here in this moment

Thank you, @maxkennedy24, for this incredible portrait of Anders, Karl Thekla, and Cecily Hawke, from Aisles of Memory and Regret!

So this arc of the tale reaches its strange conclusion. Another perspective begins soon. Thank you for reading!

@tranquilweek

A snippet of Ch 15:

Hello, hello, @tranquilweek ! More chapters added to Karl Thekla’s tale: Aisles of Memory and Regret! A little snippet from one of the newest posted chapters:

“Do you…” Anders searched his face, worried. “Do you feel the… fog… coming back?”

Karl shook his head. “But I know that I will. We don’t know if this-” he tapped the amulet, “-will work again, or how, or when.”

“If it doesn’t, we’ll try whatever Merrill was working on. Or we’ll come up with something else.” Anders wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “I will bring you back. I will always bring you back.”

“I know you’ll try.” Karl studied the ashes, black powder and flecks, beneath the charred ribs.

Anders frowned. “You’re sure you don’t feel anything…”

New chapters of Aisles of Memory and Regret are up! Here's a taste:

Fire coursed beneath his skin. He could feel it like a hand gripping his heart too hard, flaying his lungs, and boiling his eyes until he was blind.  Karl dropped to his knees, covering them to keep them from exploding free of his skull as his head pounded and his bones screamed.  “A few adjustments…” Enchanter Malcolm was speaking, but the words held no meaning. For a moment, Karl felt a reprieve - a pleasant mist of contentment and fog, but then- He screamed, gasping, curled on the paving stones in the dark. It smelled of salt and sweat and blood. He could taste copper on his tongue. Feel it pulsing like a kicking frog inside of his mouth. His knuckles and palms were scratched. Searing. “Stop- please stop!” he tried to beg, “Please!” But all that emerged was a wordless, agonized scream that tore at his throat.  Until there were hands. He knew those hands. Anders. He knew the feel of them - callused and strong and smelling of linseed oil. But they were grasping his shoulders, holding him - no- “-trying to keep him steady-” “Anders,” Karl rasped, clinging to him even though the lights burned his eyes and his blood was melting him from the inside. “Anders!” Help me- help me- But the words failed him.