## The Inheritance Line Rain lashed against the leaded glass of Blackwood Manor, a relentless drumming that echoed through the cavernous entrance hall. Amelia traced the dampness on the pane, her breath fogging the aged glass. The scent of wet…
## The Cartographer’s Bloom The desert wind tasted of grit and sun-baked stone, a familiar sting against my lips. I squinted at the shimmering horizon, dust devils dancing like restless spirits across the ochre expanse. This wasn’t just any desert;…
## The Static Bloom The salt spray tasted like iron, clung to Maya’s eyelashes. Three sunrises bled into one another on the horizon – a bruised violet, an angry ochre, and the dull ruby of K’tharr. She hadn’t slept properly…
The rain hammered against the corrugated iron roof of the Helix, a sound like a thousand frantic fingers drumming. Below, the city – or what was left of it – bled into an oppressive grey. Layers upon layers of concrete…
The rain smelled of salt and something else—rotting kelp, maybe, clinging to the stone walls. Twilight bled across Haven’s harbor, a bruised purple and grey where the jagged cliffs met the restless sea. It wasn’t a pretty harbor, not anymore.…