#sand stone wall cladding

[rajstoneandtiles]

Indulge in luxury with our exquisite range of stone cladding in Sydney. Elevate your property's curb appeal and interior ambiance with our superior quality and stunning natural stone options.

[jlheon]

𝓕𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒 ୨୧ 𝐍𝐑𝐊

(𝓹airing) ── nrk x fmr ꣑୧ 𝓮stablished relationship ; fluff (𝔀ordcount) five-hundred 𝓹eng's note. america core for my bf 🦅 𝓫ookshelf

𝓼ynopsis. spending the fourth of july with your boyfriend at the beach

you walk beside your boyfriend from the parking lot to the beach.

clad in his one of his hoodies due to the breeze and coolness being near the ocean gives off. your hair blowing in the wind slightly at riki grabs your hand.

the soft sand touching your feet as you maneuver through the crowds of families in the sand. sprawled out on mats, picnic blankets, towels, and beach chairs.

“i don’t think we’ll find a spot here,” riki squeezed your hand, “we can watch from the car.”

“no! i have a spot for us,” you dismissed him, “just follow me!”

you drag riki along amongst the crowd for a bit when you finally step feet off the sand and onto a grassier area. he quickly hands you your sandals and slides on his before continuing on your path.

walking uphill until you get to the top of the hill where there’s a couple of beach chairs and benches. the only two people there being you and riki as everyone else opted to watch the show from the sand.

you tug on your boyfriend’s hand a little harder as you climb to sit on the ledge of the stone wall looking down on the ocean and the beach. not to high up but enough to make you feel like you and riki were the only people on earth.

“look,” you tap riki’s shoulder, “they’re staring!”

as the noises register in his brain, he looks up at the sky over the ocean. sparking shots of red, white, blue, and other colors illuminating the sky.

though his vision quickly shifts to the girl next to him. the colors from the fireworks shining against your face that is grinning softly mixed with subtle light from the moonlight.

riki thinks he’s never seen anyone prettier.

your eyes brightening not just from the sky but the pure joy your body emits from sharing such an intimate moment with your boyfriend.

your lips curled into a soft smile as you gaze into the chilly summer night.

riki thinks how could there have ever been a time where he wasn’t in love with you.

in love with you.

riki finally feels that it’s the right time to utter the three words he has spent weeks stuck on.

was it too early in your relationship? did your other partners wait or say it immediately? did you love him back?

“ki, you’re not looking at the fireworks,” you interrupt his whirlwind of thoughts, your head tilted to the side in confusion.

“i love you,” riki returns your stare with an expression full of love.

you take a minute before responding, “i love you too,” flustered face turning to look back at the sky, hoping it masks the growing heat on your cheeks.

he smiles to himself at your cute actions and scoots closer. to when your legs are lightly pressed against the other’s and wraps an arm around your shoulders. bringing you closer to him and guiding your head to rest on his shoulder.

“i love you,” riki repeats again with a proud grin on his face as a fireworks goes off simultaneously.

[astralnymphh]

ellie with a back or shoulder tattoo..❤️‍🔥

ct; blurb, sub!ellie with a tinge of attitude, beach day, massaging (ellie receiving), very suggestive, tattoo is mostly up for reader interpretation, slight pussy play (ellie receiving). period started in the middle of jotting this, so apologies if it became rushed! otherwise, HUZZAH! [ellie img from keaneq_ on pinterest]

for all nerd intents— it would maybe be a dragon. unsure what else would be on her back (perhaps something cosmic?), but all is up for interpretation! so particular with the placement, though; it would peak out from her tanks, buying her the reason to wear them more frequently. and of course— she does. if there's a way to keep your eyes on her, she most definitely will deploy that advantage. "see how sick my tat looks in this shirt, babe? damn, best decision ever." (starts flexing her arms like an idiot) anywho, a scenario, if you will: waves crashing near, seagulls squawking off ears, and the scent of damp sand everywhere— you're at the beach, secluded in secret. ellie suggested you find secrecy, and it was right off the bat that you located the perfect, boulder-walled cove. situating yourselves between those stone giants, you could talk, touch, tangle, and canoodle to your heart's fullest content. in seclusion, instead of wearing a tank, ellie had clad this black sports bra. intentionally; it flaunts her freckles, her lean shoulder muscles, her new tattoo— so deep and dense soaked in sunlight, glistening since you're giving her body quite the pat-down with sunscreen. goddess knows that pale girl depends on it.

right now, though, she need not wear anything on her torso at all. "fuck— that's the spot, oof," she rasps harshly, groans with pleasure into the netting of her beach chair. it just had to turn into a massage sesh. poor ellie works so hard to provide for you two. who's to say she doesn't need some tender touching care? you roll your thumbs along the sides of her nape, pushing and ruching her skin slow and sensual. ellie is convinced you were covertly trained for this. it feels like you are. "ah— babe, can you, uh, go lower?" her voice strains, and she reaches a hand back, nudging the band of her swim shorts downward. the tattoo's length is now revealed entirely, and it draws your pupils and fingertips to venture upon it. noticing where you two connect, you stare; her perky little butt had been pressed into your crotch for minutes now, and all the impulsive fibers in your brain wanted to do— was grope. but you palpate above it, acting unbothered. it serves for a bit, until ellie makes the usual sly and stupid remark about it, her tone clearer and louder, "enjoying the view? hmhm, 'can't say I let you do this too often." and you can feel the purpose hot on her flesh when she adjusts her hips, drives her ass a tad into your groin— so you grip one side. control filled that grip. it turns vice, and so does your question, "are you enjoying being touched here? seems like it." the top knuckles of your digits curling an inch under her pulled waistband. the auburn bun you shot gazes of daggers at just then, turns away so she can somewhat face you, given her position. playful eyes of green answer before her throat can, and they ring with the audacity to provoke you further. heavy-lidded, low-browed. "tchh— obviously. I did tell you to go lower," her tone laden in attitude, plastered with a shit-eating grin. now, ellie did tell you that, but her voice emphasized that you hadn't gone low enough. hadn't trailed past the tail of her tattoo.

pretty slick of her. it however, doesn't compete with the slickness you discovered leaking from her cunt. as one hand continued its caressing of her inked spine, the other ran fingertips over the fabric of her stygian shorts, slotting the damp material in-between her pussy lips, and stamping her clit down with your thumb. "mhh, huh, fuuck," through her whimpers, she freed a scoff; impatient-sounding, "is this all ur' gonna do? tease me?" the tight muscles of her thighs softly clench your wrist. you knit your brows at her, removing the pressure your thumb gave, "just admiring your back baby, be patient."

[daenerysaizie]

𐔌 . ⋮ REALM’S DELIGHT .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

MK1 x Targaryen!Reader

Note:

Game of Thrones concept included in MK 1. Even though, Game of Thrones is kanonically a show in the MK world (shown in the DLC), in this fanfic it’s not lol. Also, I will be changing plots and details for the both. Will get confusing as I’m not an experienced writer and yes :3 OH! You’re also basically Daenarys, sharing the look of classic Valyrian (only hair and eye color) and characteristics. If you don’t know anything about Game of Thrones, don’t worry I will explain it in the fic? But do realize it’s heavily rewritten so it’s not the same as the kanon one. Heavily inspired by “Kombat Hearts” by @ilykirara and “New Era” by @atlasofthestaars . I love this two fics so so much<3 female reader? But read however you like.

Edit: changed the story lil bit to fit the flow🩷

Chapter 1 — Everytime a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin.

In the year 283 AC (After Conquest) on Dragonstone, Westeros, a storm raged, with fierce winds and crashing waves echoing the pain that consumed Queen Rhaella. She lay in labor, her face pale and drawn, haunted by fear—fear of soon losing a husband to his madness and sons to a brutal world. Yet, she clung to her strength, whispering, “This child is of House Targaryen,” as though breathing life into the fire in her womb.

At the storm’s peak, the child was born—a girl with silvery hair and eyes like amethysts. Rhaella looked upon her newborn daughter with a bittersweet smile. Her breaths grew shallow, each one softer than the last, yet her gaze held firm. She would not yield to death, not yet. Her lips parted, and with a fragile voice, she spoke her child’s name—a final act of love and defiance.

—

They called you Stormborn. The youngest child of King Aerys, princess of Dragonstone—a darling of the fortress that rose dark and forbidding from the rocky, windswept island, surrounded by an endless sea. In your early years, you grew up there, often found by the beach, close to the waves, with sand in your hair and the scent of salt in your nose. You loved the sea; it made you feel free. The cold, unyielding stones of Dragonstone comforted you, and to your young eyes, this was home. Warm and protective.

You were never alone. Upon your mother’s death, the King, your father, appointed guards and servants to remain by your side at all times, just as he had for Viserys, your elder brother. Before you or Viserys, Queen Rhaella had suffered multiple miscarriages and stillbirths. This led the King, who was starting show signs of insanity, to suspect her, and he sent her away to Dragonstone from King’s Landing. He would visit her only after executing someone by fire.

Raised on the island, you knew little of the world beyond—King’s Landing, the Seven Kingdoms, or even your eldest brother, Rhaegar, whom you met only twice. You have met your father supposedly just once, when you were a babe. Viserys was your only guide, the voice that taught and reassured you. Sharing quite the big of age gap, he knew beyond the misty, cold walls.

When conditions grew too dangerous, you were too young to understand why you had to leave.

“Brother, please come with me. I’m scared,” you whispered, clinging to him. Viserys held you tightly. “I must stay. I am the Prince of Dragonstone, It is right for me to stay,” he replied, pressing a small bag into your hands. “Sister, I promise I’ll bring you back home. Protect this at all costs. It is the crown of King Jaehaerys I.” You clutched the bag close, nodding.

A man with clad in blue took your small hand and led you away from the only home you’d known to a place far, far away. Clutching the bag with the crown, you looked back at your brother for a final look. The maids and servants who had raised you weeped as they watched you leave.

In time, you would soon forget the feel of home and the memories it bore, but never the promise your brother made or the vow you’d taken to guard the crown.

—

You stayed at a placed called the Lin Kuei when you fled from home. The Lin Kuei's former Grandmaster knew your father personally. How? You didn't know. All you knew was that the Grandmaster was kind enough to lend a hand to your father and save his only daughter. "Do you know why you are here, little dragon?" He bent down to your toddler body. You gripped the golden crown to your chest. "Home is dangerous." you replied as you looked at the Grandmaster. He had the face of a strict man, but deep in his eyes, you could see honor and kindness burn. He hummed as he nodded, "You will be safe here." he told you as he put his hand on your head. And you were, for years.

Obviously, being in the clan, you were destined to meet the three sons he had. You became close to the youngest one, Tomas. He bore almost the same burdens as you and understood your pains and discomfort. Eventually, you got close to Kuai Liang too. He took care of you and guarded you away from the clan's considerably cruel side. However, as for Bi-Han, you never got the chance to get close. He was heir to his clan, making him busier than his brothers. To your memory, he was cold and strict, stricter than his father. The only vivid memory you have of him is him asking you how your hair and eye color were so... different. You could not give him an answer that satisfied his curiosity.

As you got older, when you showed the sign of maturity in body and mind, you were sent away once again. Somewhere much safer and peaceful. According to the former Grandmaster, the clan was not made for you; you were meant to live a life that was peaceful, not a life to become a skilled warrior. Thus, Madam Bo, a former Lin Kuei warrior, took you to the village where she resided. You would keep contact in with the Lin Kuei brothers through letters. Though, the last letter you got from was a year ago now.

You lived with Madam Bo for many years now. She taught you everything you needed to know, from tough love to combat (for self defense). You remember the moment she brought you to Fengjian as clear as day. The night was as silent as death when she brought you to this quaint village. Her horse's gallops echoed through the stillness, bringing little bit of life to the sleeping village. She had you firmly seated in front of her on her horse, your hair skillfully concealed beneath her deep purple scarf. Madam Bo took great care to inform you of the local norms and the dos and the don’ts. She explained that your unique features, which were considered royal in Westeros and the Essos, would seem different and will be only met with curiosity. You were also strongly advised to not speak of your old home or family name.

Through Madam Bo, you were able to meet Kung Lao and Raiden. "Thick-skulled boys," she would call them. Growing up, the three of you sparred, trained, and played together. Being homeschooled, Raiden and Kung Lao were diligent in ensuring that you didn't miss out on any fun experiences. After grueling training sessions, the males took turns to take you out for treats. In return, you helped them with various tasks around the farm. This included harvesting the freshly grown vegetables, a labor of gratitude from you. They were also vigilant in ensuring that no boys with ‘ill intentions’ ever bothered you with courting or whatever. Whenever you insisted you could handle yourself, they would respond with a confident "I know," followed by a statement that they knew even better because they were males. In retort, you would often ask, "In that case, should I be cautious of you two as well?" to which they would simply shut down.

—

It was early in the morning, 5 AM to be exact, as you sat on your bed staring at the golden crown in your hands. It was the last thing you had that represented your family's existence and was evidence of your royal heritage. The crown had a large sigil of a three-headed dragon at its center, while seven smaller gems of different colors decorated the rest. You had the same dream again. At this point, you could recall every detail.

"BURN THEM ALL! BURN THEM ALL!" A hoarse, old voice boomed through the room. An old man with a long white beard and crazed eyes yelled, ordering his pyromancers (who used some kind of chemicals to start major fires) while he sat on the Iron Throne, a seat made from thousands of swords. The pyromancers hesitated. It was your father who sat on the throne, though you didn’t know it was him; his unmistakable Valyrian looks—white hair and purple eyes—gave it away. He continued to yell until one of his guards, a golden-haired man with blurry face, drew his sword, stabbed him in the back, and slit his throat. The golden-haired guard watched your crazed father bleed to death as he sat on his throne, yet your father still whispered the same thing as he bled on the floor: "Burn them all."

You ponder if the dream was a real event or not. After all, you were never there to witness this event, and you were extremely young when you fled from home. Plus, you had no memory of ever meeting your father or what he looked like. What if it was a cruel joke your mind played?

"No use thinking about it," you whisper to yourself as you put away the crown into your nightstand's drawer. With one swift move, you get up to get ready for the day. After all, you had so much to do. You start your morning routine and change from your nightgown into more proper clothes for the day.

—

The day went by rather quickly. From getting fresh vegetables and produce early in the morning to serving customers until closing time, the day went smoothly. Almost too smoothly. You sigh and hum as you watch your two friends put away food like vacuums, with Kung Lao doing most of the work as usual. It was amusing - how did his stomach not burst? It was superhuman, you swore. Soon, you saw Madam Bo approach the two with a massive bill in her hand. Poor Raiden and his wallet.

Despite closing hours arriving, a few drunken uncles from the village stayed behind. One made a mess on the bottom floor, which you had to clean up. You mopped the floor as the drunken man apologized. "Ahhhh, I'm sorry! Here, here, have this," he slurred his words as he handed you an unopened bottle of beer. You shook your head and refused his token of apology. You chuckled inwardly as you washed away the mess from the floor.

Suddenly, Madam Bo came down to the bottom floor and crashed into the table, breaking it. She was unconscious. "Madam Bo?!" you exclaimed in horror. The drunken uncles behind you seemed to sober up and stare. You looked up to see the culprit with wide eyes.

The man with very familiar hair jumped down to the floor, landing next to Madam Bo's unconscious body. He wore mask that covered his face. Your chest tightened as fear clouded your mind for her. You tried running towards her as the previously drunken guy, now sober from the shock, grabbed your wrist. "Are you crazy!? He's going to kill you!" he whispered as he tugged you, preparing to run. "Go" you whispered back to him. The once-drunken guy thought for a moment and let your wrist go when he saw your determined face. He dashed out of the place with a few other people. You still gripped the mop in your hand as the man approached you. He had grey hair that reminded you of Tomas from your childhood. Was it truly him? You hadn't seen the man for years!

"Surrender to the Lin Kuei! Or end up like her," he replied as he prepared his karambit, aiming it at you. It is him! Is this what the Lin Kuei does now? you thought anxiously. "I thought the Lin Kuei protected people from harm. I never thought you would stoop this low," you spoke calmly, with a hidden wobble in your voice. How could your childhood friend do this?

Kung Lao and Raiden shout your name from the floor above after taking out the other members of the clan. They try to go down to help you, but Bi-Han and Kuai Liang stop them in their tracks. "You interfere with Lin Kuei business. Leave, or face our wrath!" Bi-Han warns as he dramatically stands on the rooftop. Kuai Liang approaches the two with his weapon from behind, swinging it in the air. "Abandon Madam Bo and her? Not happening," Kung Lao replies. After his reply, Bi-Han launches himself at Raiden while Kuai Liang grabs Kung Lao, pulling him towards himself as he yells ferociously, "Get over here!"

Tomas slowly approaches you with his karambit, closing the distance between you two, as if he were a hunter and you were his prey. You contemplate your actions as you grip the mop tighter until your knuckles turn white. When the gap closes, he swings his karambit at you. You dodge his attack and use the tip of the mop to strike his stomach multiple times before hitting him hard on the head with the mop's end. He falls down. "No, it can't be that easy," you think to yourself as you look at his ‘unconscious’ body. Emotions surge through you the more you look at him, unsure how to feel, but you take the result for granted, leaving the mop near his head and running towards Madam Bo.

The noises around you seem to blur as you barely breathe. You gently turn her body to see her, and your hands shakily brush her face to sweep away the strands of her hair. "Madam Bo?" you whisper with great worry and fear. Soon enough, Kung Lao and Raiden come running down to you. They ask about your condition first before turning to Madam Bo. "Oh no. Is she—" Kung Lao is cut off when Madam Bo suddenly opens her eyes and looks at you three. "Dead? Not yet." You three can hear the playfulness in her voice as she stands up. You and Raiden are quick to help her, but she brushes away your hands as she swiftly lights up her cigarette. "Madam Bo, how are you—" Kung Lao gets interrupted again. Raiden points at the stairs, "Guys!"

"So, Madam Bo, are they ready?" A man comes down as he takes his hood off, revealing his glowing eyes and chiseled face that bears a small, proud smile. You notice it's the same man who caught your attention earlier today. Madam Bo was fondly standing at his table as she served him tea. You anxiously fidget with the ring on your middle finger. Raiden notices your fidgeting and gently takes your hand, holding it firmly with care.

Madam Bo stands in front as if to present you three. "These two are a bit thick in the head, perhaps... But they are ready," she says, referring to Raiden and Kung Lao. "However, I did not think my child would be included in the exam," she chuckles as she glances at you.

"His eyes are glowing," Raiden blurts out to Kung Lao, who is on his right side with you on his left, still holding your hand.

"I am Lord Liu Kang, God of Fire and Protector of Earthrealm," the man with glowing eyes introduces himself as he connects his hands together and folds his arms. In response, you gently let go of Raiden's hand to bow to the god. "God? Earthrealm?" Kung Lao asks with curiosity as Raiden observes the god, silently mourning the loss of contact with your hand.

"Madam Bo has been preparing you for this moment since you were boys. Today you have proven worthy of joining my champions," he explains further.

"This fight was a test?" Raiden asks. The god smiles and nods, "Of your ability and character, yes. Bi-Han, Kuai Liang, Tomas," he calls out to the Lin Kuei members. Bi-Han and Kuai Liang come down the stairs while Tomas, who was already on the same floor, stands up and positions himself behind the god.

"So these three aren't thugs?" Kung Lao asks suspiciously, eyeing them. You can only send an apologetic look to Tomas, who returns it with soft eyes.

"The Lin Kuei is a centuries-old clan dedicated to Earthrealm's defense," the god explains.

"You keep saying Earthrealm. Don't you mean Earth?" Raiden asks, confused. Madam Bo chuckles as you smile. You already possessed a little information of this topic. "You boys have so much to learn," she says.

"Earth is only part of Earthrealm. Earthrealm itself is one of many realms. Together they comprise the whole of the universe," the god explains, gesturing with his hands. "The realms can be fierce, bitter rivals. That's why we need champions to defend ours," Madam Bo adds. "The time draws near for the grand martial arts tournament between Earthrealm and the realm of Outworld. Held once each century, it allows each realm to demonstrate its strength. While our realms are at peace, there are Outworlders who would prefer us to be at war. Our victory in the tournament will... temper their zeal," the god concludes.

Madam Bo turns to the boys and partially to you, "I've taught you everything I can. You must finish your training with Lord Liu Kang," she informs them.

"More training? These three couldn't defeat us," Kung Lao asks skeptically. At his remark, Bi-Han scoffs audibly, which makes Madam Bo chuckle along with him.

"They were pulling their punches," she explains. You nod at her words as you remember the Lin Kuei being so formidable and strong. "Had we not held back, you would not have survived," Bi-Han says proudly and threateningly, stepping forward slightly. Lord Liu Kang blocks his way and interrupts him. "Come. The monks at the Wu Shi Academy await to continue your tutelage." The god offers the choice, which Kung Lao accepts without hesitation.

"And you, Raiden?" the god asks. Raiden hesitates, "Leave Fengjian? I'm needed here," he replies. Madam Bo steps in, "Earthrealm needs you, Raiden. You'll best serve the village by being one of its champions," she assures him. After considering for a moment, Raiden agrees to the god's offer with a simple "I understand."

"How about you? You have proven yourself to be worthy as well," the god turns to you as he utters your name. You, who had been silent the whole time, gape at his question. You point towards yourself, "Me?" you ask, to confirm. Madam Bo chuckles. "Come on! You heard the god. The three of us could train together like we always did!" Kung Lao says as he steps forward towards you as Raiden nods in agreement. You were unsure. "But I do not fight well and I cannot leave Madam Bo." you answer bluntly. At your words, Madam Bo chuckles as she pushes you towards the god by your waist. "Forgive me, Lord Liu Kang. As you can see, she is timid, obedient, and so humble. But she has the spirit of the dragon." she says. The god and everyone else only looks at you and awaits your answer. You sigh and nod, which earns a proud smile from Madam Bo.

"Excellent. I will join you soon. First, there are other champions I must gather," the god says.

—

Lord Liu Kang departed the tea house to gather his other champions with Kung Lao and Raiden shortly after him, to prepare for the Wu Shi academy.

The Lin Kuei stayed behind to clean up the aftermath of their physical test, during which you exchanged subtle glances with them. It had been over a decade since you last saw them, and they had transformed from boys into men, now towering above you easily. Their faces had become more defined and chiseled, contrasting the young boys you remembered.

“You dyed your hair.” Tomas remarks as he approaches you. You were setting the chairs upside down on the table to sweep any debris or broken objects. “Ah, I had to” you return his greeting with a warm smile and stand up straight. A moment of silence hangs between you, filled with the unspoken words and nostalgia.

“You and your brothers haven’t written for a year now. Why?” You ask with curiosity. As you ask about the lack of communication from the brothers, Tomas chuckles softly and explains, “Many more new initiates. How about you? You haven’t written to us as well,” He then turns it back on you, wondering why you haven't written either. You answer in a soft voice, your smile revealing a hint of melancholy. "Life hasn't changed much for me," you reply. "I didn't want to bother you or your brother."

Tomas can only hum in response and before you could speak. “We will leave” Bi-Han commands, followed by Kuai Liang, as he walks up to you and Tomas. You immediately bow to them in greeting, and Bi-Han responds with a nod. Kuai Liang, on the other hand, returns your greeting with a slight bow.

"It was lovely seeing you three again," you say, your smile lighting up the conversation. "I hope we'll meet more in the future." There was happiness in your voice as you express this sentiment, despite the awkwardness, it was still refreshing to be in their presence. Kuai Liang responds with a simple, but sincere "I agree." Bi-Han quickly guides his brothers and the members of the clan out of the tea house, after finish repairing.

As the repair work on the tea house concludes, you realize that the only task left is the chore of cleaning. With a sigh, you mentally prepare yourself for the tedious process of scrubbing and tidying up, accepting the fact that it's part of your responsibilities. Madam Bo helped you, as always.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Link sat patiently, still as a stone as he observed. The red clad strangers walked by the cell, one by one, a couple of guards who were patrolling in some sort of circular path.

The cell was small and cramped, and stiflingly hot. Speckles of sand told him the rest of the story - he was probably in Gerudo Desert.

So he'd been jumped and was in a cell in the Gerudo Desert. Then these weird people were Gerudo? He'd thought they'd stopped causing problems after Ganondorf was killed. And they weren't even dressed like Gerudo, and the ones patrolling right now were definitely men.

Link took a measured breath as the guard walked by once more. He paused briefly to watch the young Hero of Time, who just watched him in return with a blank face and piercing eyes. Eventually Link won the little staring contest as the guard resumed his patrol. If Link figured out the pattern, he could find a way out.

The wind blew, rattling cloth nearby. There was a strong smell of fruit in the air. The strange not-wolfos was panting, sprawled out on the ground in an attempt to cool off. Some dust flew down, and Link traced its path up to a small hole in the wall that served as ventilation between different rooms. He'd seen similar in the Gerudo fortress.

This wasn't his first time breaking out of prison, after all.

And he was going to break out. He wasn't going to let these weirdos hold him captive, and he needed to help the guy in the cell with him. The not-wolfos was kind of nice too.

Glancing right, he saw his teenage cellmate, who had barely budged from the corner where he'd been cruelly thrown. Link had tried to arrange him comfortably, had tried to wake him up. When he'd gotten nothing, he'd figured he was sick. But this was a sickness he didn't understand, and it looked like he was hurt too.

Link wondered what was wrong with him. He wondered if this was what would happen to one of the Kokiri if they ever left the forest... what was supposed to happen to him if he ever left the forest.

What would have happened if he'd actually belonged there.

He shook his head. He didn't belong anywhere. He already knew that. Which meant he didn't belong here, either.

Link glared as the guard walked by again. He'd find a way out of here, and he'd rescue the two with him. He was a Hero of Courage, and not even this smelly, forsaken dungeon would change that.

He'd beaten far worse.

[megthemewlingquim]

wasteland, baby! | two: concerning your time away from the dreaming

Summary: Dream takes you through his home and offers you a gift.

Pairing: Dream of the Endless x Reader

Warnings: none

A/N: Here's Chapter Two! Time to enter The Dreaming.

I will reitorate that there are MAJOR SPOILERS for The Sandman graphic novel series here. If you have not read "Fables and Reflections", "Brief Lives", "The Kindly Ones", and "The Wake", I would recommend you wait to read this until you have done so.

Read the previous chapter: one | an eternity of sand

wasteland, baby! masterlist

You come to your senses slowly, groggily, beginning to feel the environment around you: soft grass, warm sun and cool shade… and a gentle breeze on your face. It's a caress compared to the harsh, stinging winds of your dream.

No. It wasn't a dream, was it? Or… you're still dreaming…? You can't tell.

The blades of grass seem to enfold you in an embrace and the sun seems to kiss your face. It's been a while since you've felt this. You think that this is what Heaven would be like… You’d like to stay here.

There’s a blot of black in your peripheral vision. It is Dream, you realize as you sit up, watching you with a curious sort of fascination. His gaze is one of close observation; but you are not unsettled by this: if anything, somehow, you are reassured.

Dream steps forward. The blades of grass… and even the trees surrounding him… seem to bend in the wind towards him. Fiddler’s Green likes you very much, he says, his eyes becoming brighter with amusement.

“What?”

Fiddler’s Green, he repeats patiently.

“What’s… what's that?”

Where we are. The heart of the Dreaming. All travelers dream of this place.

“Fiddler’s Green…”

You look around, surveying the immense forest that spreads out before you — green fields, huge trees, a sunny blue sky and clouds, flowers of all sorts (some you recognize, others you know could only exist in dreams), rocky cliffs in the distance with waterfalls and rainbows tumbling down their jagged ends…

He missed you. Then, softer, I missed you.

You turn to look at him again, your eyes widened slightly. “We’ve never met before.”

That is how you remember it. Dream looks at you with knowing behind his star-like eyes. We have met before. But you forget in waking hours.

You’re not scared — just a bit bewildered. “Prove it.”

He chuckles, a sound of amusement from his throat. You were born in the year 1641 in the town of Salem, Massachusetts. In your childhood, your dreams were plagued by witches and demons, which were a part of the local gossip. You lived through the Witch trials and barely managed to escape with your life, as you started to advance in years but not in appearance and they suspected you. You’ve had nightmares about the townspeople finding you. You’ve burned, drowned, been stoned, and been shut away in a lone room. The latter was the worst: you had no one to help you. You were alone, chained to the wall, hungry and terrified and lonely. You called out for someone to help you but no one came. Often, you’d wake up screaming. It was such a memorable nightmare that you've never forgotten it, and every night you would pray that you never experienced it again.

Your heart pounds. Everything Dream has been saying is true.

There was one moment, however, where someone did come, though. You remember him as a thin man, clad in black, with eyes like stars.

You feel faint.

He healed your wounds and gave you bread and water. He set you free from that place. And you have not had that nightmare since then. Dream's small smile comes back again. Do you remember me now?

You put out a hand behind you to steady yourself from falling backward. "How do you know all of this?"

I know you, he says simply. When you do not respond, he elaborates. I've created your dreams and nightmares, and your hopes and loves for all your life. When you sleep, I am there with you. I travel through your dreams each and every night. You enter the Dreaming and so, you are with me.

"..... What?" you ask, voice trembling. You're still not scared, but you are overwhelmed.

It is a lot to take in, I know. May I show you what I mean?

"Sh-show me?"

He walks over to where you are sitting and holds out a hand for you. It's time that you see what you have missed.

Hesitantly, you take his hand. With ease, Dream helps you up from the ground and begins to walk. You follow beside him. It wasn't your imagination, you realize — the trees are bending, bowing to him.

"You said that… F-Fiddler's Green… missed me?"

Yes. He did. This is one of your most frequently visited places in the Dreaming. You spend time resting beneath the trees and running on the beaches with friends long gone. Fiddler's Green told me that he missed seeing you and knowing that here, in dreams, you were happy. When you were absent, he said, he did not know if you were alright.

"And.. Fiddler's Green…" You reach out a hand and place it on a nearby tree. "It… It's… not a person, is it?"

For a while, he was. But some time ago, he took up his position again. But I can still converse with him.

The bark underneath your hand pulses, slightly, as if a heart lies beneath it.

"When I spoke to… " You stop yourself. The gaze that Dream had at the mention of his son still lingers in your mind. "Lady Johanna…" you lie, "she told me that you are the creator of this place, and of all dreams and nightmares. That you are this place."

She spoke truly.

"When you say… you missed me… er…" You stop, not wanting to seem rude.

Speak your thoughts, dear one.

"Did you mean that you missed seeing me… in this dream-world?"

More than that. Dream ends the sentence and lets it sit in the air. Then, I missed seeing you grow up and change and love and find joy and face your fears. I missed seeing you, in dreams, escaping from the hell you have suffered in the waking world.

Stunned, you don't know what to say. "I don't remember you," you say. "I'm sorry."

While you go back over to him, he says, Tragic, is it not? I remember each and every human from the day they are born until the day they die. They spend a third of their lives in my realm, and not even once do they truly remember it. He leads you on, walking closely beside you.

But I do not need their remembrance. It is enough for me to know that through my work, I do what is necessary to keep humanity safe.

Soon, the forest starts to shrink and the trees become more sparse. You reach the end of a cliffside, with hills and valleys and cliffs all around you at the bottom. Up ahead, you see a castle — a huge, tan colored structure with brass dome roofs. Around it, or perhaps connected to it, are smaller structures and statues — you see Middle Eastern architecture, statues of ancient Grecian and Roman figures like Athena and Hephaestus, two five-story structures that you perceive to be theater boxes, a large statue of Siddhartha Gautama, and towers from your own time, ones you used to see in London. In the center, there are three smaller statues — a gryphon, a wyvern, and a pegasus. The castle is a hodge-podge of many cultures and structures, and it takes your breath away. Bridges that expand over a gigantic lake lead up to the castle from a few different directions — one, you notice, is held up by a gigantic stone hand. A pirate's ship rests on the glassy surface of the water. Further back, you see a multitude of different types of homes and other buildings, and even further still, in a shadow-y and dark area, two lonely, scary looking houses next to a huge cemetery. Beyond those is a large wall, with a gate that stands at the center.

This is my home. The Dreaming.

You turn back to Dream, who is looking out at this land with an expression of pride and adoration on his face. "It's beautiful," you say, awed and stunned.

You like it? he asks, looking at you now. His eyes are even brighter than you remember — you have never seen him so happy, so excited.

"I do," you say. "I wouldn't ever want to leave."

You may stay, if you wish.

You’re not sure if you’ve heard him correctly. "I'm sorry?" you ask, disbelieving.

Dream speaks slowly. You have been absent from this place for one hundred and ten years. Your mind has been devoid of true dreaming. If you wish, I will let you stay here for the same amount of time, and when it is over, you may leave. You still suffer from the ‘sleepy sickness’ - though it is now known as encephalitis lethargica. Not everyone has been cured of it yet… millions around the world still have the 'sickness', and it will take years of work on my end to cure them all. But… you may stay.

You ponder over it, and surprisingly come to a decision very easily. You have nothing in your real life; your parents and siblings are long dead, and you have lived your life in fear for hundreds of years. It is tempting, you know, to want to escape in dreams. And this temptation wins.

"I accept. Th-thank you."

It is done. Dream seems content with your answer. You are free, then, to do as you wish. And do not be afraid of what lies before you: as long as I am in the Dreaming, neither you nor anyone else here can be hurt — and I rarely leave the Dreaming these days.

I shall prepare a room for you in the castle.

"Thank you," you say, humbled and overwhelmed, "but you don't need to do that."

You are a guest here, and I offer hospitality to all of my guests, including those I do not know about. You are free to stay wherever you wish, of course, but if you do choose to reside in the castle, there will be a room waiting for you there.

A sudden change of emotion comes over Dream. His face darkens. Is it your imagination, or does the sky change — does the bright blue become a dull gray?

As quick as it comes, it is gone.

There is someone I would like you to meet, Dream says, lightening up once again. Lucienne, the Dreaming's librarian. She is my chief advisor. If you need anything at all, do not hesitate to ask me… but if you do not feel comfortable doing that, or for some reason I am unavailable, you may go to her.

He holds out his hand and you take it. His skin is smooth against yours. Your eyes meet.

"Thank you… your grace."

Dream laughs. The sound is quiet and reserved, but still filled with mirth and joy. The formalities are unnecessary. You may call me Morpheus, if you wish.

Morpheus. A mysterious-sounding name, one filled with darkness and intrigue. You like it immensely. "Alright," you say. "Morpheus."

In the way of dreams, you are suddenly within the castle that was once in front of you. You do not remember walking in, or even ending up at the bottom of the cliff. A second has passed since you were holding Dream’s hand on the cliffside, and now you are in a long hallway, walking on a red and gold carpet. Above you on either side are arched open windows, sunlight streaming in and lighting up the top half of the room. The carpet leads up some steps and goes to the right into another room. On either side of the steps are two pictures: one of William Shakespeare and one of someone else you do not recognize: Chaucer, perhaps?

In the next room is the library of dreams, which holds all of the stories that have ever been dreamed, imagined, or lost. Lucienne would be happy to give you a tour if you wish. The space and magnitude of this library may be disorienting but I assure you, you will not lose your way.

There are three others who frequently roam the castle and perform tasks for me. There is Matthew, my raven. There is Mervyn Pumpkinhead, the caretaker of the Dreaming. And there is Nuala, a little elf-woman from the land of Faerie. Should you need anything, they will help you, too.

“Faerie?”

Do you think that Earth is the only plane of existence, little dreamer?

You like the nickname, but you do not show it. “I did, maybe. Until… just now.” You chuckle, somewhat uneasily.

It would be wise to open your mind, then. You are in The Dreaming, and many things are possible here.

A thought rises and you ask, “Um… Morpheus? I’m… dreaming, right? Does that mean that… none of this is real? I’m going to wake up and… none of this will have happened?”

Dream comes up with an answer quickly — of course he does, he’s Dream. But it still surprises you. In the year 1593, I spent Midsummer’s Eve in the Waking. As part of a bargain I had made with him, I had asked a then-unknown Will Shekespear and his troupe to write and perform a play for me on the Sussex Downs, near the Long Man of Wilmington. Alongside me in the audience were the citizens of the land of Faerie, as well as their lord and lady: Auberon and Titania. The play was, in a way, about them. I had wanted them to be remembered through the ages, since the people of Faerie had chosen to leave the earthly plane forever, and would soon descend into myth and legend. Stories.

When it was nearly finished, Auberon made it known to me that things in the play had never happened to them. Titania had never rutted with an ass, and four Athenian lovers had never been put under a love potion by the incompetence of a Puck trying to fulfill his Master’s wishes.

You reach the end of the hall and turn to the right. A door opens and you step through, looking at a much smaller room lit up with golden light from long windows on the left side. The room is decorated with arches and chandeliers, and on the right side, a small sitting area with stained glass windows. There is wallpaper on the left side that looks like it would lead into a longer hallway, one filled with rows upon rows of books… a library…

I told him what I tell you now: ‘Things need not have happened to be true. Tales and dreams are the shadow-truths that will endure when mere facts are dust and ashes, and forgot.’

He lets you ponder on this. You both step forward, facing the wallpaper now. Morpheus looks down at you.

“Anything can happen,” you tell yourself, staring at the wall. “Anything can…”

The worst that could happen is you would bump your pretty little head on the wall. I wouldn’t do that to any of my guests. You’re a stubborn one, aren’t you?

You look up at him.

I… I meant no harm by it.

Morpheus looks almost… embarrassed. Nervous.

“You have caused none,” you say softly.

Together, you step through the wallpaper. You go through it as if you were just stepping into another room. Your bodies meet no resistance. It’s as if the wallpaper has opened up another hallway, one that is much larger than the one you just left.

All you see are books. Rows upon rows, shelves upon shelves… Books of all shapes, sizes, and colors and their titles are also of different lengths and subjects. An absolutely massive structure, the Library of Dreams seems much larger, even, than the castle itself. You have never seen a structure in all your life, and you know you will never see something like it anywhere but in dreams. It’s an awe-inspiring world of its own. You look up and you see floors above you that stretch upward… the ceiling never comes… and neither does the floor below you: you’re not on ground level. You’re somewhere entirely different. Everywhere you go, you are surrounded by books and shelves. There are some tables here and there, and spiral staircases leading up to different floors. Anyone could wander this library, you know, and wander it for their entire life, and never find their way out, or explore a passageway more than once.

You don’t dare touch any of the books. You would, you feel, disturb the sacredness of this place.

“You said… every book that’s ever been dreamed of?” you ask.

Morpheus nods. As Lord over that which is fleeting and fragile and strange, but even more so solid and strong and mundane, I am also Prince of Stories. I have dominion over these Stories that have never seen the comforting valley of a page of paper, and I have dominion over those that have, the ones that have traveled through time and down generations and across the worlds. Stories have existed since the beginning of time, and cultures have made them something to revere and love. They have had a multitude of changes and revisions, but they will always return to their original forms. But these… Morpheus takes a book from a shelf above you and flips through it. These stories are the original works of every dreamer in the universe. He looks back up at you. His eyes shine with what you can now only describe as love. It’s a beautiful look on him: he looks so happy, so fascinated with the world he has… is… Past, present, and future. Each and every dreamer is connected to this place in more ways than one. They are all authors of their own stories, even if they are not destined to be authors in their earthly lifetimes.

You, too, have books written here — a great many of them. I enjoy them immensely.

Your mind is racing, your eyes are wide with wonder, and it takes a moment for Morpheus’s words to register with you. “I’m sorry?”

“My Lord?”

A new voice. A softer, more melodic voice than Morpheus’s. A young-looking female in large spectacles and a long waistcoat approaches the both of you from the end of the floor. Her eyes meet yours.

“I noticed you were in the Library. We have a guest?”

Lucienne, this is our new guest. Morpheus introduces you by name. She will be staying with us in the Dreaming for the next hundred years or so.

Lucienne’s eyes widen. “You’re one of the mortals that disappeared from the Dreaming, aren’t you?” she asks, mostly to herself. “I recognize your name. You have a book in the library that documents your dreams. Since the year 1915, your pages have been blank. Where were you?”

She was in a ‘soft place’.

“For a hundred and ten years?” Lucienne gasps. “Mostly those in the soft places accidentally end up there while in the Waking, not while they dream, and they don’t lose time when they are there. What happened?”

Dream shakes his head. I do not know. The soft places are areas of the Dreaming that even I do not know much about. But let this be known: if a mortal becomes lost from the Dreaming from now on, we should send forces to go looking for them in the soft places first. We should have looked there first, Lucienne. We would’ve found her sooner.

“You — you looked for me?” you ask, incredulous.

“Yes,” says Lucienne, turning to you. “We did. Ever since Jed Walker… we have looked for any dreamer that has become lost to the Dreaming. You were one of them. The Dreaming is vast, sometimes overly so, and the soft places are unpredictable. We did look there, on occasion, either Lord Morpheus himself or other servants of the Dreaming, but found nothing. And then…”

Morpheus finishes for her. …other things occupied me and I regrettably could not continue the search. Many things happened and I will not trouble you with the details. Things have been… difficult… for the past five years, you must understand.

You don’t know what to say. “Why… Why were you… in the desert? When you found me?”

Morpheus stiffens. Lucienne looks up at him. They converse, silently, to themselves. Then Morpheus speaks, slowly: I often come to the soft places, the shifting zones, to think, in times of distress. How fortunate is it that I stumbled upon you, little lamb? He smiles. I am relieved that I found you. Your presence in the Dreaming has been missed dearly.

Morpheus's smile fades, and it is replaced by a tight line. It is here that I must leave you. If either of you need me, I will be on the shores of night.

"What are you going to do?"

I shall be working on a nightmare.

You blink, and Dream is gone.

[aioledreams]

FFXIVWrite 2024 Day 2: Horizon

Ciel is on her way to the Waking Sands for the first time.

They had stopped at the Thanalan settlement to rest the chocobos. Ciel climbs out of the back of the carriage and stretches her long limbs, arms above her head, hands not quite catching the sky. She does a few paces around the worn stone streets. She briefly shields her eyes from the ever beating heat and glare of the sun to get a better view of the sand coloured buildings that crowded the walls of the surrounding plateau. Between the spindly trees with their wide leaf crowns, the high stone walls, the plateau itself, and the cheerful red awnings, there was more shade in Horizon than there had been the whole way from Ul’dah. 

When she comes face to face with the driver, a smile crinkles his tan skin. Years in the sun had made it like leather, and it was clear he smiled often. “We’ll be continuing on to Vesper Bay in a few hours, but if your business needs more haste, it’s a short ride by chocobo porter.” The elder hyur gestures toward a yellow clad lalafell. They are surrounded by crates and a small cluster of chocobos nearest the gate and the stone steps leading down toward the village’s towering aetheryte. 

“Thank you for taking me this far,” Ciel replies with a smile of her own, fishing out a sum of gil to press into the carriage driver’s waiting hand. The man dips his head in thanks and the two part ways, the driver to tending his chocobos, Ciel toward Horizon’s chocobo porter. 

When she arrives amongst the crates and chocobos she isn’t the first in line to talk to the porter. A dark skinned man is already negotiating with the diminutive merchant. He had the sun bleached clothes of a desert native, but the telltale long pointed ears of an elezen. Curious, she thinks. She hasn’t run into many fellow elezen in Thanalan; but she hasn’t been here long. “For Vesper Bay” she hears him say, “Reckon this should cover.” Gil is exchanged and the man swings himself up on one of the chocobos, navigating it around her in a trot before disappearing through the gates at the other end of the village at higher speed.

She catches sight of the glare off a pair of red lenses, and for a moment her head reels like a lightning bolt has sliced its way into her skull. Foggy images assault her all at once, drowning out the nearby stone buildings and the noises of the chocobos as they gain clarity. There are tents crowded against the towering walls of the great city Ul’dah, packed full of sweaty bodies in ragged clothes from all corners of the realm. She is walking down Pearl Lane, head down, weaving through a river of faces, hands in pockets, one wrapped white knuckled around coin that wasn’t hers. She smells the familiar sea and fish smell of Limsa Lominsa’s lower docks, but right now it is new and strange. There’s a heavy wood and iron door in the white stone walls and a blonde roegadyn with an eyepatch looking down at her. Then very briefly, she feels a world and a time away, like she is holding onto the last vestiges of a dream when waking. There is a smile, bright blue eyes that are hers but aren’t. 

Ciel blinks, the blurred lines of Horizon’s buildings and the stark contrast of sun and shade re-asserting themselves into reality. She rubs her forehead and runs a hand through her hair, taking in a deep breath. The pain had vanished as quickly as it came. These episodes always arrived without warning. She scans the surrounding streets. People haul crates, do business under awnings. The chocobo carriage she rode in on is pulled off to the side, more crates and parcels being unloaded from the back. The rider has already disappeared into the dark tunnel at the gap in the cliff wall. 

When Ciel approaches the chocobokeep she can almost hear the lalafell smile behind their mask. “Can I interest you in a chocobo porter? Our fine birds are trained to take you to Vesper Bay, Ul’dah or the Silver Bazaar with the most direct route!” 

“Vesper Bay, please.” Ciel replies, “How much is the fare?” She adjusts her pack, quickly counting out a likely sum of gil. 

“Only 15 gil.” is the cheerful response. Ciel glances at her sum, her estimate a bit over. She hands it all over anyway, and the porter gives the coin a quick glance before pocketing it. Ciel waits as a tall yellow bird fitted with a simple but sturdy saddle is led to her. The handler fusses a bit over ensuring she is comfortable in the saddle and has a good grip on the reins. “She’ll do most of the work, so just enjoy the ride. Take care, now.” It still sounds like the porter is smiling. 

With a nudge she is off, the sun glinting off the blue crystal in the center of the village before she leaves cobblestone streets and the brown and grey and sand buildings with their crimson awnings behind. She is swallowed by the calm and cool shade of a passage that never bears the heat of the sun, the smell of the freshwater pools beyond carrying on the wind. 

[tmkutawrites]

A COMMON BOND - FREE SAMPLE!

This is a free sample of my debut lesbian romance novella, A Common Bond, which comes out November 7, 2023. Please enjoy :)

Note: There may/will be some typos in this sample. We like that, it confuses the Overlords of Zon so they don't strike me for contract infringement. I promise in the final, purchased version the typos have been fixed :)

Now, on with the sample!

RFI 1

To: Josie Basurto (May 3, 5:34PM)

From: Carneline Triana

Subject: Site Visit for Mobilization

Josie,

I will be on site with my management team most of Monday morning. I’m sure we will run into each other at some point.

Carneline

***

From: Josie Basurto (May 3, 5:39PM)

To: Carneline Triana

Subject: RE: Site Visit for Mobilization

Looking forward to it!

J

***

Carneline had known Clover Hill’s old town hall was in bad shape from the bid documents. On her walkthrough with Rio a few weeks ago, even more suspicions had been raised. But now, the disintegrating chunk of limestone that had fallen off the cornice and into her hand confirmed it: she was going to be spending a lot more time in Clover Hill than she had initially planned. “Jesus Christ.”

“I’ve never seen limestone this bad,” Bruno murmured. Oceanic’s chief masonry superintendent carefully set the piece of stone down on the scaffold. “This whole cornice is going to have to be checked.”

Checking the structural integrity of a city block’s worth of limestone was definitely not covered in their contract. Carneline chewed on the inside corner of her mouth as she ran a hand across the sugaring stone and watched millennia-old sand crumble into her palm. “Is this the only bad news?”

“Oh no,” Bruno said in a voice far too cheery for her liking as he pushed to his feet. “This mortar is definitely hot.”

Asbestos remediation was also definitely not in their contract.

She cast a desperate glance along the joints. “Are you sure?”

“Yup.” He pointed to an area where the mortar was exposed. “Look close. You can see the fibers.”

Carneline looked and, sure enough, there were the telltale threads amongst the cement, lime, and sand. Fuck. “Does Rio know?”

Bruno shook his head.

She snapped a couple of photos on her phone and turned for the scaffold stair. “Are xe still documenting in the lobby?”

“I think so.”

“Good. I’ll send xem up.”

The metal stairs squeaked as Carneline made her way down them, eyeing the brick and stone of the Romanesque Revival building with far more suspicion than before. The facade clearly hadn’t been washed in two decades. The window sills were covered in black atmospheric discoloration, and the blue-green haze of cupric staining streaked down major crevices. On the brick and stone walls, there were long stretches of jointing completely devoid of mortar and one of the brackets was missing entirely.

She stopped two decks down and took a moment to admire the town. This was Oceanic’s first project this far south. They mostly stuck to projects in Baymill, but her dad had wanted to expand into other markets, so here she was forty feet in the air above a town she could see the other side of from the scaffold. The five-story town hall towered over most of the rest of the buildings, but fit in perfectly amongst the clusters of various historic structures downtown. Its renovation was long overdue, but Carneline hoped Clover Hill would find it worth it in the end.

From her perch, she could see the expanse of the park, with its quaint little gazebo and beautifully kept grounds. A bit farther she spied the currently unlit marquee of an old movie theater and a neon sign belonging to local diner. It was a beautiful town, and as much as she could lean on the scaffold railing and look out over the little town covered in the fresh leaves of spring for hours, she had a job to do.

She tore herself away from the view and continued down the scaffold to the lobby. The first time she’d seen it, Carneline had been struck almost speechless by the beauty of its wrought iron doors, scagliola-clad pilasters, and massive crystal chandelier. Now it barely registered. She hurried through the plywood-covered lobby until she found her assistant project manager sprawled indelicately across the floor.

Rio was an acquired taste Carneline wasn’t quite sure she had acquired yet; mildly competent, incredibly anxious, and graced with the aggravating tendency to lose the plot at the slightest provocation. Still, xe tried, which was more than Carneline could say of half of Oceanic’s field staff.

“Good morning, Rio.”

Rio startled, and practically levitated off the floor in a cloud of dust almost definitely from the plaster demo. Xe was absolutely covered in the stuff, and Rio hurriedly stuffed xemself back into xyr gloves and sheepishly brushed down xyr front. “Good—good morning, Carneline. I—I didn’t know you were on site.”

“I was walking the cornice with Bruno.”

“Oh.”

“How is it going down here?”

Xe grimaced and gestured at the ground. “It’s—uh. The stone’s really cracked.”

Bits of torn painter’s tape crawled across the marble below them like blown blue cherry blossom petals. Carneline crouched, and Rio angled the beam of xyr flashlight so she could see the spidery lines coursing through. Great. “These are going to shatter the second Bruno tries to take them out.”

“That’s what he said, too.”

Another expensive change order for the growing pile, I suppose. She stood, dreading the prospect of the unending raft of paperwork in her future. “I’ll speak with the NCK team. Have you been up to the cornice yet?”

Rio shook xyr head.

“When you are done down here, I need you to go up and document everything before we touch it. Do you have your profile gauges with you?”

“They’re in my car.”

“Good. Bruno will be up there for a little bit. Find…” She hedged, thinking of the worn-down status of the cornice. “Find the least broken stone and take a profile.”

 Xe nodded. “Okay.”

“And wear an N95. The mortar is hot and everything up there is crumbling.”

Rio’s dark eyes got comically wide behind xyr safety glasses. “Oh shit.”

Her sentiments exactly. “Do you have any questions?” Xe shook xyr head again. “Alright. Call me if something comes up.”

“Will do!”

Carneline left Rio to xyr marble documentation and slipped out the west entrance to find the jobsite trailer. When she pulled the door open, she found Josie bent over the conference table—which was really just four folding tables pushed together in the center of the room—studying the reference drawings.

“Good morning,” she greeted as the door snapped shut behind her.

“Good morning,” Josie replied as she turned the page of the drawings. “Headed out? Help yourself to some coffee before you leave.”

Carneline startled at the kind, but unexpected offer. “Oh. Thank you.”

“To-go cups are on top of the fridge.”

“I actually don’t drink hot coffee,” she replied sheepishly.

“Don’t drink hot coffee?” Josie asked, looking up from her drawings with a grin that Carneline had discovered seemed permanently glued to her face. “Don’t tell me…you’re like Baylee and only drink cold brew.”

Carneline gave an awkward little laugh, not liking the familiarity with which Josie talked to her about her sister. People always did that, acted like they knew her because they knew her sister or father. Another one of the ‘perks’ of a family business. “Guilty as charged.”

 “Well, I’m one step ahead of you. There’s cold brew in the fridge.”

The offer was tempting. Carneline considered for a moment, but finally decided against it. If she got caught in traffic, which was likely considering the time, she would definitely have to stop and pee. “Not today. I have to drive back to Baymill after this, but thank you.”

“Any time.”

Josie finally straightened up fully and leaned casually on the white plastic folding table, hooking her thumbs into her jeans. She was an unreasonably attractive figure, taller than Carneline, with kind brown eyes and a sharp fade that put every short-haired worker on the site to shame. In some universe she might have been Carneline’s type—if Josie hadn’t worked for the general contractor paying them to fix Clover Hill’s historic town hall.

Carneline hedged. “I…actually wanted to talk to you about something.”

Josie’s voice remained impressively neutral. “Oh?”

“Yes…” She pulled her phone out of her pocket. “We have some problems.”

“Define ‘problems.’”

“That depends, do you want the least expensive issue or most expensive issue first?”

“Least expensive.” Josie flashed a luminous smile. “Warm me up.”

Carneline pulled up the photos she had taken of the floor and passed her phone over for her to see. “The marble in the foyer is full of cracks. It’s going to shatter when we try to take it out.”

“Architects were ridiculous to think we could salvage the whole floor,” Josie said with a disbelieving scoff. “A-hundred-and-twenty-year-old marble doesn’t come up like that.”

“No, it does not,” Carneline confirmed.

Josie handed her phone back, her face suddenly all business. The shift was jarring, to say the least. “How much is this going to cost?”

“I can’t say for certain, but it will be a decent amount.”

Josie sighed. “Great. You submitted replacement marble, right?”

“A few weeks ago.”

Josie ran a hand through her hair. “Submit an RFI and we’ll see what the architects have to say.”

“Was planning to.”

“Thanks.” She took a sip from a nearby thermos. “What’s the bigger, badder bill?”

Carneline gave Josie a significant look. “Have you been up to the cornice?”

“Recently?”

“Yes.”

“I walked it at the beginning,” she replied with a frown. “Is there something wrong with it?”

If only. “The mortar’s full of asbestos and the stone is crumbling. A piece fell off in my hand.”

Josie inhaled in shock. “Oh fuck.”

“I don’t want anyone from my crew touching it until the town knows.”

 “Understandable. Do you think it’s going to need to be replaced?”

Carneline glanced around the trailer to make sure they were alone. “Off the record, I think you might want to figure out where Clover Hill has a million dollars stashed for a rainy day.”

 “It’s that bad?”

“The building is a hundred and twenty years old,” she said with a shrug. “I’m surprised it lasted this long.”

Josie’s face went grim. “Got it. Thanks for the heads up.”

“Not a problem.” She hesitated, not sure if Josie could handle a third thing on her plate. “There is…one more thing?”

“If there’s a massive structural issue that means we need to evacuate the building, please turn around and leave now,” Josie joked weakly. “Let me die in the collapsed building in peaceful ignorance.”

Carneline gave a dismissive snort. “Nothing so drastic.”

Josie brightened considerably. “Great! What’s up?”

“You need to have someone go into the main hall and put down sweeping compound. Rio’s rolling around on the floor in there looking like the Ghost of Christmas Past. To say nothing of the silica hazard.”

Josie was already grabbing her hard hat off the table. “I’ll do it myself.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

“See you then!” Josie trotted off out the door, Carneline close behind her.

She checked her watch: three-o’clock.  Plenty of time to make it back to the city without hitting traffic. She pulled her hard hat off the second she hit the parking lot, shaking her curly red hair out so she could tie it back up once in the car. She’d get out of town, update her dad on the way home, then spend a quiet night with her plants before she had to go to bed.

Her phone rang. The song barely got four notes in before she picked up. “You’re psychic. I was just about to call you.”

“Are you done at Clover Hill?” Warren Triana asked gruffly.

“About to head home now, just have to throw my stuff in the ba—” She stopped dead a few paces from her trunk, eyes taking in the noticeable sink to her right rear bumper. “Fuck.”

Her father’s business tone instantly switched to fatherly concern. “What? What is it?”

She scowled and threw her hard hat in the back a tad more aggressively than was necessary. “It’s nothing,” she sighed. “I just have a flat.”

[END RFI 1]

Did you like this sample? If yes please consider buying my novella? You can preorder A Common Bond HERE!

[drustvar]

Ch. 18: Shrouded Eyes

The path to the Coliseum is fraught with danger, at least, in Rosie's eyes. Those who would wish her beloved harm surely lurk in every shadow, don't they?

WC: 1.4k + A/N: Took a little break but I think I'm ready to kick it back into high gear! Had some fun with the little bits of Rosie's paranoia and hinting at some very old magic possibly being connected to the Coliseum ;) Ao3 link in reblog || full text under cut

Vesuvia’s coliseum was once one of the city’s defining features. It had been a public hub for both the rich and the poor: bartering outside its gates in makeshift stalls and crowding into the seats, eager to watch bloodsport. But now it sat empty; no more cheering crowds, no more fights. Only sand and dust whistling through the cracks of crumbling stone walls.

Rosie couldn’t recall ever watching one of the gladiator fights. In truth, they had been falling out of fashion ever since the Countess had married and moved to Vesuvia; seemingly one of the few social reforms she had been able to encourage. Then of course the plague came, and everyone was too preoccupied with trying not to die to have time to watch oiled, scantily clad men try to kill each other. Gladiators stopped renewing their contracts, and without prisoners of war or any kind of organized crime watch, Count Lucio had been unable to refill his roster of fighters. Although it had been abandoned for years, the sight of it filled Rosie with a sense of terrible dread, as though the dangers that it once housed were still lurking in its walls; she brushed off the feeling as being her own anxiousness about Julian making no effort to hide his identity as they made their way to the coliseum. 

“You should have kept that mask from the theater,” Rosie hissed as she pulled Julian into the shadow of a building as a pair of wealthy looking merchants ambled past, chatting amongst themselves about various wealthy frivolities as they turned down the main road that led to the floating markets. 

“Are you still worried about that, my dear?” 

“You’d be a fool not to be,” She said as she peered out of the shadows. She was sure she had seen freshly polished insignias bearing Lucio’s likeness pinned to the merchant’s robes. Ever since the masquerade had been announced it seemed more and more loyalists were coming out of the woodwork. “We’re a long way from South End,” she murmured as she took his hand and continued on, still staying within the shadows of buildings and pillars that lined the road. 

“Ah, I understand your worry completely. But look around,” he swept his arms out and stepped back into the sunlight. “See? Nobody’s around.” “There just were,” Rosie hissed as she looked up and down the street. “They were  just using a shortcut. And uh, well it’s rude to gossip but, well these empty buildings are a good place to sneak off to for…any number of activities,” he said with a grin that Rosie did not return. “How can you be so sure they’re empty?” “Oh, well I’ll show you!” Rosie didn’t have time to stop him before he had leapt onto the crumbling wall outside one of the abandoned huts. 

“Oh, yoooohooo! Anyone home? Anyone at all?” He waved his arms and called in an exaggerated voice. Rosie hissed and grabbed for him, but he laughed and easily sidestepped her hands. “Ah, looks like nobody’s home-” his grin dropped when he saw how her eyes darted around and her hands clutched her amulet. He made a worried sound as he nimbly stepped down off the wall. “Rosie,” he gently pried her hands free of her amulet and held them. “I’m sorry. I was only trying to lighten the mood.”

Rosie just shook her head and sighed as he pulled her close enough that her forehead rested against his chest. She didn’t want to think about what could have happened if the stalls along the street hadn’t been abandoned. How anybody squatting there would be stupid to not try and turn Julian in; surely the bounty on his head was enough to live comfortably for many years on. “Let’s just keep movin’,” she said. “The sooner we track down this ‘Scourge’ the better.”

|| The arena was empty, just as it had been for years. ‘If there’s a Scourge here, the only thing he’s fighting is ghosts ,’ Rosie thought as she scanned the dusty rows of benches. A breeze occasionally swirled the sand into small torrents around their feet. 

“Right,” she said, her hands planted on her hips. “This market’s underground, yeah? There a trapdoor buried here somewhere?” She asked as she pawed at the ground with the toe of her boot.

“Oh no, the Red Market Merchant’s Guild was more sophisticated than that,” Julian said as he strode past her to the northernmost wall. “The lock was a puzzle of sorts. Some kind of identity magic…I’m sure that’s how Asra managed to sneak in,” he said as he began to run his fingers over the bricks set between two of the columns. 

“Was it two to the left? Or three to the left,” Julian muttered. “Ah, give me just another moment dear, I’ll have this open in a jiffy,” he said as he felt Rosie press close against his side. She nodded as she cast a wary glance over her shoulder. Although the arena was empty, she was sure the eyes of all those slain in its sands were surely watching them; she regretted not packing an extra pouch of salt. 

“No, no it was three to the right, two to the left, and then up and down, yes that was it! Stand back now, dear, it was always a little messy. Used to throw sand and stray shrapnel everywhere.” The pair stepped back and waited — nothing happened.

“...Did you break it?” Rosie asked. “Surely not! Don’t even know if it can be broken,” Julian shook his head and began to examine the wall again. “Did they take me off the VIP list?” 

Rosie turned away as he continued to fiddle with the bricks in the wall. An energy thrummed beneath her feet that she couldn't ignore any longer; wild and erratic, the same way a busy marketplace felt. 'It has to lead to the underground, it's gotta be some kind of spell signature...magical residue,' she thought. The sand was warm and soft between her fingers as she dropped to the ground and pressed her palms flat and felt around for the pulse. "Uh, Rosie?" Julian had glanced back to find her on her hands and knees, feeling around in the dirt. Rosie tuned him out as she centered herself and tried to follow the energy’s trail in her mind’s eye.  She crawled forward as she followed the trail, which faintly glowed as she shut her eyes. The edges of the darkness took on a red tinge as she drew closer and closer. 

“Where are you going?” Julian’s voice sounded faint, despite being just a few steps away. “Is this a magic thing? Are you doing a magic thing, Rosie? Dear? Hello?” 

The red in her mind’s eye was almost blinding as she reached the trail head. Her eyes snapped open and she began to frantically dig in the sand, until her fingers brushed against something cold. She brushed the remaining sand away and stared down at what she had uncovered: a circular iron hatch, barely two arm lengths in diameter. There were strange runes carved along its rim; for just a moment it seemed as if they were glowing the same red as the magic that led her there. She told herself it was merely a trick of the light.

“Well I’ll be,” Julian had followed close behind her. “Brava, Rosie.  A trapdoor, just like you’d thought! Hidden by some magic I assume?” 

“Something like that,” Rosie shrugged as she took his hand and got to her feet, brushing the sand off her skirt. There was something very old and very dark about the magic that emanated from the hatch that was deeply unsettling; but she had faith that Asra wouldn’t have sent her into danger. At least, not on purpose. She fiddled with her amulet as she watched Julian pull the hatch open. Just below the surface was an old, rickety looking ladder that descended into a seemingly endless darkness. 

“Well, uh,” Julian rocked back on his heels as he stared down into the hole. “Are you ready?”

‘No ,’ Rosie thought. ‘ What I’m ready to do is go home and hide away from all of this. Maybe the two of us pack our bags and skip town, start a new life and try to forget we were ever in this mess .’  But she knew that wasn’t an option. If the two of them were ever going to be free, they needed answers. “Aye,” she murmured as she brushed her thumb over the face of her amulet. 

“Then uh, down the rabbit hole we go,” He said as he started down the ladder. Rosie gave one last glance at the empty coliseum before she followed after him and pulled the hatch shut behind them. 

And just like that, the coliseum stood empty and silent once more.

[madhavmarblesandgranites]

India’s Top 10 Most Popular Granite Colors for 2024

Granite has long been a staple in both residential and commercial spaces, prized for its durability, timeless elegance, and natural beauty. With a wide range of granite colors available, selecting the right one can transform your space into a sophisticated haven. As we move into 2024, certain granite colors are dominating the market in India, each offering unique benefits for your home or business. In this blog, we will explore the top 10 granite colors in India for 2024, helping you make an informed decision when choosing the perfect granite stone for your next project.

1. New Kashmir Cream Granite

New Kashmir Cream granite features a stunning cream-colored base with grey and light pink streaks, creating an exquisite marble-like effect. Known for its high-quality granite colors in India, this stone is ideal for kitchen countertops, restroom vanity tops, and wall cladding. The durable, stain-resistant surface makes it easy to maintain, while its elegance enhances both modern and traditional interiors.

2. Kashmir Cream Granite

Kashmir Cream granite is another popular choice, offering a soft, sand-like appearance with peach-colored waves and dark grey granules. It’s versatile and durable, making it suitable for both indoor and outdoor applications such as countertops, backsplashes, staircases, and even landscaping. This granite stone has a beautiful flow of natural shades, adding character to any space.

3. Absolute Black Granite

For those who prefer bold and striking contrasts, Absolute Black granite is the go-to option. This stone features a dense, consistent black texture, with subtle design elements that exude class and elegance. It’s incredibly durable and capable of taking a fine finish, making it ideal for kitchen countertops, vanity tops, flooring, and wall cladding. The sophisticated look of Absolute Black Granite is often used in high-end commercial spaces, as well as residential interiors.

4. River White Granite

River White granite stands out with its creamy white background, accentuated by graceful gray veining and burgundy specks. It offers a fresh and inviting look, making it a top choice for kitchen countertops, backsplashes, and flooring. The versatility of River White granite ensures it pairs well with both light and dark-colored cabinetry, creating a harmonious balance in any kitchen or restroom.

5. Himalayan Blue Granite

With its captivating light blue hue and dynamic orange swirls, Himalayan Blue granite creates a luxurious and opulent feel. This granite is not only beautiful but also boasts qualities such as stain resistance, low porosity, and extreme durability, making it perfect for both residential and commercial projects. Use it for kitchen countertops, fireplace surrounds, tabletops, or even for landscaping and outdoor sculptures.

6. Ivory Brown Granite

Ivory Brown granite offers a unique beige base with reddish-brown streaks, giving it a luxurious and exclusive appeal. This stone is perfect for high-end interior designs, including kitchen countertops, flooring, and wall applications. Granite stone colors like Ivory Brown offer a neutral yet stylish addition to any space, blending seamlessly with a variety of interior design themes.

7. Multicolor Red Granite

For those seeking bold and dramatic granite, Multicolor Granite offers a stunning red base with black specks and grey swirls. It is a favorite in India for both residential and commercial applications, especially for use in kitchen countertops, vanity tops, and wall cladding. Its high durability and ability to take various finishes make it an ideal choice for creating standout spaces that draw attention.

8. Parana Bordeaux Granite

Parana Bordeaux granite combines a creamish golden background with deep red and maroon swirls, creating a rich, elegant visual effect. This stone is highly versatile, perfect for both indoor and outdoor use. It is commonly used for kitchen countertops, fireplace surrounds, and outdoor wall cladding. Its resistance to stains and moisture, coupled with its resilience against harsh weather conditions, ensures long-lasting beauty.

9. Coffee Brown Granite

Coffee Brown granite features a deep brown background with subtle coffee and chocolate hues throughout. Known for its scratch resistance and timeless appeal, this granite is perfect for both commercial and residential projects. It is commonly used for countertops, flooring, and wall cladding. The granite colors in this stone offer a warm and inviting atmosphere to any space.

10. Black Galaxy Granite

Black Galaxy granite is one of the most sought-after granite colors for high-end projects. The black background, speckled with small gold or white flecks, provides a dazzling effect when it catches the light. This granite is incredibly versatile, making it a popular choice for countertops, vanity tops, backsplashes, and even outdoor applications. Its durability and aesthetic appeal have made it a favorite in both India and internationally.

Commonly Asked Questions about Granite Colors

Q1) Which color of granite is best?

The best granite color depends on your personal style and the overall look you want to achieve. For timeless elegance, stones like Absolute Black Granite and River White Granite are popular choices. If you’re looking for a bold and vibrant appearance, stones like Multicolor Red Granite or Himalayan Blue Granite make an impactful statement.

Q2) What color granite is popular now?

In 2024, lighter shades like New Kashmir Cream Granite and River White Granite are gaining popularity for their clean and bright appearance. However, darker tones such as Absolute Black Granite and Black Galaxy Granite remain timeless choices for their sophistication and durability.

Q3) What is the most popular granite color in 2024?

Currently, Kashmir Cream Granite is one of the most popular granite colors in India. It offers versatility, timeless elegance, and a soft aesthetic that appeals to homeowners and interior designers alike.

Q4) What color granite is most expensive?

Typically, granite stones with rarer colors or those that require more intricate processing, such as Himalayan Blue Granite or Black Galaxy Granite, can be more expensive. The price of granite can vary based on factors like extraction location and finishing techniques.

Conclusion

Choosing the right granite color for your next project can dramatically enhance the aesthetic and functionality of your space. From the subtle elegance of Kashmir Cream Granite to the bold beauty of Absolute Black Granite, each stone offers unique characteristics that cater to various tastes and needs. When selecting a granite, consider the stone’s durability, maintenance needs, and how it complements your existing décor.

If you’re looking for high-quality granite stone colors in India, Madhav Marble & Granite Ltd. offers an extensive range of premium granite slabs and tiles to fit every style and budget. Ready to transform your space? Get in touch with us today to explore our collection and take the first step towards creating the perfect environment.

[rajstoneandtiles]

Elevate your space with our exceptional marble solutions in Sydney. Choose from a range of exquisite options for a touch of timeless elegance.

[kingsresearchinfo]

Fiber Cement Market Analysis by Top Key players - James Hardie Industries plc, Etex Group, Cembrit Holding A/S

Kings Research published a new report on Fiber Cement Market Global Industry Size, Share, Growth, Industry Trends & Forecast 2031, covering various industry elements and growth trends helpful for predicting the industry future. Fiber Cement Market size was valued at USD 11.22 billion in 2022 and is projected to reach USD 21.48 billion by 2030, growing at a CAGR of 8.61% from 2023 to 2030.

Companies in Fiber Cement Market

James Hardie Industries plc

Etex Group

Cembrit Holding A/S

Nichiha Corporation

Everest Industries Limited

Allura USA

Elementia, S.A.B. de C.V.

Mahaphant Fiber Cement Public Company Limited

GAF Materials Corporation

CSR Limited

Browse Full Information @ https://www.kingsresearch.com/fiber-cement-market-398

Market Synopsis

Fiber cement, also known as reinforced fiber cement, is a composite building material used in construction. It is mainly composed of Portland cement, fine silica (sand), cellulosic material, and other additives. Fiber cement is a low-cost composite material and provides resistance to fungi, mold, and bacteria, increasing its durability. Furthermore, the material is inert and, hence, can directly be dumped in landfills without causing harm to the environment.

Fiber cement products include boards, panels, and siding and are widely used in the construction of residential and commercial buildings due to their fire and impact-resistant properties. Fiber cement panels are used for exterior wall cladding, partition walls, ceilings, and decorative applications.

By Region

North America: Market growth is driven by the strict environmental regulations, presence of numerous players in this region. US account for largest market share in the region.

Europe: The rising demand for eco-friendly materials for use in building construction is high. Moreover, the growth of energy-efficient buildings, growing construction activities, infrastructure and residential development is driving the market growth in Europe.

Asia-Pacific: Asia-Pacific is estimated to be the largest fiber cement market during the forecast period. 

South America: The growing demand is due to the rise in industrialization and increasing government investments in major countries.

Middle East & Africa: The increase in construction activities in the residential and non-residential sectors and the rising level of support provided to the construction industry by the government of various countries in the Middle East are driving the demand for construction materials, including fiber cement boards.

Browse Full Report Details @ https://www.kingsresearch.com/fiber-cement-market-398

In addition to environmental benefits, fiber cement’s versatility in design and application is a significant driver of its market growth. The material can mimic the appearance of wood, stone, and other natural materials, providing architects and designers with a wide range of aesthetic options. This versatility allows for creative and innovative architectural designs, enhancing the appeal of fiber cement in various construction projects.

The future of the fiber cement market looks promising, with continued growth expected across all segments. Residential construction is anticipated to remain a key driver, supported by the ongoing demand for sustainable and durable building materials. Commercial and industrial applications will also contribute to the market expansion, driven by the need for high-performance materials in demanding environments.

Technological advancements and product innovations will play a pivotal role in shaping the market dynamics. The development of advanced manufacturing processes and the introduction of new product variants will enhance the competitiveness of fiber cement products. Additionally, increasing awareness about the benefits of fiber cement and its alignment with sustainable construction practices will further boost market growth.

Contact Us:

Kings Research

Website: https://www.kingsresearch.com

E-mail: business@kingsresearch.com

Phone: (+1) 888 328 2189

[intraautomation49]

Establishing a Plant to Produce Fiber Cement Boards

As the construction industry embraces sustainability and innovation, fiber cement boards have emerged as a leading building material that combines durability, versatility, and eco-friendliness. Establishing a dedicated plant to produce fiber cement boards represents a significant opportunity to meet the growing demand for high-quality building materials. This article explores the importance of fiber cement boards, the manufacturing process, and the advantages of setting up a production facility.

Understanding Fiber Cement Boards

Fiber cement boards are composite building materials made from a mixture of cement, cellulose fibers, and sand. This combination results in a robust, non-combustible material that is resistant to moisture, pests, and rot. Fiber cement boards can be used in a variety of applications, including exterior cladding, roofing, and interior wall panels, making them a versatile choice for builders and architects.

The Manufacturing Process

The production of fiber cement boards involves several essential steps:

Raw Material PreparationThe process begins with sourcing high-quality raw materials. Cement, cellulose fibers (often sourced from recycled paper), and silica sand are combined to create the core mixture for the boards.

MixingThe raw materials are carefully mixed in precise ratios to ensure uniformity. The mixing process may involve the addition of water and other additives to enhance specific properties, such as flexibility or durability.

FormingOnce mixed, the slurry is poured into molds to form boards of desired sizes and thicknesses. This step can be adjusted based on market requirements, allowing for customization in product offerings.

PressingThe formed boards are then subjected to high pressure to remove excess moisture and compact the mixture. This step is crucial for achieving the desired density and strength of the final product.

CuringAfter pressing, the boards undergo a curing process, where they are allowed to dry and harden. This can be done naturally or in controlled environments to accelerate the curing time.

FinishingOnce cured, the boards are trimmed and sanded to achieve a smooth surface. They may also undergo additional treatments, such as painting or coating, to enhance their aesthetic appeal and performance.

Quality ControlRigorous quality control measures are implemented throughout the manufacturing process to ensure that the boards meet industry standards for strength, durability, and safety.

Advantages of Fiber Cement Boards

DurabilityFiber cement boards are highly resistant to weathering, rot, and pests, making them ideal for both residential and commercial applications.

Fire ResistanceBeing made primarily from cement, fiber cement boards are non-combustible and provide excellent fire resistance. This feature enhances safety in building construction and can potentially lower insurance costs.

Moisture ResistanceFiber cement boards resist moisture absorption, preventing issues such as mold and mildew. This property is especially beneficial in humid climates or areas prone to heavy rainfall.

SustainabilityWith a significant portion of their composition coming from recycled materials, fiber cement boards are an eco-friendly choice. Their production process can also be optimized to minimize waste and energy consumption.

Aesthetic FlexibilityFiber cement boards can be manufactured in various colors, textures, and finishes, allowing for design versatility. They can mimic the appearance of wood, stone, or other materials, making them suitable for a wide range of architectural styles.

Low MaintenanceUnlike traditional materials, fiber cement boards require minimal maintenance. Their durability and resistance to environmental factors mean they do not need regular painting or sealing, saving time and resources.

The Business Opportunity

Establishing a plant to produce fiber cement boards offers significant business potential. The global demand for sustainable building materials is on the rise, driven by increased awareness of environmental issues and a shift toward greener construction practices. A dedicated production facility can cater to this demand, providing builders and contractors with high-quality, reliable products.

Additionally, the growing trend of urbanization and infrastructure development in emerging markets creates further opportunities for fiber cement boards. By positioning the plant strategically and leveraging local resources, manufacturers can capitalize on these trends while contributing to sustainable building practices.

Conclusion

The establishment of a plant to produce fiber cement boards represents a forward-thinking investment in the future of construction materials. With their numerous advantages—durability, fire resistance, moisture resistance, and sustainability—fiber cement boards are poised to become a cornerstone of modern building practices. As the industry evolves, this innovative material will play a crucial role in meeting the challenges of sustainable construction, making it an ideal choice for both manufacturers and builders alike.

[interiors-140]

Transform Your Space: How WPC Can Elevate Your Interior Design

When it comes to interior design, the materials you choose can significantly impact your space's ambiance, durability, and functionality. One material that has been making waves in recent years is Wood Plastic Composite (WPC). Versatile, sustainable, and aesthetically appealing, WPC can elevate any interior with its natural beauty and modern technology. If you want to transform your space, here’s why WPC should be your go-to choice.

What is WPC?

WPC, or Wood Plastic Composite, is a hybrid material made from wood fibers and thermoplastics. This combination gives WPC the natural look of wood but with the added strength and durability of plastic. Unlike traditional wood, WPC is resistant to moisture, termites, and rot, making it an excellent option for high-traffic areas or spaces prone to humidity, like kitchens, bathrooms, and basements.

1. Durability Meets Aesthetic Appeal

One of the biggest reasons WPC is gaining popularity in interior design is its remarkable durability. It doesn't warp, crack, or splinter like traditional wood, which means it will maintain its appearance for years to come. Whether used for flooring, wall paneling, or furniture, WPC provides a timeless look without the high maintenance that comes with natural wood.

In terms of design, WPC is available in a variety of finishes and colors that can replicate the grain and texture of real wood, stone, or even marble. This allows you to customize your space to fit any design style—whether you're aiming for a rustic, modern, or industrial aesthetic.

2. Eco-Friendly and Sustainable

For the environmentally conscious homeowner or business, WPC is an excellent choice. Made from recycled wood fibers and plastic, WPC reduces the demand for natural wood, helping to conserve forests. Plus, it’s fully recyclable, which adds to its eco-friendly credentials. By choosing WPC for your interior design, you’re not only transforming your space but also contributing to a more sustainable planet.

3. Moisture and Termite Resistant

One of the major challenges with traditional wood in interiors is its vulnerability to water and pests. Wood can warp or rot when exposed to moisture, and it’s often susceptible to termite damage. WPC, on the other hand, is engineered to resist both. This makes it an ideal material for areas exposed to moisture, such as kitchens, bathrooms, and even outdoor spaces that connect to the interior, like sunrooms and patios.

4. Low Maintenance

Compared to other materials, WPC is incredibly low-maintenance. It doesn’t require regular sanding, sealing, or painting to keep it looking fresh. A simple wipe-down with a damp cloth is usually enough to keep WPC surfaces clean. This makes it an appealing option for busy homeowners or commercial spaces where maintaining materials can be time-consuming.

5. Versatile Applications in Interior Design

WPC can be used in a wide range of interior applications, giving you endless possibilities to create a cohesive and stylish look throughout your space:

Flooring: WPC flooring is durable, slip-resistant, and comfortable underfoot, making it perfect for homes with children or pets. It also provides sound insulation, making it ideal for spaces like home offices or apartments.

Wall Cladding: Add texture and warmth to your walls with WPC cladding. It can be used to create feature walls, accent backdrops, or even entire room installations to add depth and character to your interiors.

Furniture: WPC is also making its way into furniture design. From sleek dining tables to custom cabinets, WPC can be molded into various shapes and finishes, giving designers the flexibility to create bespoke pieces that stand out.

6. Cost-Effective Solution

While WPC offers the aesthetic and durability benefits of natural wood and stone, it comes at a more affordable price. Its longevity and low maintenance costs make it a cost-effective solution in the long run, especially for homeowners or business owners looking to invest in high-quality, long-lasting materials.

Final Thoughts

Transforming your interior doesn’t always require a complete renovation; sometimes, it’s the material choices that make all the difference. WPC offers the perfect blend of style, strength, and sustainability, making it a smart choice for any space. Whether you’re looking to refresh your floors, create a feature wall, or invest in long-lasting furniture, WPC provides the flexibility and durability to meet your design goals.By incorporating WPC into your interior design, you can create a modern, elegant, and functional space that stands the test of time—both in appearance and performance. Choosing the Right Material at Your Choice Interior PVC & WPC.

[exportimportdata13]

A Comprehensive Guide to Indian Granite Exports: Trends, Key Players, and Future Outlook

India is a global leader in granite exports, renowned for its vast array of natural stone products. The country's granite industry, valued at ₹25,000 crore, has established itself as a key player in the global market, supplying high-quality granite to various countries worldwide. In this blog, we will delve into the current trends in Indian granite exports, the top players in the industry, the most demanded types of granite, and the future outlook for this thriving sector.

Overview of Indian Granite Exports

India has long been recognized as one of the top producers and exporters of granite globally. In 2023, Indian granite exports amounted to an impressive 55,914 shipments, positioning the country as the world’s leading granite exporter. Indian granite is known for its durability, natural beauty, and cost-effectiveness, making it a preferred choice for architects, builders, and homeowners around the globe.

India's Dominance in the Global Market

According to export data, India accounts for a significant portion of the global granite market, with $718 million worth of exports. Other key exporters include Brazil ($173 million), Norway ($131 million), Angola ($113 million), and Spain ($79.5 million). Indian granite is in high demand in countries like China, Japan, and France, further solidifying India's position as a global leader in the granite industry.

Major Export Destinations

The primary markets for Indian granite are China, Japan, and France. The United States also plays a significant role, accounting for over 20% of India's granite exports. Indian granite is used for various applications, including memorials, wall cladding, flooring, and kitchen countertops. As the global construction industry continues to grow, so does the demand for Indian granite.

Key Granite Exporters in India

India boasts a rich list of top granite exporters who are known for their ability to meet global demand while maintaining quality standards. Some of the leading granite exporters in India include:

RK Marbles

Italian Marbles

Amit Marbles

Aditya Stonex

BVL Granites

Aravali Marbles & Granites

Ritani Global Private Limited

Madhav Marble & Granites Ltd

Classic Marble Company

Mumal Marbles

These companies have made a name for themselves by consistently delivering high-quality granite and maintaining reliable supply chains. Additionally, many of these companies are investing in modern technology to enhance product quality and reduce their environmental impact, making Indian granite a sustainable choice.

Popular Types of Granite Exported from India

Indian granite comes in a variety of colors and patterns, each with its unique appeal. Among the most popular types of granite exported from India are:

Kashmir White Granite: Known for its subtle white and gray hues, Kashmir White Granite is a popular choice for countertops and flooring.

Black Galaxy Granite: This striking black granite with gold specks is commonly used for kitchen countertops and luxury interiors.

Red Multicolor Granite: This vibrant red granite is often used for flooring and wall cladding, adding a touch of boldness to any space.

Other notable types include Absolute Black Granite and Tan Brown Granite, which are widely used in both residential and commercial projects.

Granite Export Data and HS Codes

Granite exports from India are classified under specific HS (Harmonized System) codes. The top three HS codes for granite exports from India are:

HS Code 68022390: Polished, monumental, or building stone of granite, including slabs and countertops.

HS Code 68022310: Granite that is polished, honed, sanded, or rustic but not further worked.

HS Code 25161100: Granite in slabs exceeding 2 cm in thickness, typically used for large-scale construction projects.

These HS codes help standardize the export of granite and ensure that buyers and sellers are on the same page regarding product specifications.

Market Trends and Opportunities

The Indian granite industry is poised for growth, with several emerging markets offering new opportunities for exporters. Beyond traditional markets like the United States and China, there is increasing demand for Indian granite in Southeast Asia, the Middle East, and Africa. These regions are experiencing rapid growth in the construction industry, which in turn drives the demand for natural stone.

Competitive Advantages of Indian Granite

One of the key factors driving the success of Indian granite in global markets is its affordability. Compared to granite from other countries like Italy and Brazil, Indian granite is more cost-effective while maintaining high quality. This makes it an attractive option for large-scale construction projects and smaller home renovations alike.

Future Outlook for Indian Granite Exports

The future of the Indian granite industry looks bright, with a projected compound annual growth rate (CAGR) of 2.3% globally. By 2032, the global granite market is expected to surpass $23.3 billion. In India, demand for granite is expected to grow by 4.1% annually.

Government Initiatives and Industry Investments

The Indian government is taking several initiatives to boost the granite industry, particularly through the "Make in India" campaign, which aims to promote Indian products on a global scale. Additionally, granite exporters are investing in advanced machinery and technology to improve production efficiency and reduce environmental impact, further enhancing the competitiveness of Indian granite in global markets.

Conclusion

India's granite industry is thriving, and the future looks promising for both exporters and buyers. With its wide variety of high-quality natural stones, affordable prices, and increasing global demand, India is set to maintain its position as a top granite exporter. For those looking to explore opportunities in the granite market or find a list of top Indian granite exporters, platforms like ExportImportData.in offer valuable insights and up-to-date data.

As the global demand for natural stone continues to grow, Indian granite will remain a highly favored material for architects, builders, and homeowners alike, ensuring a bright future for the industry.

[moonyasnow]

Li donia Fawq

—Act 1, Scene 1— [ Chapters list ]

Landing

OC(S) : Artemisia OTHER CHARACTER(S) : Jamil, Kalim

OC x TWST : Artemil 🐍x🦢

TYPE : Fic (~4.9k words)

After their fateful meeting, the Servant introduced himself to the Lady, and bid her stay the night at an inn, and he would come fetch her to escort her to her destination come morning...

Touching down amidst the soft white fabric of her feathered bed, fatigue weighted her body down like lead and coaxed her into a deep sleep she would not be woken from until forced back to the world of the living, remaining untouched even by the minaret...

-Artemisia-

The sun boiled high in the heavens, glaring down oppressively, its rays battering down against the modest shade her cloak provided her. The tiny openings at the bottom of the gauzy black cloth covering her eyes letting in slivers of light made her squint. She was at least grateful to have escaped the chatter in the streets which had boomed in her head, grating like cicadas chirping, bees buzzing and seagulls squawking right beside her ear all at once. Taking a deep breath in to relieve the headache and nausea she was not met with the cold and crisp air her body, seemingly ignoring the glaring presence of unfamiliar sensations all around, had expected. No, it was hot and dry.

"We're here."

"Oh—" She forced her feet to stop as he spoke, having entirely forgotten about the person she'd been following at the

Glancing up, she saw what appeared to her as a great palace. Yet oddly colorful, when compared to the silver stone and glass and iron lattice windows she was used to. The stone beneath her feet was a bright, glaring yellow that seemed to burn her eyes the longer she looked at it. Turning her gaze skyward instead, she saw three great domes, turquoise and clad in gold. In her mind she saw an image of one of her sister's perfume bottles, recalling the familiar shape.

The color of the sky surrounding it was less crisp than the cold blue of the winter sky she was used to, as though the sands had splattered a bit of its own color into the sky of the southern lands.

"Is this the Al-Asim manor?"

"It is."

She kept watching it. The only similarities found between this and the castle in which she spent her youth were towers and white walls. There were a few people here and there- someone tending to the soil of one of the large palm trees on either side of the walkway, another sweeping the golden path.

The doors leading into the structure were big and made seemingly of gold, exquisitely detailed and fashioned into a shape she thought she might have seen in an old fairy tale.

"We'll take a side entrance."

"Okay."

But suddenly, before they could reach whatever side-door he had them en-route to, one of those big, golden doors had begun to creak open. Through the opening she saw a young man with silvery hair, clad in white and a turquoise matching the domes pushing open the door. He peeked out of the golden port, and when he looked in their direction, his face lit up into a beaming smile.

"Jamiiiiiiiil!" he waved with one arm, forgetting he was using it to hold the door open and having to quickly shift to stand in a more stable position and hold it with his body.

Beside her, Jamil had tensed as the door was about to fall, and then merely sighed.

The boy had begun to jog over to them. Instinctively, Artemisia hunched up her shoulders and hid behind the one she followed.

"Hey, Jamil! Where'd you go earlier? I was trying to look for you but you—" Her skin prickled. He was looking at her. She closed her eyes and groaned internally.

"Who's this, Jamil? A new friend? Hi! I'm Kalim! It's very nice to meet you, and welcome to my family's home!" ''Jamil'…is that his name? Although there does exist the possibility of it being some form of adress…' she glanced briefly at him from the side. Her stomach fluttered. 'Yet if it is is his name, it is beautiful…' He tried walking closer to shake her hand. But she backed up, mouth having firmly shut of its own volition.

"What's your name? Oh, are you hungry? it's nearly lunch-time and—"

"Kalim."

"Yes, Jamil?"

"You're right; it's nearly lunch-time. I'll make something for you."

The energetic boy's eyes widened at the language he spoke, before his grin returned. "That sounds— that sounds great!" He turned to her again "Hey, you'll join us for lunch, won't you? Jamil's cooking is the best!"

Jamil just sighed quietly nearby.

"I suppose I could..." She spoke in a quiet voice, the loudest she could make her voice in that moment.

"Great!"

The word invaded her earls shrilly.

"Come on, I've just gotta give you a tour while Jamil makes the food! Oh, I'm Kalim by the way! What's your name?"

Shoulders squared and tense with an arm held across her torso as though a makeshift shield, she took up the fabric of her skirt with the other and slid into an unpracticed curtsy. "I am Artemisia…"

"Nice to meet you, Artemisia!" He forwent trying to grab her hand or wrist to drag her off, instead giving her a light push to her back and taking her away to go see the manor. For a second her gaze sought out Jamil to silently plead for help— though he was already gone.

"Where did…?"

"Hm? Where did who what?"

"...Jamil." The name, spoken from her lips for the first time, rang strangely fondly in ears.

"Oh, he's probably making lunch! Now come on, I gotta show you around the place! Oh, will you be staying—"

The boisterous boy's voice for just a moment seemed to fade as she saw, in the distance, a sling of long, dark hair disappear behind a small door.

She couldn't help but watch a second longer— until another push to her back sent her crashing back to reality, shoulders shooting forward and her legs carrying her away from his touch as quick as her body would allow.

-^-v-^-v-^- [ Al-Asim estate, hallway ] -^-v-^-v-^-

"Oh, and over there—!"

Her head was pounding. Each time he spoke, standing much closer to her than comfortable, it felt to her body the same as a shrill seagull squawking in her ear. She'd have described it more as a very blunt scraping instrument being dragged along the insides of her ear canals. The first few minutes had been, while not quite pleasant, bearable. Yet coupled with the lights and that she could hear people they passed whispering about her, feel them staring at her, and the constant bombardment of her mind by too many impressions, she had trouble keeping up with the speed of his monologue.

Her back ached from the tense rigidness her body had been locked into since the tour had begun. Her mind was spinning and spinning so quickly she could not make out a single thought, making her throat constrict as a light wave of nausea swept through her.

At last she could not help but stop dead in her tracks, closing her eyes in a vein attempt to ward away the headache, and putting her hands over her ears with gritted teeth to deprive her overstimulated senses.

"Hey, are you ok?"

She could not speak a single word in reply. Perhaps she could have, had she wished, but she did not. She squeezed her lips closed, as tight as they would go, pressed her hands tighter over her ears, and took a long, deep breath through her nose before exhaling shakily.

"I...I apologize..." She spoke in a small voice, eyes still closed and ears still covered. "I am...somewhat tired."

He stood on, merely watching her, and she was grateful for the silence. After a few more breaths, she removed her hands and opened her eyes into slivers.

She opened her mouth to speak—

[*gro~owl*]

"Ah!"

She suddenly felt very much like hiding her face behind her hair, her neck already bowing down.

"...I did not awake in time for breakfast..."

"Oh, why didn't you say so? Come on, let's go eat!"

"Huh? What of the tour?"

"Relax, relax! We'll finish the tour later; food comes first! What kind of host would I be if I let my guest go hungry? Ha-ha!"

Having realized the cue by now, she pushed her feet forward before he could push her again, and within long, they arrived at a pair of large doors at the end of an L-shaped hallway, situated in the corner. Next to it, an open arch lead a walkway out to a large balcony.

And beside the doors stood Jamil.

Her mind, like a mill without a stream, only seemed uninterested in focusing on anything but following where the other two lead.

Eventually she found herself seated inside a large room with shining marble floor smothered by piles and piles of rugs and sitting pillows in so many colors that it made her dizzy. The glass-less windows were as tall as the walls themselves, and covered only by dark teal curtains hanging from the golden pillars.

She'd crammed herself as far into the shadows as she could, that being directly next to one such curtain, sitting on the opposite end of the low table from the two boys.

She digested the news she had been given slowly, watching the shoulders of the white-haired boy, drenched in too much sunshine for her to see.

"Are you...not the Head of House Asim?"

She could already feel the cogs in her mind speed up and send anxiety flooding through her chest, draining her body of warmth.

"Nope!" The red-eyed boy shook his head, causing the gold liberally covering his person to jingle. "That's my dad. He's off doing some important business this month. Soooooo! He put me in charge 'til he gets back!"

Beside him, shaded from the rays of light flooding through the room by the one sat next to him, Jamil shook his head and sighed.

"Only with small matters. Big decisions are to be put on hold until he gets back."

She clung to his every word with rapt anticipation, even as they caused dread to fill her stomach.

"Speaking of..."

Her hairs rose up in warm goosebumps when she felt him level his gaze at her, and her skin subsequently catch on fire. She only dared a single, cautious glance at him, though the sight of his gaze shot through her body almost violently, and she aimed hers at her lap once more.

"Yesterday you said you had an errand here. What was it?"

"I..." Her voice almost faltered.

She cautiously withdrew the fresh parchment from the pile of time-worn ones, and placed it gently on the table in front of her, laser-focused gaze not leaving it even as the energetic young man tried to take it, only for the other to grasp it first, eyeing the red wax seal and gasping.

"This is— the Crest of the Silkmires...!"

"The royal family from the Land of Dawning?" Kalim loudly parroted.

"Shh!"

"Oh—" he covered his mouth. "Sorry!"

She was witness with bated breath to the two of them breaking open the seal to read the words written on the parchment-- one in pure silence, the other mouthing the words in a whisper to himself.

In that moment she didn't want to say or do anything at all. All she wanted was something, anything, familiar.

She put her hand over her left breast pocket, where the felt the crinkle of old papers filled with memories, granting her new resolve. Nothing was more important than the purpose which had carried her so far from home.

"Oh, you're a princess?" 'Kalim', as Jamil had introduced him, asked, head popping up from where it had been bent to better read the letter. She could feel Jamil's eyes boring into her as well. She flustered.

"Yes..." She nodded.

"And all the way from the Land of Dawning! So what made you come to the Scalding Sands? Did you just wanna visit? I've always wanted to see the Land of Dawning!" his eyes remained firmly on her.

"That is…"

She heard a gasp and crinkle of paper. ("The Sultana is...?!")

"My... My sister Cerise left our home to be married to the Crown Prince of the Scalding Sands many years ago. I have not seen her since. And now…"

She still recalled the sad smile on her sister's face the day she left.

"She is sick..." Her voice turned to a whisper. She swallowed, her voice already strained from talking for the longest consecutive time in her life.

"She...wrote to me to convey as such. It was the first correspondence I had received from her in years. And so I..."

She closed her eyes...

She imagined Cerise, her maroon hair and tan skin illuminated only by the few candles lit in Artemisia's dark tower chamber, yet seeming always to glow brighter than all of them combined. She sat backwards on a chair in her riding habit, having come straight to Artemisia after her lessons for the day were finished. With her arms crossed on the top rail, she listened to her with rapt attention and a genuine smile, nodding her head along and asking follow-up questions to subjects Artemisia would only years later realize she had no personal interest in whatsoever.

...and drew in a deep breath.

"I have traveled here with the goal to speak to my sister in person one last time…to be allowed to at the very least say goodbye…" Her brows scrunched together and she had to stop herself from palming the letters in her pocket too hard, lest the old paper tear.

"Did Franzesca let you on her ship?" She could hear the smile in the sunny boy's voice.

She nodded.

"I begged her to let me board her vessel, and for passage to the Scalding Sands. I offered to pay her in all the jewelry I owned... I was close to tears through my entire plea."

Cowering her head, she took a moment to swallow and breathe, bringing one pale hand up to wipe away the tears forming in her eyes.

"She— she took pity on me, and informed me that, were my parents to find out I had left on her vessel, she would claim she had no knowledge of me stowing away on the ship..."

"That sounds just like her!" He nodded along with his own assessment.

Artemisia nodded in response once more, unsure of what else to do.

"Well! Now she's entrusted you to me, of course I'll help you!" He clapped his hands together and leaned closer over the table. "I'll write to the Sultan, and ask to visit her! Or if she can come here!"

"Truly?" Her pulse surged to life with desperation in her ears.

"Of course! I've got some cousins who are royal, so I'm sure it'll work out!"

"Thank you...thank you..."

She bowed her head again, squeezing her eyes shut tight to keep back the tears threatening to run down her face.

-^-v-^-v-^- [ Later - Al-Asim estate, laundry room ] -^-v-^-v-^-

Sitting on a stool in a closed-off room filled with wooden buckets, instruments she'd read of in books as being 'washboards' and the scent of soapy water, she fiddled with her skirt for the nth time that day.

The steady, rhythmic sound of the wet fabric being dragged against the rivulets of the washboard was soothing, in a strange way.

Though her gaze still couldn't help but dart around the room, despite already having looked at every nook and cranny of it long ago. Her eyes settled on the one thing, besides from the turning of day to dusk outside the window, which did constantly change; the pile of laundry. It had become rather small at this point.

"...Pardon me..." Left her like a whisper.

"Yes?" His head didn't turn from where it was, neck bent to better see the laundry in the tub.

"Is there something I could help with?"

The sigh he let out came as expected.

'Yet what else could I say?'

"I've said it three times already; there's nothing you could help with."

Rising up with the latest cleaned cloth, he brought it over to one of the long lines of rope hanging from one side of the room to the other; only the foremost of which was not entirely covered in cloth. The floor beneath them had been fashioned into a long series of many grates, so as to keep the water which dripped from his work from staining the floor as they dried.

Clutching her skirts in her lap and bowing her head in shame, she spoke:

"I...am aware... My apologies..."

He sighed once more, quieter this time.

("If you're so bored, why are you even here?") He cursed something in a foreign language under his breath.

She deigned not to answer.

("...I guess it wasn't exactly her choice. I swear, he'll lead me to a death by stress.")

Feeling the seconds stretch on too long for her liking, she spoke up once more:

"Pardon me..." She could already imagine the new sigh he was sure to heave, so continued before he could utter it: "Might there be something for me to read? If not in this room, then somewhere close? If I cannot be of any assistance to you, I would like to request a way to engage my time. No matter what manner of book it is, I would not mind; even an instruction manual would do well."

He paused for a long moment, seemingly caught in thought. Before at last, he went to the small bag she'd seen slung over his shoulder previously that day, laying next to the entrance of the room. Going through the contents, he at last retrieved something. With each step he took closer to her, her heartbeat grew a few decibels louder as it rang through her ears.

When his at once both strong yet slender hand extended the object to her, she dared not raise her eyes to see his face.

"...Thank you..." She kept her voice steady with great exertion, and let go of a breath she hadn't been aware of holding when he stepped back to the tub.

She placed a hand over her heart.

'Oh pray be still, you dysfunctional beast! What has gotten into you?'

Yet beat and beat and beat it still did for many long seconds. Her anxiety at feeling it act up likely didn't help relieve it.

When at last it had slowed and she leveled her focus at the book he'd brought her, she felt a warm light ignite in her chest, seeing the familiar name on the cover. She removed a glove to feel the material of the cover with her own hands.

'It is old... I must take care with it.' And so she did as she softly opened the cover.

"This is…" Covering a gasp with her hand, she carefully flipped through the pages of the old tome, treating each time-worn, wrinkled page with the delicacy of one handling a snowflake. She stopped to read the notes in the margins.

"The merchant said it was some kind of find. I assume your reaction means she was telling the truth."

Artemisia nodded. "Yes…this is incredible!" she felt the corners of her mouth be tugged up into a smile. "This is a truly antique copy of a book of old fables— one of the oldest written records of various Land of Dawning myths. As it is handscribed— it appears by a scholar by the name of Leveret— this may very well be one of the first copies!"

Glancing up, she saw a thoughtful expression on his face, bordering on a smile.

"It is a shame I do not currently have access to my family's repository of texts…" She flipped through the pages of the aged tome delicately, as though handling a snowflake. "I would have loved to comb through them to be able to place a definitive date for this copy. Yet, nonetheless, it is an incredible find. ...Though, I suppose I have said as much already. Pardon me…I become rather rhapsodic when it comes to all literary matters."

Enraptured in her joy at reading the familiar fables she had grown up with, he almost missed him mutter:

("I thought the Silkmire family only had two children…how come I've only heard of Sultana Cerise and Prince Valerian before?")

Like cold water being poured over an open fire, her shoulders sagged.

'...I should not be surprised that he would wonder… Anyone who meets me would, I am certain, knew they only of two royal children of my homeland.'

= Such is for the best. = Spoke a Dove from betwixt the frigid metal bars of a silver cage. = Mother always said as much. And was she not right? =

"...I was born a sickly child, and remained as such well into my early teens, and even now. It was not known whether or not I would survive childhood. I suppose that is why the King and Queen have not mentioned me much… As a precautionary measure…"

~ We are well-aware that is not the full story, are we not? ~ She made a vein attempt to tune the Swan out.

~ It is a lie, and we both know it well. ~ She shrunk farther into herself. ~ Logically the above statement would be likely. But prejudice against those who look different is not logical— at least not when it is your own child. ~

'...Mother had her reasons. She was merely worried for my sake.'

= And with the way people stare...do we not have proof her worries were well-founded? =

She could feel his eyes on her, prickling her skin, and glanced up from the book to see him staring at her. "Is…something the matter?" she asked, brows knitted in concern.

She gripped the edge of the book, careless at this point of bending the antiquity.

'Please do not say it…'

He stayed baffled for just a second, before he cleared his throat and answered:

"No, nothing." As he swiftly looked away.

Her shoulders lost their tenseness and sagged with an exhale of relief.

Letting a moment longer pass, she gazed once more at the book.

She couldn't decide whether she'd rather keep reading or hold it against her chest like a makeshift shield.

"...This 'Philosopher's stone'..." He spoke in the quiet. "Could you tell me more about it?"

The latter sentence sent a wind, light and airy, carrying away the heavy debris from her heart, igniting in its place a spark of hope.

"You...wish to hear more of it? Truly?"

She unconsciously leaned forward. Voice tinged with disbelief, she gripped the fabric of her dress as she felt familiar, beloved stories flood her mind.

"I haven't come across it in my—...supervision of Kalim's studies."

"I see..." She fought to keep a smile off her face, fiddling with her skirts.

She cleared her throat.

"The Philosopher's Stone is an old legend of my homeland. It is said it was created in some alchemical experiment an unknown time ago… What makes it special is that it is said to bring something to whoever is currently possessing it. The exact estimation of what that gift would be varies widely depending on which retelling you hear, and from whom…"

She raised one finger. "Yet they all, in the end, boil down to the same essence: power. Whether it be through gold enough to purchase an entire kingdom, magical knowledge enough to lay waste to civilizations, or merely just the essence— power, of some unspecified kind."

She spread her hands out as though to gesture to something laid before her. "It has sometimes been used as a fairy tale of sorts; a caution's word, speaking in warning to be wary of what one wishes for, and of the consequences wishes not-thought-through might bring."

She imagined before her tales of ancient kings, of desperate widows and widowers, of scholars seeking endless knowledge— tales cruel, of the desire of people eating like a rot at all they still had and stripping it from their begging hands.

"It is sad, and cruel...and yet it has fascinated countless generations of scholars and bibliophiles alike... And some people believe it's possible to master it. To not fall prey to whatever curse of misfortune has seen fit to haunt it."

She imagined where she was when she chanced upon those select tomes. Saw visions of a young girl standing on the tips of her toes, small hands reaching the very tips of her fingers higher and higher into the shadows of a library containing the words of people eons since passed on- to the next life, to some great journey perhaps, or simply snuffed out like the candlelight she relied on to read those very same passages, and snuffed out herself once her eyelids grew too heavy to keep open and the misty tendrils of sleep claimed her mind.

He scoffed lightly. She saw on his face what she perceived to be a troubled expression of some kind, his eyebrows and the corners of his mouth bent down.

"Do you not like the story?"

A moment of silence passed.

"...It's foolish, for anyone to think a stone could make any wish come true. It sounds too good to be true."

She paused. She considered his words.

"Perhaps it is... I have asked myself as such countless times."

She placed her hand over her heart.

The flapping of a bird's wings stole her from her visions with a soft gasp of surprise signalling her return to the waking world. She blinked, brows raised high, and the visions faded, replaced by her two white, smooth, empty hands.

Her eyes searched for the bird she'd heard. Upon not seeing one, she rose from her seat and went toward the window next to the counter. She felt his eyes on her.

"The bird…"

"Bird?" He parroted.

"...Perhaps…I simply imagined it."

"It's possible that you did hear one. Many migrate south this time of year." He gestured for her to gaze further down at the courtyard, where she saw a cluster of ashen brown birds.

"Yes, so I have read… To escape the cruel, frost-laden clutches of winter. I have seen them leave every year for all my life. Yet all I knew was they ventured to 'warmer climates'. I had not imagined they would go as far as to come here, so far from their homelands." Her sight trailed upwards to a single white dove perched on a rooftop. She followed its gaze to the crowd of its not-quite peers.

"...Logically I am aware the story is one of caution... And yet..."

She followed its gaze to the crowd of its not-quite peers.

"I can understand why so many would choose to believe the legend. The yearning for the mere chance, even if false, to change your fate, a yearning so strong it thrums through your very bones..."

The dove spread its wings and in a single leap, flew into the air. With another flap of its wings, it was off, setting course for the deep red dusk sky, the traces of her envious gaze clinging to its feathers.

Yet, inexplicably, it was the same sky that stretched to her homeland. A sky filled with so many birds, of so many lands.

Of endless possibilities.

And there she stood, watching on from the ground.

Just as she always had.

"...You sometimes feel it might drive you mad."

"If I may ask…" His voice snapped her out of her revelry.

"Hm?" She muttered on instinct, head turning to see him standing at the next window over, gazing too at something far away in the sky.

"You mentioned the White Rose, and captain Cross. Did she and her crew take you all the way to Silk City, from the Land of Dawning capital?" His voice bordered on disbelief.

Artemisia merely nodded.

"...If I ever see her again, I do not know how I would ever repay her. I never thought I would ever be able to come this far. Were it not for her, her crew and vessel, I am certain it would never have come to pass."

A blanket of silence fell over the room with finality.

As the last syllable left her lips, she swallowed at the feeling of her throat stinging faintly from overuse.

Her eyes widened in shock.

'We just…had a conversation. A real, full conversation!'

She'd spoken to others before, but never like this. It had never come so naturally. Throughout them all, she had always felt a cornered duckling, rightfully ashamed of daring to show her face, to be seen at all. Never before had her thoughts and ideas been taken seriously for what they were— even less so by someone who seemed so utterly unconcerned with her, for so she saw it, ghastly appearance.

No, this discussion was like one of the scenes she read and reread and yearned to experience over and over again in her favorite books; just two minds, on even ground, engaging in a discussion.

Her heartbeat pitter-pattered in her chest, her body floating amidst the twilight's gilded clouds.

'So this is what it feels like, to have a discussion with someone...' The tops of her cheeks warmed gently with the realization.

The quiet of the world outside her mind was only broken by the sound of the wind coming from outside the windows; the same wind which now played gently with his hair.

She couldn't tear her eyes away, the sight of his bangs fluttering gently in the wind, allowing for faint glimpses of his face to be seen through the curtain of his hair. Glimpses that made the loud beating of her heart swell in rhythm to the swaying wind.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ I had originally planned to use some Arabic in this fic— that's what the purple text is supposed to be— but then I realized that if I tried to do that, I would never actually get this out

So yeah just be aware that whenever you see purple text in the future, that means they're speaking Arabic Considering maybe changing it in the future, but for now I'll keep it like this

(side note if you find any typos please lmk bc I don't have time to go through and check right now)

Tag list: @another-random-paradise @thehollowwriter @faefum @cactus13-rolloflammesimp @beneathsakurashade

@nyx-of-night @theolivetree123 @babyghoul138 @skibidibabygirl @justm3di0cr3

@screamintoad