Summary

Portrait of Eric Rücker Eddison Eric Rücker Eddison The Worm Ouroboros — XXVIII. Zora Rach Nam Psarrion (1922)

The cold of it struck through Juss's body and smote him at the heart. He said in himself, "He is dead."
With that, the horror shut down upon Juss's soul like madness. Fearfully he stared about him. The cloud had lifted from the mountain's peak and hung like a pall above its nakedness. Chill air that was like the breath of the whole world's grave: vast blank cloud-barriers: dim far forms of snow and ice, silent, solitary, pale, like mountains of the dead: it was as if the bottom of the world were opened and truth laid bare: the ultimate Nothing.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Eric Rücker Eddison Eric Rücker Eddison The Worm Ouroboros — XXVIII. Zora Rach Nam Psarrion (1922)

In this black mood of horror he abode for awhile, until a sound of weeping and wailing made him raise his head, and he beheld a company of mourners walking one behind another about the brazen floor, all cloaked in funeral black, mourning the death of Lord Goldry Bluszco. And they rehearsed his glorious deeds and praised his beauty and prowess and goodliness and strength: soft women's voices lamenting, so that the Lord Juss's soul seemed as be listened to arise again out of annihilation's Waste, and his heart grew soft again, even unto tears.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Eric Rücker Eddison Eric Rücker Eddison The Worm Ouroboros — XXVIII. Zora Rach Nam Psarrion (1922)

Sore weariness bodily was come upon Juss, and his whole soul weary withal and near to death as he entered a snow-bedded gully that cut deep into the face of the mountain, there to await the day. He durst not sleep in that freezing night; scarcely dared he rest lest the cold should master him, but must keep for ever moving and stamping and chafing hands and feet. And yet, as the slow night crept by, death seemed a desirable thing that should end such utter weariness.
Source: Wikisource

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