It will begin with the six who now tread the streets of a city where the stone pinnacle erects like a reed amongst long grass. Where a bridge expands across a gorge, drifts a cloud...

Sleep is a little death, dreams the whisperings of the Other, who would drag us all into his eternal night.

For every blissful moment you must an anguish meet.

Right and wrong matters little when survival matters most.

It made the woman feel like a thousand seas had come together from all worlds, like faraway lands had been bridged together, and the vastness of the known and the unknown were somehow easier to...

It is not Love that is the crime and it is not Love that is the sin. It is the absence of it!”ARcher Tariq – “A Rising Darkness

You are blessed with a knack for sucking the wonder out of the extraordinary.