The flare of the midday sun scatters on the surface tension as wavering color-bands. A huff of air escapes Oril’s snout, rippling on the pond.

With stagnant breath burning all but literal fire in her chest, she bursts into the sun in a gasping heave for breath. 

The sun is cast nice and warm on her young dragon back in the heart of the Soilver Forest. Here everything is silent, only the trees   sigh in the gust.

Preview: Birth of Narji

The man before her has lost all color. His skin moist and saggy. His breath is no more than stagnant gasps for air. His life essence is slowly draining into the ground, and there is nothing to be done about it. They lay in rows upon rows in the Upnox hospital. Pale moonlight reflects on their bare upper bodies through the partly collapsed roof.   

There is no shortage of food nor medical supplies, the Mainland supplies them plenty, but they won’t set foot near them. Narji wipes the cold sweat from her forehead by a quivering hand. Why are they immune to the grasp of the fracture?

Preview: Herox Prison

“Welcome demon, to Herox prison.” The non-humans tower over her. The fierce leader of these insignis, their elite, has his hands planted deep into his pockets.

Weeping, Nitarva hides her fragile face in the folds of the straitjacket, which they made her wear. Blood cakes the left side of her face from where they stuck her.

Preview: six paths of the raven flame

Click here to add text.

If one were to reject kindness and care in their heart, they may follow faithfully the Raven flame through the nothingness.

Six blind paths; six masters. Black scales; all ‘hers’.

Onyxi, enveloped in corruption. The conscious of the raven flame, too large to go unnoticed; to massive to comprehend. It has spread like wildfire in the essence of her being, yet she remained sane, calm. Limbo and beyond flickers behind her emotionless eyes. One gander and you are bound to her whim. May be that she is the youngest, but a child; fear her for she is the furthest removed from sympathy.

Humanity in the nonhuman

Through the mountain pass of Ignis, above the valley below. On the perfect canvas of night, littered by stars, a single cloud rests solely as a spot of grey. It blisters with lightning so far in the distance that no thunder reaches Jhin.

He draws fresh air through a filter of sod and nicotine, letting it burn down into his chest. He flicks the orange bud down the sheer mountainside. Heart aching, he returns to the truck he ‘borrowed’ on his way here.