Hieron: The Months of Autumn Pt 1

And so the season turns, and the cold winds sweep in, and candles and fires and stoves are lit. Black branches against a white sky. There are more stories to tell, though. There are always more stories to tell. It's not long before we meet our old friends again, I promise. They're waiting, right now. They're kicking the frost off their boots, cold fingers on metal buckles. Before we find them again, though, there is an old story to tell. Perhaps you've heard it before. Perhaps this is the first time you've heard it. There's a small island, you see? Waves crash around its rocky coast. There is the silhouette of a tower. It's better, don't you think, to bring everybody up to speed?