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The Wistful CrossroadsThe hall was thick with the scent of roasted lamb and burning beeswax, a heavy, cloying sweetness that seemed to press against the inside of my skull, muffling the world beyond the stone walls of the estate. I sat at the far end of the long oak table, my hands folded neatly in my lap, though my knuckles were white, gripping the fabric of my simple linen tunic as if it were the only anchor...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
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The Faded ShieldThe rain had not stopped for three days, a ceaseless, grey weeping that turned the cobblestones of Oakhaven into slick, black mirrors reflecting the hollow eyes of the houses. In the attic room, where the air tasted of damp wool and old secrets, Elara sat on the edge of her narrow bed, her fingers trembling as they brushed the rim of a clay pot. The pot was cracked, a jagged line running from...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
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The Golden CrossingThe bone breaks. Not with a sound. Not with a flash. Just a snap. Clean. Cold. Like ice on a pond in November. You are standing in the kitchen. The linoleum is yellowed. The light is gray. Your mother is on the phone. She is not looking at you. She is looking at the wall. Her hand is up. Her finger is pressed against her ear. The bone in your hand is broken. You hold it still. You hold it...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
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The Wistful MirrorThe rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a thick, grey curtain that blurred the boundary between the muddy road and the ancient stone walls of the castle. Elias Thorne walked with a heavy step, his boots caked in the wet earth of a land that had not welcomed him for twenty years. He was an exile, a man who had crossed the sea to seek justice and found only a kingdom turned against...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
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The Distant MachineThe letter is stained with ash. You hold it in your left hand. Your right hand grips the hilt of your short sword. The metal is cold. It bites into your palm. You do not let go. You are walking through the snow. The snow is deep. It swallows your boots. It is quiet. The silence is heavy. It presses against your eardrums. You are a captain. You serve the King. You have marched for three days....0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
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The Distant GhostThe brass was cold. I rubbed it with a thumb that had forgotten how to stop trembling. It was a small thing. A key. Not for a door, but for a mechanism. A clock. Or perhaps a lock on a memory that had rusted shut too long ago. I sat in the back of the train, the window smeared with the grime of the industrial coast. Outside, the sky was the color of wet slate. The air smelled of coal dust and...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
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The Golden MazeThe chandelier in the Great Hall of Whitmore House was a constellation of crystal and glass, suspended from the high vaulted ceiling by chains that had not been polished since the last war. It cast a fractured, cold light over the banquet table, a long expanse of white linen where the silverware gleamed like the polished barrels of rifles. Colonel Elias Thorne sat at the head of the table, his...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
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The Distant Legend"The bread is burnt again, Margaret, and I cannot eat it, I simply cannot look at the way it has collapsed in upon itself like a dying lung, so please, for the love of God, throw it away before the smell of carbon and regret permeates the very walls of this house that I am slowly losing control of." Margaret stood by the cold hearth, her hands trembling not from the chill of the late November...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
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The Wistful ThroneThe chalice did not break when the iron mace struck it; it shattered in my mind, a sudden and violent eruption of gold and blood that splattered across the grey stone floor of the hall before the physical vessel had even finished its descent, the sound of the impact registering in my ears only as a distant, dull thud that was immediately drowned out by the roar of my own breathing and the...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
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