Mythical, Epic Tales from Magical worlds
## The Cartographer’s Shadow The dust tasted of old parchment and regret. Elara spat, wiping a smear across the worn leather of her glove. The shard pulsed beneath her fingertips—a frantic heartbeat in the cavernous Archive. It depicted a harvest…
## The Tide-Bound The salt stung Elara’s lips as she hauled another net, her muscles burning with a familiar ache. Turquoise waves slapped against the hull of *The Wanderer*, their rhythm steady, constant – a deceptive calm. She squinted at…
## The Echo Weaver The steam rose, thick and sweet, tasting of minerals and ancient stone. Elara brushed it away from her face, focusing on the low thrum vibrating through the cavern floor. It wasn’t a steady pulse; it shifted,…
## The Reefspeaker Rain lashed against the corrugated iron roof of Elsie’s shack, a relentless drumming that mirrored the rhythm thrumming in her skull. Salt spray kissed her weathered face as she hunched over a tangle of wires and bioluminescent…
## The Echo Bloom Rain lashed against the ferroconcrete of Sector 7, each drop a tiny hammer blow. Elara huddled deeper into her threadbare coat, the damp chill seeping through despite layers of worn synthetics. She watched a Nomari courier…
## The Bloom Weaver The chipped porcelain of the mug warmed Elias’s hands, but didn’t touch the chill clinging to his bones. Rain lashed against the window of the Archive, mimicking the rhythmic throb behind his eyes. He hadn’t slept…
## The Static Bloom The chipped ceramic mug warmed Elias’s hands, the bitter chicory scent barely cutting through the damp cellar smell. Rain lashed against the single high window, each gust a percussion note against the stone. He traced the…
## The Clockwork Heart The scent of roasting chestnuts and damp wool clung to the November air in Augsburg. Rain slicked the cobblestones, reflecting the flickering torchlight that illuminated the festival grounds. Old Man Tiber, his face a roadmap of…
## The Clockwork Heart The scent of roasting chestnuts and damp wool clung to the November air in Augsburg. Rain slicked the cobblestones, reflecting the flickering torchlight that illuminated the festival grounds. Old Man Tiber, his face a roadmap of…
## The Clockwork Heart The scent of roasting chestnuts and damp wool clung to the November air in Augsburg. Rain slicked the cobblestones, reflecting the flickering torchlight that illuminated the festival grounds. Old Man Tiber, his face a roadmap of…
## The Clockwork Conspiracy The scent of brass polish and oiled gears hung thick in the workshop, a perfume Claes Sonnenrens breathed deeper than air. Sunlight fractured through the leaded glass of the high windows, illuminating dust motes dancing above…
## The Clockwork Conspiracy The scent of brass polish and oiled gears hung thick in the workshop, a perfume Claes Sonnenrens breathed deeper than air. Sunlight fractured through the leaded glass of the high windows, illuminating dust motes dancing above…
## The Clockwork Conspiracy The scent of brass polish and oiled gears hung thick in the workshop, a perfume Claes Sonnenrens breathed deeper than air. Sunlight fractured through the leaded glass of the high windows, illuminating dust motes dancing above…
## The Cartographer’s Echo Dust motes danced in the violet shafts slicing through Old Man Tiber’s workshop. The light, fractured seven ways over Aestinwy’s sun prisms, tasted like ozone and regret. I ran a thumb across the vellum stretched taut…
## Salt & Static The cranes arrived with the tide. Not fluttering down like a gentle snowfall, but *deposited*. Fifteen of them, perfectly formed from paper the color of bruised plums, arranged on the chipped picnic tables at Port Blossom’s…