The Faded Bouquet

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2026-08-20 09:55:38 -

The Faded Bouquet

The dream began not with light, but with the smell of damp wool and old iron. Elara woke in the high tower of the Chantry, her breath pluming in the frigid air. Outside, the fog of the Grey Coast swallowed the world, a thick, suffocating shroud that had not lifted in three days. She lay still for a moment, listening to the wind rattle the leaded panes, a sound like the tapping of bones against...

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