Without giving too much away, let's just say that the city is getting stranger by the day. The dreamers are getting restless, and the lines between reality and fantasy are blurring. Will you be able to uncover the truth behind the city's mysterious forces, or will you get lost in the dream?
Kestrel’s decision was not new, but it had teeth tonight. He had learned to listen to the city’s edges. The Harborquay Lanternwrights were not just craftsmen; they were, the rumor went, backed by a man named Ruan Grey—a financier whose name tasted like salt and iron. When the Council’s men went to men like Ruan, they did not go to mend; they went to replace. He had watched Ruan’s men lay tracks for a machine north of the river, and where they laid tracks, old things tended to fall silent. City of Broken Dreamers -v1.15.0 Ch. 15-
When Lena opened her eyes again, she was back in the Grand Plaza. The moon was setting, casting long shadows across the city. It was as if nothing had happened, as if Elyria had been just another dream. Without giving too much away, let's just say
Kestrel woke to the echo of glass against stone: a steady, patient clinking that threaded through the half-lit attic like a metronome. Outside, the city exhaled—tired steam and the distant toll of a foundry bell—but inside the room a single lamp burned clear, its wick trimmed and fed with a pale oil that smelled faintly of winter apple. On the table, a row of paper lanterns waited like sealed mouths. Kestrel’s decision was not new, but it had teeth tonight
He found Jessamyn by the river where she sold small lanterns patched with ribbon. Her eyes were the color of a back-alley pool. She listened to his hurried telling with fingers that did not stop working. When he was finished she said only, “We have to make the old lamps uncollectible.”