The Unwritten Chronicle

Previously

…He picked up a small, tarnished silver letter opener from his desk, turning it over and over in his fingers. "The past is not a static entity. It breathes. It shifts. And sometimes, when the currents are right, it can ripple into the present. Certain objects… certain texts… they become conduits for those ripples." Alex’s brow furrowed. "Conduits? For what?" "For… what was," Thorne said cryptically. He finally looked directly at Alex, his pale blue eyes holding a profound sadness. "There are events that are too significant to be entirely erased. Threads of fate, perhaps, that refuse to be severed. And sometimes, these threads can manifest