PHANTASM SERIES BOOK 3 --- Hiraeth (Welsh pronunciation: [hɪraɨ̯θ, hiːrai̯θ]) is a Welsh word for longing or nostalgia, an earnest longing or desire, or a sense of regret. The feeling of longing for a home that no longer exists or never was. A deep and irrational bond felt with a time, era, place or person. --- You were close enough that you could see the crew scurrying about on deck now. They looked as ragged as the ship - no sense of unity about them other than that they were all standing on deck together, swords brandished as you approached. You scanned over them and felt suddenly grateful for your sailing uniform - some of those pirates didn't even have shoes. Simon strode the deck, scanning through the ranks for the captain of the Ghost. You had been given some indication as to what she looked like, but when she parted herself from the ranks of her crew, you weren't quite ready for what she actually looked like. They didn't do her justice on the wanted posters back home. She was short, but powerfully built. You could see ram horns sticking out from underneath her extravagant hat, and her coat was a bright blood red - the gold trim faded somewhat. You were most focused on her hair though - pure white and absolutely massive, it looked like a cloud around her head. Stern eyes finished the look, and you couldn't help but be a little bit entranced - this was the kind of person that people were scared to make eye contact with. Simon didn't seem all that frightened when he came to stand on the edge of your own deck, facing her over the narrow strip of sea that separated you - and you were grateful. If you were captain, you didn't know if you would be able to look her in the eye.

THE FALL OF AN EMPIRE BOOK THREE --- What a wonderful little secret this was though. If you hadn't been able to follow the signs you would have never found it - a real travesty. Everything you could possibly need resided here in some form or another - feverfew sprang up in little bunches from the ground, accompanied by echinacea. Gingko trees around the place offered their leaves down to you in little bundles. If you hadn't known better, you would have thought someone had planted it all here... A rustle from the bushes behind you stopped your train of thought in its track, sending a shiver of panic down your spine. Your hand withdrawing from the bundle of milk thistle it had been about to grab, you slowly turned, mind filling with all a matter of wild animals that could be lurking in this wood. A pair of soft brown eyes peered out from one of the clumps of brush, staring directly at you.

The song ended as you merged onto the highway and another familiar song started up - not by Myra but by an adjacent band to the Myracle Makers that you also liked - the Dream Team. You had found out about them through Myra's music (Spotify thought that they went together well) and you had fallen in love with a couple of their songs, and then a couple more, until you were in their top .5% of listeners. They were one of your favorite bands, and their song Florida Smile was a song for the soul. You smiled to yourself, turning up the radio. The familiar beat of the drums pumped through the speakers of your car and you began to sing along as the lead singer - he went by Dream as a stage name (like Dream's Team... haha) - began to sing. You knew all the words by heart. And you've got a Florida smile... sends my heart racing to the mark at the mile...

"I'll read it out for you." Anne said, handing the cigarette back to you. "Wanted; for breaking and entering and robbery. Unknown bandit seen leaping from a window of a bank in Kempton, may be walking with a limp from the fall. Suspected to be about 5'8" and stocky build. Should any leads arise please contact local authorities." --- You hadn't even seen him there, obscured in the darkness of night - and it was obvious that he hadn't been expecting anyone to come out back. He startled, stumbling away from where he had been leaning, and your heart leapt into your throat, surprised in the worst way possible. So surprised, that you threw the bag of vegetable scraps at him as a form of self defense. The bag bounced harmlessly against the man's chest and landed on the ground. Your eyes darted to it first, but then up to the man you had thrown it at - taking in his features from the light streaming out of the still-open door. He wasn't too tall, but he had the build of someone who had known a farm life before - broad shoulders and muscle made for work, not show. His clothes were practical, and he carried a pack strapped to his back. It was his face that was the most interesting though - he couldn't have been much older than you, and he looked kind, for lack of a better word. Open, almost.

PHANTASM SERIES BOOK 1 --- Tacenda; pl (plural only): Things that are not to be spoken about or made public. Things that are best left unsaid. --- He was unlike anyone else you had seen before. There was a certain confidence about him that drew everyone's eye. His hair was tied back into a messy plait, but it was the color that was the most striking, a bright pink that contrasted the dark red and black of his robes. His face was mostly obscured by the mask of his people, but you could just make out the shape of his jaw and a flash of sharp teeth when he smiled. He was dangerous - but he was magnetic.

THE FALL OF AN EMPIRE BOOK ONE --- Your eyes trailed up to the balcony, taking stock of the man who was perched there, hands resting on the railing as he peered down at the crowd that had just entered the room. Broad shoulders were only accentuated by plated armor, polished to a bronze sheen. You had seen this man before, during military processions and that sort of thing. The prison warden, and one of the caesar's previous champions. Samuel. The warden of the prison underneath the colosseum.

THE FALL OF AN EMPIRE BOOK TWO -- Approaching Anoitos' temple again, you opened the door, turning as you stepped inside to close it again. The door closing with a satisfying clunk, you spun back around, intending to just quickly bow your head and grab your beads without much circumstance. You were not expecting to see a man, mid-way through stuffing his face with the plate of offerings you had brought, at the altar, his eyes blown wide with panic and focused on you. You stared back at him. "I- you- what are you doing? Who are you? How-?" You turned halfway back to the door, intending to run for one of the guards. "Wait!" The man's voice drew your attention back to him, just in time to see his appearance shift slightly - like there was something behind the mirage of his skin. For a moment - the man was gone, and in his place, a living replica of the hulking gold warrior depicted in the statue took his place. Your hand dropped from the handle of the door, staring up at the god before you. Out of all the times for your prayers to be answered... and of all ways, like this... "See?" He said, shrinking back to the man you had seen before, the boyish smile you knew so well still on his face. "It's just me!" Standing before you, with crumbs of bread on his face, was Anoitos, somehow - impossibly - in the flesh.