The maces, bound with tarnished silver, swung in practiced arcs. Each impact on the training dummies echoed the weight of generations. Old grievances. The Elkhire. They hadn’t stood shoulder-to-shoulder in centuries, not since the Split. Now, a shadow army massed…
The chipped ceramic of the mug warmed Hauden’s palms, a pale contrast to the fiery sunset bleeding across the skyline. Every window in the tower district blazed with reflected gold—the Sun-Kissed, they called themselves, their skin practically luminous, personalities to…
The fever rattled Janek’s bones. Not the heat, though that clung like wet wool, but the *seeing*. It began with soot. The way it swirled from the flues, settling not as darkness, but as… shapes. Patterns. Like the butcher’s tally…
The chipped rune pulsed beneath Elara’s palm, a throb against the cold stone of the watchtower. Dust motes danced in the lone shaft of sunlight slicing through the gloom. It hadn’t sparked in centuries, not since the last Runeweaver… vanished.…
The chipped Formica of the diner booth felt gritty under Leo’s elbows. He stabbed a french fry with enough force it nearly bounced off the plate. Across from him, Maya traced the rim of her water glass, her knuckles white.…
The chill bit, even through Gwen’s gloves. Frost orchids. Not the pale, brittle kind you found clinging to dying branches, but shimmering, almost *alive* with an inner light. Each petal pulsed with a lavender glow, mirroring the bruised twilight sky.…
Rain lashed the ferroconcrete, slicking the corridors of the Exchange to a sheen. The air tasted of ozone and desperation. Jax traced a finger across the chipped Formica of the broker’s desk, ignoring the static cling. The man, Krell, didn’t…
The chipped Formica of the counter felt cool under Kenji’s palms. Dust motes danced in the single bare bulb hanging above. Outside, Tokyo exhaled a gritty sigh, a city still coughing up ash, even a year after the firestorms. He…
The dust tasted like old pennies. Old pennies and regret. Kaelen traced a fingertip across the basalt face of a crumbling sentinel. It wasn’t stone, not exactly. More like…compressed night. The air hummed, a low thrum against his teeth. He’d…
The scent of cut grass and diesel hung thick in the late afternoon air. Astralen guided the mower along the edge of Lord Elmsworth’s prize-winning clover, the engine a steady drone against the rising wind. Not exactly the life he…
The rain slicked alloy of the undercity clung to Anya’s boots. Voidberries, bruised purple, rolled underfoot as tech hustlers huddled in the decaying nanogrime sprawl, their voices murmurs lost in the static hiss of failing power conduits. She needed a…
The chipped gargoyle warmed beneath Zeush’s feet, the stone radiating the day’s faint heat. Below, the city of Veridium pulsed—a network of shadowed alleys and glittering towers, all choking on ambition. He adjusted his grip, talons scoring the weathered stone.…
The fog tasted of coal and secrets. August clung to Violet’s threadbare shawl, the damp chilling him to the bone despite the summer month. Parliament House loomed, a gray beast breathing the city’s grime. Violet, barely ten, slipped between the…
The salt spray tasted of regret. Old Man Tiber, they called the lighthouse, though no one remembered a man ever tending it. Just the mechanism, grinding gears and a lens the size of a carriage wheel. It sat on Widow’s…
The peaks clawed at a bruised sky, broken teeth against the fading light. Dust devils danced across the shale, ghosts of arguments long settled. Old Man Tiber, they called me, though I hadn’t earned the name through age. It was…