**Chapter 2: The Deterioration**

Days passed like hours in the cold, damp brig cell on the French dignitary's ship. Hans' world had shrunk to the narrow confines of his cell, and his mind was rapidly unraveling. The once-sharp edges of his thoughts were now frayed and tangled, like the end of a rope pulled apart by some ferocious beast. As the ship sailed across the vast expanse of water, Hans' behavior grew increasingly erratic. He would pace back and forth in his cell, his footsteps echoing off the cold stone walls like the ticking of a clock counting down to his own destruction. His eyes, once bright and calculating, had taken on a wild, almost feral quality, as if he were a trapped animal desperate to escape. The crew of the ship tried to keep him calm, but Hans' condition only worsened. He would lash out at the sailors, his eyes flashing with anger, and then collapse into despair, sobbing uncontrollably like a child who had lost his way in the dark. The captain, a gruff but fair man, had tried to intervene, but even he was at a loss for how to help Hans. As the days turned into a blur of chaos and confusion, Hans' physical appearance began to deteriorate as well. His hair was matted and dirty, his skin pale and clammy, and his eyes sunken with fatigue. He would often forget to eat, or refuse to take food when it was offered to him, and his body was beginning to waste away like a plant that had been left unwatered for too long. The captain and his crew did their best to care for Hans, but it soon became clear that he needed more help than they could provide. They tried to reason with him, to calm him down and bring him back from the brink of madness, but Hans was beyond their reach. He was a shipwreck, lost at sea, and they were powerless to save him. As the ship approached the shores of the Southern Isles, the captain knew that he had to act quickly. He sent a message to King Westergaard, Hans' father, informing him of his son's condition and asking for his help. But deep down, he knew that it might already be too late. Hans was beyond salvation, lost in a sea of his own making, and it was unclear if anyone could bring him back. The darkness closed in around Hans like a shroud, and he was consumed by his own demons. He was a man torn apart by his own ambition and desire for power, and it seemed that there was no escape from the destruction that had been wrought. The ship sailed on, carrying Hans towards a destiny that would change him forever, and the crew could only watch in horror as he slipped further and further into the abyss. The sound of the waves crashing against the hull of the ship was like a constant drumbeat, a reminder of the turmoil that was brewing inside Hans. The captain and his crew were powerless to stop it, and all they could do was stand by and watch as Hans descended into the depths of madness. The Southern Isles loomed ahead, a land of rugged beauty and harsh realities, and Hans was about to discover that his own personal hell was waiting for him there.