Zirael cradled the hot cup of kinquinte as she trotted up the snow-dusted steps towards the palace gardens. It was the tenth day this week

Hetdra. Again. "By the Saints, you've weighted this toss, haven't ya?" Arrin snarkily grumbled to the three guardsmen as

Sixth Comet. 984 years ago. The Warlock wore all black, fitting, considering this was a funeral of sorts. He stood atop the highest peak in