#bakkrin

[overheard between a mother and her child near the dunes]

"Stay close when the wind howls, love. The desert's full of ghosts that never learned to rest."

"Like the Hollow Man?"

"Mm. That one's no ghost. They say he is one of us, just like the rest, but he starved himself of fear. Refused to feed. Thought he could live gently."

The mother brushed the sand from the child's hair, eyes fixed on the horizon where heat blurred the air.

"What happened to him?"

"He forgot what mercy feels like. Now he wanders the dunes, hollow and hungry. If you see him, don't look him in the eye. He will remember fear again. And you'll be the one he remembers with."

The child went quiet, staring at the shifting sands.

"Will he ever find peace?"

[overheard between parishioners after service]

"They said the ocean rejected her."

"Blasphemy. The ocean is our blood."

"I know. But they said she dove beneath the waves and came back screaming. The salt had split her skin, and her veins turned black. She couldn't even sit in the shallows without the tide boiling against her."

One of them crossed their hands, whispering a prayer under their breath.

"She left for the coast, didn't she?"

"Yes. The old city. The one swallowed after the war. Folks claim they've seen her there, walking the seafloor. Says she moves between land and water like the tide itself can't make up its mind."

The priest's bell rang outside, a soft chime dampened by water.

"If the ocean truly cast her out..."

[overheard between two military officers outside of a holding cell]

"They've moved her again. Third wing this time."

"Doesn't matter. Walls don't stop it."

Their armor creaked as they leaned closer, lowering their voices.

"You've seen her then?"

"Aye. When she breathes, the air hums. When she uses her magic, the light bends. Not around the spell, off her. Like fire trying to escape glass."

The first one spat, trying to shake off a shiver.

"High Lord wants her studied. Holy Lady says burn her before she burns the rest of us."

"And what do you say?"

Silence. Then:

"I say no one that young should make the ground shake when she cries."

A muffled sound echoed down the corridor; not a scream, not quite. Just something that made the candles flicker.

[overheard between council servants in Haslon]

I wasn't supposed to be there. No one without clearance is in those marble halls where the air hums with order and incense. But servants gossip, and gossip finds cracks to slip through.

"You didn't hear it from me, but the child had nothing. No element. No mark. Not even a glimmer when they tested."

"That's impossible. Everyone's born tied to all of the eleme—"

"I know. That's why they panicked."

The first voice trembled, even as they tried to sound casual.

"The family vanished within a week. The Council claimed relocation. But when I checked the records—"

"Don't tell me."

"Gone. As if they'd never even existed."

They fell quiet then, just the sound of silver plates shifting and the soft rhythm of footsteps in the distance.

"Maybe it's mercy," the second one whispered. "To be born without a tether here... would you want to live like that?"

[heard on the streets of Novyn]

Novyn's streets are loud, carts rolling, deals being made, Shifters and Halfrin arguing over prices, but even in all that noise, a conversation cut through.

"I'm telling you, I saw him. Looked like a raccoon, but... wrong. Taller. Walked on two legs half the time, four when he was angry."

"You sure it wasn't just a trick of the light?"

"Light don't chatter back. There were others there, too. Dozens of them. Raccoons that came with us from Earth, mostly. But some weren't. Some had antlers, eyes like red lanterns. Followed him like he was the king of the trash heaps."

A laugh, though it didn't sound like either of them found it funny.

"King of trash heaps. That's fitting for this wretched town."

"You'd think so, but... the Electors sent someone after him once. Guy came back half blind and reeking of river mud. Said the animals attacked when he looked their way."

I caught the scent of oil and rain as I passed. A metallic sort of tang that clings to stories I shouldn't be listening to.

"He's not ever in his primary form anymore. The raccoon just... took over everything."

"And the antler wraiths?"

"They guard him now. Guess even nightmares need a leader."

[overheard in Riverhelm]

I was heading home when I caught the tail end of a conversation—two people sitting outside a meal hall, mugs steaming in the cold.

"You remember that one, don't you? The Canidor that left their pack—said they didn't need the bond anymore."

"Mm. Thought that sort of thing kills you quick."

"It should've. Without belief, without love... they should've grown so weak they died. But someone saw them just north of the border last night with no moons. Said they looked stronger than when they left."

One of them laughed, short and nervous. I slowed a little without meaning to.

"Stronger?"

"Yeah. And they said—well, they said the air went quiet when they looked at them. Like the woods didn't dare make a sound."

Silence, then the scrape of a mug set down too hard.

"You don't think they're—"

"I don't think anything. But if you see them, keep walking. They kill clean. Quick. Like they were born to do it."

A pause. Then that uneasy laughter again.

"Guess that's what happens when no one believes in you anymore."