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The Consortium of Dreams is where the stories of my characters and my short tales come to life
Every brushstroke felt like a small rebellion against the exhaustion that weighed her body down, a quiet proof that she was still here, still creating.
She had offered him her life, yet the Guardian’s refusal left her stranded between death and survival, a sacrifice without a purpose.
A hymn stitched in ink, bone, and desire, tracing a soul’s torment between Fate’s hand, Death’s embrace, and the Muse’s hunger.