Began here.
Landing page here.
In a castle that shouldn’t be, in a place that wasn’t, a girl named after too many things ran her hands over the carvings in the sandstone and tried to read them.
She could tell they meant something, but what they meant – that was beyond her. Wait.
“Wait.”
She ran her fingers over it again. “It’s – Oh, I can almost read it,” she murmured. “I can almost feel the weave in it. The – oh.” She pulled her fingers away. “It’s like reading a language that is close to one you know, but is just different enough to be obnoxious.” Continue reading
