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The Pale AltarThe cup sat on the table. It was white. Porcelain. Thin as a fingernail. Elias stared at it. It was the only thing in the room that had not changed. The walls were damp. The floor was cold stone. The air smelled of wet wool and old fear. But the cup remained. He was an exile. Everyone knew it. He wore a coat that had seen better decades. His hands shook. Not from the cold. From the waiting. The...0 Comments 0 Shares 9 Views 0 Reviews
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The Wistful DinnerThe glass was falling. I caught it. Or tried to. My fingers closed around the stem. The crystal shattered. Not with a sound. With a scream. It tore through the air. It tore through me. The pieces flew. Like shrapnel. Like stars. I stood there. Bleeding. The dining room was silent. The chandelier buzzed. Dust motes danced in the light. My father sat at the head of the table. He did not look up....0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
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The Golden CrossingThe banquet hall smelled of roasted boar and wet wool. The air was thick, heavy with the breath of three hundred guests. Colonel Elias Thorne sat at the head of the long table. He wore his dress uniform. The medals on his chest caught the candlelight. They did not shine. They looked like dead insects. Across the table sat General Halloway. Halloway spoke. His voice was low. It scraped against...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
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The Faded FrequencyThe ink on the page had dried to the consistency of dried blood, a deep, arterial maroon that seeped into the fibers of the parchment with a permanence that seemed to defy the very nature of the medium, and as I, Elias Thorne, sat in the dim, dust-moted silence of my study, the air thick with the scent of old paper and the faint, metallic tang of my own exhaustion, I realized that the house...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
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The Golden HarborThe hall of the Black Spire was not built for comfort, but for the containment of silence. It was a cavern of stone, vaulted high into the gloom, where the air hung heavy with the scent of tallow and old iron. Around the long table, the lords of the Keep sat in a circle of candlelight, their faces illuminated from below, casting long, skeletal shadows against the rough-hewn walls. I sat at the...0 Comments 0 Shares 7 Views 0 Reviews
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The Faded FrontierThe air tastes of copper and ozone. "Did you see the moss," you whisper, your voice cracking in the dry heat. "It’s turning grey." "Grey is safe," the Lieutenant replies. He does not look at you. He looks at the horizon, a jagged line where the sky bleeds into the static. "Grey is nothing. Nothing is what we need." You adjust the strap of your rifle. The leather is cracked, flaking onto your...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
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The Faded AlibiIt began not with a sound, but with the weight of a wool shawl that had been woven from the hair of a thousand ghosts, a garment that smelled of damp earth and forgotten lullabies, which had fallen from the night sky like a single, heavy tear and landed with a soft, suffocating thud directly in the lap of Thomas Bradshaw as he sat in his small, rented room above the chandler’s shop in the...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
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The Golden SuspectThe border patrol van died on the ridge with a sound like a bone snapping, its engine coughing black smoke into the pale, winter air that bit through wool and leather. It was the end of the world, or at least the end of the known map, where the gravel road dissolved into the scrubby, wind-scoured tundra of the northern highlands. Elias Vane sat in the driver’s seat, his hands still resting on...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
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The Distant AffairThe hall smelled of roasted goose and iron. It was a smell that sat heavy on the tongue, thick as syrup, masking the copper scent of blood beneath. Colonel Elias Thorne stood at the edge of the table, his uniform immaculate, the brass buttons catching the flickering light of the chandeliers. He did not drink. He watched the cups fill and empty, the faces flush and bright, the laughter sharp and...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
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