Arcadia could not have stifled the laughter that leapt from her throat even if she had wanted to, not that anyone was there to hear it. If there had been, if some genis had wandered out into the winding paths that cut through dense forest that surrounds Vehja, she was moving much too fast to […]
The thing that Lyra loved most about this place was the complicated, ever-changing bouquet of aromas. Each stall, cart, and pagoda held something vastly different than the last. From vibrant and exotic dyes, dried fruits ranging from shriveled and sour to decadently sweet, and spices from every corner of the planet, to ancient and mysterious
The Creaky Mill is both aptly and purposefully named. Its owners, a humble grain farmer and his brother, are profoundly proud of the double meaning, though when asked about it they insist they stumbled upon the name accidentally. It sits upon a small tributary of the Border river which flows with just enough volume to
Solitude and Bread Read More »
There was a place, in between the voidal eternity of the Schismic Plane and the comforting warmth of the Celestial Fields, a place between crushing madness and never-ending peace, a place right in the center of all existence where the influences of chaos and order collided to create The Grey. For millennia, that place was static, motionless and quiet. The
Between Chaos and Order Read More »
It is not the salt, nor the waves that calm her heartache. It is not the creaking of the boards beneath her feet or the warmth of the sun behind her closed eyes. It’s not even the spray across her sun-browned face as she stands at the bow of her ship as it comes to
A Sea of Potential Read More »
