Guild Of Flames
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The world is grey. The horizon is bleak. Politics is spreading faster than the Guild Of Flames can stem the flow.
Hazel Selkirk was born into this world. And when she is offered the chance to spread colour throughout, who would refuse?
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The first time I saw the color, I thought it was a sign that things were going to work out. How could I not see those vibrant purples and cobalt blues framed in a swirling aura of chimerical colors lighting up the rumbling midnight storm clouds as a bad thing? How was I to know then that this color composed of many, but still one, was an omen while the world around us burned? That it wasn't to be our rainbow from God signaling our salvation from the madness that consumed those outside our borders? That the hues I failed to recreate with my crayons and pencils on the floor of my brother's cabin would twist and corrupt everything bathed in its light?
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