Charnicole

Beyond the veil of mortal sight, where time itself doth falter and stars are but fleeting candles in an endless dark, there drifts a Presence. Vast beyond measure, ancient beyond memory, it wanders the cosmic void, untouched by the petty reckonings of men and gods alike. Yet even eternity, in all its dreadful splendor, is not without its curiosities.

Thus, with but a whisper, a thought—a gentle stroke upon the loom of fate—It remakes the barren firmament. Where once lay naught but dust and silence, now burgeon worlds of wonder, rich with treasure and ripe for the plucking. Planets bloom with bounteous gifts, the heavens teem with hidden providence, and in the heart of one unassuming sphere, life stirs. Humanity awakens, none the wiser to the hand that shaped their fortune, to the architect unseen.

And yet, as they toil and triumph, as they carve dominion from the void, a shadow lingers at the edge of thought. Too oft do they find the road paved smooth, too oft do their hands alight upon that which they did not sow. In whispers and in dreams, in fleeting glimpses betwixt wake and slumber, a question takes root—Are we alone?

A few, cursed with sight keener than most, seek the hidden hand that pulls their strings. They peer into the dark, and the dark peers back—silent, patient, and amused. For It doth not govern, nor meddle, but merely watches... and waits.

What fools these mortals be, who dance so blithely upon a stage set long before their time.

Table of Interesting indeed

Table of contents

Volume 1