The Box

“Explain yourself,” Arliden says, looking down from his jewel-bestowed throne onto the poor beggar standing underneath. He has ragged clothes and sweat-streaked hair, making the contrast with the object he holds all the more apparent. The beggar fidgets with a small and colorful cubic box, intricate patterns woven across each side. “Th-this is something for … Continue reading The Box


Lonely souls traverse the ruined city. Lost in the shadow of who they used to be. So many souls, yet such desolation. For they must first find themselves if they are to find others. Former craftsmen, former kings, all walk the same road without prejudice. Need perhaps catastrophe be for men to see?