The Prism of Nightmares (V-11)

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2026-05-31 19:32:17 -

The manor of Blackwood does not sit upon the earth; it huddles against it, a sprawling, skeletal ruin of obsidian stone and weeping ivy. Here, the rain does not fall; it descends as a grey, suffocating curtain that tastes of salt and old copper. I am Alistair Thorne, and I am the prisoner of my own reflection. I do not remember the ice, though the chill still lingers in the marrow of my bones....

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