It lives in the dust. It lives in the remnants.
They say the city that sits on the horizon at sunset is nothing but cosmic dust. I say otherwise. I’ve been there. For some reason I left. I can’t remember the reason. I can’t remember anything about it. I seek answer. I have to return. So last night, or maybe it was five days ago, I set out to find it. I’m on the right path, one of many I think, each of them hidden and easy to fall from. Continue reading
There is a potion that can be made from the bright yellow mushroom that grows in the vales beyond the blue grasses. The potion must be made in a certain way or it would contain no power at all. The potion had to be made twice, once at sunrise and once at sunset, of the same day. So in truth, it was two potions. Whatever the potion made at sunrise did, the potion made at sunset could undo. 