“Friends, I don’t know how much you’ve heard about this place. I don’t know whether you’ve heard the stories – the rumours – about what has happened here in the past. This is the story of Carn’s Brook. You’ve heard of this surely?”
“Those who could rushed to the borders, carrying Cenja’s secrets with them. That which was left behind, Grafan buried – so deep as to never be disinterred. Duier’s great library was unwritten, given to Belka, the only person used to carrying such sorrow. Its buildings were torn down, gravestones shattered, engravings uncarved themselves.
One by one its envoys became a part of Duier once more. Then, when it could hold Corpus back no longer, it brought about its own end. Keen, once a priest of a ghostly moon, saw to both of their unravellings”
“…Belka, when the earth around it has dried too completely to sustain it, the stone fern gathers up its leaves close and pulls up its own roots from the earth – we cannot hear the cries of plants, but we must assume that it hurts it some to do so – but still it does so, and it lets the winds take it with them until it finds what it is looking for. And perhaps it settles there or moves on again and again, but each time it must it takes the risk – because staying where the dry stone sucks the life away from it is undoubtedly the worst fate it can imagine”
– Karuum, the Heart of Growth
“Tomorrow we’re going camping! Bris promised forever ago and is finally going to take us. It’ll be me and Korrin, but Venz, Belka and Femrir are coming too. I’m not sure how many tents we’re taking, or even if we’re taking tents. I hope Bris doesn’t try to make us sleep outside again.
It’s going to be great. Bris says that she’s going to show us a waterfall and teach us about some of the plants and animals she’s found. I’m going to add them all to the book. Maybe I’ll even be able to come up with some new recipes too!”
C/W: death (from opening), moderate violence
“I know you won’t want to talk to me after I tell you, or even listen. So, I’m writing – in case I don’t make it, in case that one day after you want to read it. Maybe when the day comes that I’m gone and Korrin is grown, you might let him read it too.
It’s dangerous out here, doing this. I do it because it’s what I know. It’s what I’m good at. Out here the winds seem to grow colder and colder; knowing that you’re safe, the both of you, warms me against them. Stay warm by your fires. Stay safe.”