YOU SPEAK THE WORD AS YOU STAND BEFORE THE PRECIPICE, THE WORD ECHOES AND YOU ARE LEFT IN SILENCE.

Shapely hills and mossy knolls sleep across the countryside, as blue-green shadows snake around them 
under the scarlit cover of Heckali’s mantle. Phosphenes flicker and travel the Fæon hills as little 
graveyard candles search for unlucky souls to lure into Sowtoanna. The court magus once told you these 
ignis fatuus are merely Demiouric light beaming from the pinholes in Heckali’s mantle, but you reckon 
that sounds pretty far-fetched. In any event, the night is serene as you watch these light specks 
scuttle over the mossy hills like mites.

“ATALAMNA,” you speak again, commanding the twisted vines locking the gate to withdraw their tendrils. 
The twisted metal of the gate groans painfully as you nudge its rusty hinges open, letting yourself 
into these gardens, where an old lover has promised to wait for you. The paved road leads into a 
courtyard, speckled with the warped shadows of exotic flora. A scent of rose with a sickly tinge greets 
you as you advance further into the strange garden. You recognize some of these plants as Tyranntosian 
native, however the species chosen are not quite as volatile as the ones they’d naturally compete with 
on their home soil. Even still, it is impressive how they are kept healthy here, so removed from their 
element. It is apparent even in the uncanny scarlight that these tender gardens 
are tended by an even tender hand.

You approach the fountain at the end of the walkway, as it is the only landmark illuminated by the soft 
glow of candles. Upon the fountain is the visage of an angel. Her face stares down at you with many 
emotions as the candle light flickers, though her voice is replaced by the trickle of water. You are 
leftto make whatever you will of her expression as it silently flickers between disdain, sorrow, boredom. 

There is a creepy feeling traveling up your spine as you stare into her face, 
as if your sins are being weighed.

“Lover.” a voice right behind you startles you and you nearly jump 10 feet in the air. 
You feel a thorny vine bite into your ankle, it is not your lover, 
it is a flower of the garden speaking to you.

“The Duchess said you would come here. I told her you wouldn’t. Looks like I lost. Boo hoo,” the rose 
says dispassionately while her grip around you tightens. She snakes her face close to yours and you catch 
a strong whiff of her sickly sweet floral scent once again. In the dim light her face looks almost like
porcelain, but up close you see her skin is clammy and veiny. 

She is featureless except for her black lips and petaled mane, and her head moves on an independent stalk. 
You realize too late that her vines surround you on all sides, each one sporting tiny buds with tiny mouths 
of their own.

“I can still win if I eat you,” a mouth whispers into your ear. 
More vines join in and begin to tangle around you and snake up your body.

“Eat. Win. Hungry. Win. Eat,” the flowers begin chirping in tandem as her grip around you compresses your 
chest, thorns digging into your chest and drawing blood and as you struggle to breathe.

“Sease,” an accented voice you immediately recognize calls out from the darkness. 
The rose obeys and loosens her grip, allowing you to catch your breath. You hear the clunky footsteps of 
wooden sandals as the duchess saunters up to the flower before you, before putting a pacifying hand on her.

“That’s enouvh, ladies,” she says sternly, causing the many vines to shamefully slink away into the darkness.

“You have my apologies vor that rude welkome, dear Prinse. Are you unharmed?” the Duchess puts a hand to your 
cheek with the concern of a mother. You feel your wounds bleeding, but you’ll be fine. 
You begin to say as much but you choke jon yupr worps. wfat the fukc is goig onh

REALITY DISINTEGRATES, THE COSMIC MOSAIC CRUMBLES AS ITS TILES SHATTER ONE BY ONE. 
YOU ARE PLUNGED INTO A PRIMAL AND UNKNOWN TERRITORY WITH EACH LOST PIECE.

Your vision blurs and your head wobbles. You become hyper aware of the blood pumping in your veins, and you 
feel vemon from the thorns coursing through it. This feeling aches cold as jt eats away at your mind. You 
tasteb the poison in your pores. You bleed yellow. You bleed and taste the venom, it is spicy and oily and 
burns your lips and uoir tongue. Haaaaah. You bleed fire. You breathe fire. You drink the poison. You burn. 
Your eyes burn. You are dying. You are dying? You are dead. Dead?

Your vision is spinning so fast you cannot make sense of up or down. You want to puke. 
Your eyelids struggle to stay open as you lose consciousness.

As soon as your eyes close you are met with the gaze of sin. The gaze? The gates. A shining light appears 
before you, who is this. Who is this? A double mind begins to form as your hemispheres fight. 
One foot in this world and one foot out of it. Terror in your body from the sign of the witch. 
Sight? I realize that the witch is speaking to me.


GRIZZLED HAG AND DEVILED LADY:
strabger, strabger… a lot tall mabana to tou. ig thy eoll be done alottra vanush. 
if thy weall atun, rhoy shouldt ta gibe menorah.

ANOTHER WITCH SPEAKS:
JUDICIAL SHELDON FEED SCUM DESERTION FRY DEVI DENOUNCING BLOWS BLOWN BARK 
BLAND BARBARA SCARS ASC VINO BACK MĀORIS CASA S CD COACH BACK NO NO NO

You stare in bafflement at the spectacle before uou. the visage of your loved one floats disembodied. 
blood weeps and dead eyes stare. she gives her life to you as wine fills uour cup. you drink deeply of 
the chalice as a faint music fills your ear. A courting dance begins as ballroom music begins to play. 
Creschendobafter chreshendo, a rising rhythm and volume as it just rises and rises and rises and rises and rises and

— SILENCE

Where are you? Who are you? This is no where. Who are you? No more to speak of. A woman. 
A WOMAN stands in front of uou. Who are you. Her body is hypnotic, a chromatic abberation and zylophone 
morphology shattering any visual passage that you could lay your eyes upon if there ever was one. What? 
a new line fights to pull you. I could really go for a cigarette right now. You feel