And the Echoes all Around

And the Echoes All Around

Author’s Note: To be read with this playing on repeat:

Brassica didn’t know what she’d expected the Fields of Fornost to be. The dream she’d had of the great battle was fading, bare scraps of memory clinging around the edges of her mind, like a tapestry torn away. Not that it would have been a good reference anyway, what she did remember of it seemed plainly absurd to her waking-mind, in the way that dreams do.

Her expectations entirely aside, the only word for the place was creepy. Brassica had shivered when they’d approached the Evendim Gate; when they’d passed beneath it, she’d felt as though someone had walked over her grave.


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