Gallery

Finn had always believed Patalum was too quiet for thunder. The village hummed with wind through wheat, water through irrigation trenches, ladles in pumpkin soup. But thunder belonged to the coast or the mountains, not a town that smelled like warm dirt and drying herbs. Still, on that sticky afternoon when the sun lay on the fields like a wool blanket, there was thunder anyway. ...

Sometimes the world didn’t wait for you to be ready. It just kicked the door open, threw the sunlight in your face, and expected you to run with it. That was how the morning felt to Finn. From the moment he’d stepped outside, Patalum was alive. Lelokos with tails in bloom drifted into t...

When the Autumn King first brushed his paw over the world that week, Pinku felt it in the tips of his horns before he saw it with his eyes. A hush moved through the branches, ripples of color blooming from green and violet into ember-orange, maple-red and glittering gold. Pinku stood still beneath them and the air carried a crispness that tasted faintly of spice. A leaf detached above him with a soft pop and spiraled ...

The village had begun its slow turn from summer back into autumn studies. Wagons rattled down the lane towards Castle Lothain’s road, loaded with grain, produce and today, satchels that swung from the small backs of Crederians. On tables and porch rails, uniforms waited pressed and neatly pinned, or aggressively personalized with studs and ribbon and slogans that had to be discreetly trimmed to satisfy academy rules. The season-changing quills that came with t...

The day the Eladrian Sea opened before them, Pinku tightened the strap of his lifeline twice more than necessary and pretended his paws weren’t shaking. Little Courage rocked in Windan’s quiet harbor which felt steadfast if he didn’t look down at the water too long. “Ready?” Aremis asked in a soft, hopeful voice. The orange bab hovered by the mast, eyes bright. “As I’ll ever be,” Pinku answered, trying...