in a tower of metal tongues traders sell fireflies bottled in bones
winter dawn the sparrow is a reminder that freedom comes with a catch: wings
perhaps the memory is stored in a different dimension and regurgitated by the human brain when required indicating an efficient and strange bio mechanism that triggers subconsciously
chaos does not archive it devours as pages crumble from a dark touch
the honey has soured the wildlings barely exist and the trees speak in anger grinding rust between bark and root
winterdeep’s cold spared none even mages burnt their spellbooks to keep their minds warm
hum of voices from behind the wooden door open it once and be greeted by a vortex of black wings open it twice and behold a sight of sleeping swords tell me when you’ve had the chance to open it thrice
motes of lunar dust shiver in the winter winds singing their way back to the fire
how does one burn an ocean the elder wyrm’s question was often met with death if answered silence or ignorance was preferred
when silence came she did not weep instead she bore herself a wild sellsword from the fiery space between her bosoms and set it upon the quiet void
elancharan gunasekaran 