The Bloomlands
## Echo Bloom The wind tasted of rust and regret. Elara knelt, fingers tracing the skeletal branches of a petrified oak. Its leaves hadn’t fallen. They *became* stone, smooth and grey against her palm. Ten days. That’s how long it…
resonators
Read MoreThe Bloomlands
The Bloom
## The Bloom The air tasted of iron and wet stone. Rain, not gentle drizzle but a solid sheet, hammered against the corrugated roof of Elias’s workshop. He ignored it, focused on the moss growing in intricate patterns across the…
The Tide-Bound
## 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…