The Spellshop

Questions are the heart of a functioning society.

And she had her books. If everyone living failed her, whenever they did, she had all the immortal voices caught in pages.

I read once about a scholar who’d been imprisoned and had to write on his walls in his own blood.

When I was a kid, I heard a story about a hermit who held so many words inside that eventually he burst from the pressure of all the unsaid thoughts. Years later, they found his bones scattered and thousands of words burned into the stone walls of his cave. Ever since, I’ve been afraid to hold too many words inside.