The Thorne Bloom
## The Algorithmic Bloom The rain tasted like iron. Not a metallic tang, exactly, but a memory of it – the damp chill clinging to unearthed shovels in my grandfather’s garden. I licked my lips, ignoring the grimace that tightened…
delusion
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The Obsidian Bloom
## The Obsidian Bloom The air hung thick, a humid blanket clinging to Xoltan’s skin. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he stared at the glyph-etched stone, its surface slick under the flickering lamplight. Years he’d spent deciphering these intricate…