Shadows of the Mind

Frost Moon was drawing to a close, and winter had already arrived in the northern nations of the continent.

The icy north wind howled through the city streets, raising shrill whistles as it passed through gaps between buildings. Snow on the rooftops was swept into the air, dancing in a hazy curtain as though another snowfall had arrived.

Yet all of it was kept outside by thick walls, layered crystal glass, and heating systems.

Gawain sat in his study, leafing through a recreational book about supernatural tales from the northern continent. In his other hand, he held a dip pen, casually sketching images and inspirations that surfaced in his mind onto a sheet of draft paper. The howling wind outside had been filtered by the glass, leaving only faint echoes upon entering the room. Blended with the low, gentle music drifting from the Magical Devices in the corner, those echoes made the room feel even more tranquil.

Betty stood quietly beside the desk, her hands folded over the apron of her maid uniform. With her head lowered, she nodded off again and again, letting out soft snores.

Gawain glanced at the napping Betty and could not help shaking his head with a smile. He returned his attention to his sketch, but then an odd sensation traveled through the hand holding the dip pen. Accompanied by a light snap, he looked down and saw that the tip of the pen, which he had used for quite some time, had split. Ink leaked from the crack, dripping onto the paper and spreading into a stain.

Gawain frowned, set the broken dip pen aside, and looked at the lines on the paper—a winding little river flowed quietly past antique brick-and-tile houses along its banks. A small stone bridge crossed the water, while the