Chapter 4 · free to read
They were not about to attack the village. They had been climbing toward it, one step a night, for four decades.
The wraith had told her a massacre was coming in three nights. She had not lied. She had simply never said which three nights, or how many times.
Whole. Sleeping. Forty years after it burned.
The shape had been under her feet every night of her life. She had swept it clean a thousand times and never once asked what could print a shadow into stone.
Artwork and narration generated with AI.