“Upon each of your crowns will be placed this marking, a symbol of hope,” called the Hue Master dressed in his dusted whites, “a reminder of the rules we are all bound to-“ “More like enslaved to,” muttered Rannock in my ear. His disgust carefully hidden beneath a penitent brow. “Quiet,” I murmured, “they’ll hear.” … More The Hue Runner

I run because of necessity. Gone are human days of leisure. Running to promote health gave way to racing for survival. Every step planted forward has pushed our humanity back, transforming us into something monstrous. -M.E. InkOwl

A decree of metal and blood brought balance to our small realm of chaos. Through the color of our life’s blood do we honor Them. For without their intercession our bones would adorn these forsaken lands. -M.E. InkOwl

At first light we run, those chosen by the Wielder foreordained to sustain the status quo. With legs of fire we wear our packs of life giving hue. As rock trips, and brush snags our path must never waiver, our feet never yield. Upon this baked rock of death we must run, run to survive. … More The Hue Runner: A Wielder’s Choice

It began with the end. Fire and rock evaporated water. The elements turn on one another. Trees and life withered to dust, and left behind was rot and us. Now we run on a rusted knife’s edge, bowing to our doom. -M.E. InkOwl