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The Faded BouquetThe rain fell like ash. It soaked the wool of my cloak, heavy and cold, as I trampled through the mud of the Holloway estate. The torch in my hand sputtered, throwing jagged shadows against the black stone walls. I was not here for the dead. I was here for the living. Or what passed for it. "Stop," I whispered. My voice was a rasp, dry as old bone. "Stop running." There was no one there. Only...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
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The Distant PromiseThe rain did not fall so much as it hung, a suspended grey curtain that blurred the horizon where the wetlands of the Mississippi Delta met the bruised twilight sky, and within that suspended air, Elias Thorne walked with the heavy, rhythmic gait of a man who had forgotten how to stop, his boots sinking into the mud with a sound like the wet tearing of old bandages, each step a deliberate act...0 Comments 0 Shares 44 Views 0 Reviews
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The Distant LegendThe banquet hall smelled of roasted boar and wet stone. Candles dripped hot wax onto the floor, pooling in dark, sticky islands. Elias stood by the hearth. He watched the flames. They were hungry. They ate the wood with a sound like tearing paper. He was a scholar. He had spent twenty years in this castle. He had cataloged the histories of kings who were dust. He had read the laws that bound...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
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The Pale TaleMargaret stood at the sink, the water running cold over her knuckles. The tap dripped. A steady, rhythmic tick that marked the seconds of her failure. In the bowl before her lay a mound of grey paste. It was supposed to be bread. It was supposed to be the foundation of their evening, the soft, yielding thing that held the sandwich together. Instead, it was a brick. Dense. Lifeless. Like...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
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The Distant JourneyThe candle had burned down to a nub of wax, its light trembling against the damp walls of the attic room. I sat on the floor, my back against the cold stone, and watched the shadows lengthen. Outside, the city of Aveline slept beneath a blanket of fog, a sprawling beast of brick and mortar that had swallowed my youth and was now digesting my life. I had come here to find him, or rather, to find...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
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The Golden FarceThe university tower had stood on the edge of the cliff for three hundred years, a stone needle pinning the earth to the sky, and I had spent the last decade of my life climbing its stairs with the quiet, relentless hunger of a man seeking a specific shade of gray in a library that refused to keep its secrets. We were a community of scholars, a collective body bound not by blood but by the...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
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The Distant MachineThe ink on the parchment was still wet, glistening in the grey, slanting light of the carriage window, as if the words themselves were bleeding from the pen he had held so tightly that his knuckles had turned the color of old bone. Sir Julian Ashworth sat in the corner of the mail coach, a leather-bound journal resting on his knee, the cover cracked and worn by years of service and silence....0 Comments 0 Shares 32 Views 0 Reviews
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The Distant GardenThe rain had not stopped for three days, and it seemed to settle into the very bones of the town of Oakhaven, a place that smelled permanently of wet coal, rusted iron, and the sharp, metallic tang of the new textile mills that lined the riverbank. It was in this damp, grey twilight that Elara Vance prepared to leave. She stood in the center of her small, cluttered sitting room, her fingers...0 Comments 0 Shares 3 Views 0 Reviews
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The Pale MistThe morning air in the Hall of Whispers tasted of ozone and old iron, a metallic tang that coated the back of my throat and settled into the bones of my teeth. I stood at the edge of the precipice, where the stone floor gave way to a chasm of swirling, pale mist that did not rise like smoke but hung suspended, thick and heavy as liquid wool. Below, the mist churned with a slow, hypnotic rhythm,...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
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