The Watchers: A Rite Becoming
The trees bent inward, their limbs draped in long, trailing veils, like mourners who had forgotten how to leave. Stone markers rose from the earth in uneven rows, some proud, some sinking, all whispering in a language older than memory.https://kandiblaze.wordpress.com/2026/04/30/the-watchers-a-rite-becoming/












