More LaterSomewhere in the Highland Marches
A butterfly, green and orange in the morning sun, stretches its wings...
San Juan, Castille
A man steps out of a curio shop, his attention set upon the small item in his hands. The clatter of hooves against cobblestone echo through the narrow street. The horse, its rider buried in a thick brown cloak, barrels past and sends both man and item to the ground. The stones turn red.
The lamplight flickers, barely illuminating the study as its sole occupant studies a letter with wet eyes. The paper falls from his trembling left hand as his right reaches across the desk for a glass of dark wine. A shot rings out, shattering the window. The sound of breaking glass. A puddle of spilled liquor on a bearskin rug. A servant screams.
Marcino, Midnight Archipelago
A young boy casts his line into the shallows outside the city. His pole snags and he struggles, determined to bring home food for his sister. The waters churn and the boy drops the pole, horrified by the sudden appearance of a body wrapped in chains.
Northern Manutua, Vodacce
A man scrambles across the empty countryside, wet grass crushed beneath heavy boots. His breath comes in ragged gasps, panic etched across his aged face. A cloaked figure comes into view, cutting off the man's escape, and a crossbow rises between them. A hollow second hangs heavy in the air.