The vibrant stained glass panels of the walls and ceiling pulsed and turned. Living support structures grew between them. The colors and images shifted with the stories collected.
A Storyteller gathered stories and warehoused knowledge. An essential task in a land often overwhelmed by emotion. The Queen's Might muted that emotion so the realm could function. It allowed the Storyteller to collect a never-ending supply of stories.
There was a frost on the grass. The Storyteller exhaled. Damp, cool air made her breath visible. She pursed her lips and held them tight. A deep breath in and one more exhale through her nose.
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