The Obsidian Fortress

The scent of crackling birch logs, burning frankincense, and warm lavender oil was the first sensation that pierced through the heavy fog of Selene’s unconsciousness. She shifted slightly, expecting the biting chill of the drafty attic floor and the rough prickle of burlap sacks. Instead, her skin was enveloped in the most decadent, heavenly luxury she had ever experienced. She lay beneath layers of thick, down-filled duvets covered in pure…