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The Wistful SkylineThe air in the basement rec center tasted of stale rubber and industrial disinfectant, a sharp, chemical bite that settled in the back of my throat and refused to leave. It was a space designed for containment, a windowless box of concrete and cinder block where the only light came from the flickering fluorescent tubes that hummed with a low, electric anxiety, casting a sickly, greenish pallor...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
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The Distant JourneyThe rain had been falling on the estate of Lord Ashworth for three days, a persistent, gray curtain that blurred the boundaries between the manicured lawns and the dark, weeping elms, and I stood in the center of the grand hall, my hands clasped behind my back, feeling the weight of the silk sash around my waist like a noose of gold and crimson, watching the servants move with the silent,...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
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The Distant NightmareThe rain did not fall so much as it hung, a gray curtain drawn tight against the high, soot-stained windows of the mill. You stood in the center of the floor, where the looms had been silent for three days. The silence was heavy. It pressed against your eardrums like deep water. You were not human. You had never been human, not truly. The mirror in the vestry hall showed a face that was almost...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
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The Golden CellarThe train slowed as it entered the valley, a metallic groan that echoed off the limestone cliffs. Mara checked her watch. It was three minutes early. She liked being early. It gave her control over the chaos of arrival. She sat by the window, watching the blur of trees and fields, feeling the vibration of the wheels in her teeth. She had spent ten years in the capital, ten years in the sterile,...0 Comments 0 Shares 8 Views 0 Reviews
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The Faded ApartmentThe sky above Millhaven did not break; it dissolved. I remember the precise moment the silence became a weight, a physical thing that pressed against my eardrums and settled into the marrow of my bones, heavier than the snow that had been falling for three days, heavier than the guilt I had carried across the ocean to this damp, gray corner of the world. The fog that rolled in from the moor was...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
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The Distant CrownThe spoon was already broken when I found it, snapped clean in two, the silver tarnished and dark with the old blood of the soup, and I held the two halves in my trembling hand while the Great Hall of the Citadel roared around me with the sound of ten thousand boots on stone and the screaming of the wind that howled through the high, narrow windows, and my father, King Aldous, stood at the head...0 Comments 0 Shares 28 Views 0 Reviews
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The Distant PromiseThe rain fell like a curse on the black stone of the Keep. It was a cold, gray morning in the year of the King’s Silence, when the wind carried the smell of wet iron and old blood. Elias stood at the window. He wore his armor. It was not steel. It was woven from the skin of the dead, stitched with silver thread. It hummed against his ribs. It knew his fear. It fed on it. He was the Warden of...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
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The Wistful MirrorThe dream begins with the smell of coal dust and ozone, a thick, metallic tang that coats the back of your throat and settles deep into the pores of your skin, and you are standing in a room that is not a room but a throat, a vast, cylindrical chamber of riveted iron and stained glass where the air hums with a low, persistent vibration that you feel in your teeth before you hear it with your...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
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The Pale ExileThe rain hits the cobblestones with a sound like static. You are bleeding from the nose. The blood is warm, a startling red against the grey wetness of the alley. You hold your left hand over your face, fingers splayed, feeling the slick heat seep through the knuckles. The mirror lies at your feet. It is broken. Not shattered into a thousand shards, but cleaved into two large, jagged halves....0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
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