Written by StillnessandSilence
Legendary biscuits made with love.
The Scent of a Man
Flowers of the frost are scared
May the Light of Creation hold fast,
The Swine Riders of Hog Holler ain’t here for show—they’re here to ride the gods-damned earth open
Gentle Cleaners of the shores
They looked heaven blessed.
THe spice must flow
Hidden deep within the Highwoods, the Dawn Wood welcomes only the worthy—its golden trees whispering secrets, its air thick with magic, and its beauty so profound it lingers in the soul long after you've left
The Black Reliquary, a palace carved from obsidian and ruled by Nelous, God of Death.
The Last Lantern was once a place of torment.
"Born of stars and sorrow, she is the Daughter of Songs—the child fated to write the world’s history in myth and melody."
"She gave them names, songs, futures—and they, in turn, made her immortal."
"Even those who call it weakness have been seen laying bulbs at midnight."
A Cordivex is not bought, but given—stitched with devotion, worn with honor, and bound by love.
"Forged in flame and shadow, the Emberkin were not born—but awakened from the molten heart of Hollowveil to carry fire in their veins and prophecy on their tongues."
Elarith, the Roottongue of Selenia, lingers in whispered idioms and wild places—where even a single spoken word might stir the ancient magic still listening in the wind
"All who travel the Solstice Chain know this: the sea remembers, even if men choose to forget."
“He taught us how to rebuild—with quiet hands, steady as the tide.”
"The daily lives of those in Scarside follow a brutal, beautiful rhythm carved by tide and season."
“We are the Reft—what’s left of the truth, stitched from grief and dreams the world forgot.”
A blind girl’s desperate prayer calls down a star — and from its fall, a man is born. In his descent, both their fates are rewritten.
In the moonlit depths of Korelune, Selara tends a living reef that breathes with the tides of Lunestra, guarding its smallest wonders with ancient grace.
The ember within the pendant flickers with Kazcadan’s pulse, a quiet reminder that even the fiercest fire can be bound—if only for a while.
Not to live longer, but to die with purpose. Let the sea decide.
“Only one in a thousand Seaglint Wyrmlings survives to shine, and of those, only the rarest reach out in their sleep to soulbind a Rider whose touch will shape their destiny.”
“He didn’t groan, didn’t turn — just stared, like he already knew, and was disappointed I hadn’t said it sooner.”
To be named Thornbound is to walk the razor’s edge between devotion and destruction.
"Though still unfinished, the Grand Sanctum of Vespera already breathes with devotion—stone by stone, heart by heart."
Guided by dreams no one else could see, Princess Eclaire defied fate, forged a pact with dragons, and reshaped the destiny of a dying world.
The stars blinked out without goodbye, and still I walked—guided only by borrowed light.
“From his body came threads of starlight—living, listening, and wrought for mercy.”
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