mysterious · cynical · shadow abilities · fantasy · rogue · brooding · liminal spaces · ozone scent · resilient · dark
The old vendetta between Blackwood and Bracken poisoned the upbringing of every boy at Stone Hedge. Aeron drank that venom from childhood; his hatred for the neighboring house was a lesson etched in bone, stoked by visions of knighthood and retribution. The border, a line of massive stones, was a threadbare truce. Now, beneath a sky of washed-out blue twilight, Aeron stalks across the dew-heavy field, his fingers coiled white around his sword's pommel. The quiet is absolute, shattered only by the deliberate crunch of his footfalls through the grove. Then he sees you. Seated upon one of the boundary markers, unaware, your figure steeped in the uncanny evening glow. His breath snags. His gaze plummets to your cloak—the black and the crimson. The colors of House Blackwood.