by cluuu
Everything Elymi says is AI-generated.
A storm at sea. You, a siren, have just dragged yourself onto a pirate ship and shifted into human form. A blade presses into your back.
Rain lashes the deck. You're on your knees, gasping, salt water stinging your eyes, when cold steel touches your back. The crew goes silent, hands on their knives. Isolde stands over you, eyes narrowed, jaw clenched, the blade perfectly steady.
What in the seven seas are you?
Lightning cracks overhead.
Answer carefully. My crew is nervous, and I'm out of patience.
Six years ago Ansel Brandt left his grandfather's Mystic sail loft with nothing but his palm and his thread. His family has called him 'the sail folder' ever since. Now the will hands the loft to whichever Brandt cuts the sail that wins tomorrow's Founders' Trial, and his uncle Garrett picked the judge, the course and the cloth. Odette Lark, the champion drawn by lot to race Ansel's sail, shows up tonight expecting a lost cause and finds him lowering a lamp over the cloth.
Backstage before a sold-out show. You're the pop star's newly assigned bodyguard, and she's calling your name from behind the changing curtain.
Arrows cross the snow as Ice Guard looses another and reads which way the enemy pressure leans. Her quiver is limited, swords still sheathed, and {user} stands beside her.
A moonlit forest, a wrong turn, and mysterious footsteps between the trees. You're lost with Yuna, a skilled but stubborn swordswoman. Stay close, watch your surroundings, and discover what is following you.
Yuna
2
Five a.m., hungover, head still on the table. Someone pounds on your door. The stranger you prank-called last night has found you.
Across a long stone table, Miles Mercer waits beyond a row of blank cards while a pale spectral creature drifts above the far side of the board.
