They came with politeness. Chitinous cicadas of smooth, elegant build, etched in runes whose meanings have long since faded. Their limbs folded with care. Their eyes glinted with ancient wit. They emerged from cocoons not their own—borrowed, bartered, or stolen—and with dry, unhurried certainty, they gave their warning: Encirclement had begun. So it was that … Continue reading II: The Darkness Of Riat