Dark Land Chronicle -

Three tribes remain. The Candle-Folk, who carve wicks from their own hair. The Buried, who live in the fossilized ribs of a beast so large its skull is a cathedral. And us—the Scribes of the Last Lantern.

I write this on the hide of a blind cave-sheep, using ink made from crushed luminescent fungus and my own blood. Because someone must remember. dark land chronicle

Not yet. Not yet. The sun is only sleeping. Three tribes remain