Marrok ~upd~ | Fort

In the silence, she heard footsteps behind her.

The figure smiled. At least, the porcelain face seemed to crack in a way that might have been a smile. fort marrok

"You've been repairing things for years," it continued. "Clocks. Hearts. But you've never tried to repair what's broken here. What's been screaming in the well since before the first stone was laid." In the silence, she heard footsteps behind her

"Ready for what?" Elara asked, her hand drifting to the knife at her belt. "You've been repairing things for years," it continued

"You hear the well," the figure said. Its voice was soft, almost kind. "You hear it because you're almost ready."

"I'm not a soldier," Elara said.

Lightning split the sky. For an instant, the figure's hat was blown back, and she saw its face—or rather, the lack of one. A smooth, featureless oval of porcelain, with only the faintest impression of features beneath, like a mask not yet finished.