## The Cartographer’s Bloom The rain felt like cold needles against Elara’s skin, plastering a strand of dark hair to her cheek. She squinted at the sprawling Greenhaven Cemetery, rows upon rows of granite and marble gleaming wetly under a…
## The Echo Weaver Rain hammered the corrugated metal roof of Elias Thorne’s workshop, a relentless percussion against the silence that usually reigned. The scent of dust, aged paper, and ozone clung to everything – a familiar comfort. He squinted…
The rain tasted like salt and regret. I watched it sheet down the corrugated iron roof of the Fisherman’s Rest, a pub clinging to the edge of Valoria, a village that seemed determined to dissolve back into the bruised grey…
The rain tasted like salt and regret. I watched it sheet down the corrugated iron roof of the Fisherman’s Rest, a pub clinging to the edge of Valoria, a village that seemed determined to dissolve back into the bruised grey…