The Cracked Mirror: The Stories of Anatasia Bouchard by KarineaStar
We join darling Anastasia on the morning of the Witches Festival 2E 585. Her hazel eyes having just opened to greet the morning and a drowsy yawn spreading on pale pink lips. The sleep had barely been wiped away when her head turned to one side the stiff pillow under her head reminding her that home was once again an Inn room somewhere in Wayrest, hardly the bed she was accustomed to at old Rosewood Manor but she could never go back there, not after what happened or what was about to happen again in the moments that would come to pass.
The Aelianus Books by Tiberius Aelianus
I sit in the twilight years of my life and it is now a time to look back upon what was, and has become. I do not regret the choices made in life. Far from it. I have seen my family grow in both numbers and strength but at a terribly high price. Though if it is a question if I would pay that price again the answer would always be yes. It wasn't a hard choice to make then, nor would it be now if it was presented once more.
Souls in the Snow by Samsayia
I think he was maybe only six or eight at the time? Perhaps I remember it that way because the tears were still in his eyes those days, still so heavily mourning the loss of his friend and guardian, a large mudcrab he named Zero. Morthal can get snow sometimes after Frostfall, and that time of the year we had heavy snow packed up over the ice on the water. I remember finding a trail out into the swamp.