Stories
The ember‑lit guild hall thrummed with life, its vaulted ceiling a lattice of iron ribs that caught the glow of countless looms. Each loom stood like a patient beast, its wooden frame blackened by years of heat, its spindle wheels turning in a steady, hypnotic rhythm. The air was thick with the scent of hot coal and freshly spun wool, a warm perfume that clung to skin and lingered in the breath of every apprentice who passed through the great doors.
The first time Kade stepped into the Moon-Root Market, the clearing felt like a held breath.
Bioluminescent vines wound up the trunks of ancient yew trees and braided themselves into stalls that glowed as if embers slept inside their stems. Moonlight spilled through the canopy in a silver hush, soft as dust resting on an old book. Every sound was muted—footsteps thudded like distant heartbeats, and even the wind seemed to darken its voice. The place smelled of wet moss and crushed mint, with an undertone of something warm and unsettlingly sweet, like the moment before a remembered kiss.
The world below had long since become a memory—a patchwork of rusted rails, cracked highways, and cities that whispered their own demise into the wind. Above it all, suspended on currents of ionized vapor and ancient magnetic fields, drifted a place few had ever seen and fewer still believed could exist: the City of Aetheria.