The Sowing
The silence aboard their vessel, the Starseed, was a new kind of quiet. It was not the deep, rooted silence of the Tor, nor the peaceful hush of the estate. It was the vacuum-hardened silence of the void, filled only by the faint, technological hum of life support and the psychic resonance of the Seed nestled in its chamber. Elara and Jovan were unmoored, the solid earth of Aethelburg a receding blue-green marble behind them. They were pilgrims without a shrine, Wardens of a sanctuary that no longer existed in a single place.
For weeks, they traveled, following an instinct that was no longer their own, but a gentle pull from the Seed itself. It was a divining rod for destiny, seeking the right soil for its planting. Their mission was terrifying in its scope: to subtly alter th
