Nearly two centuries from now the old city of Minerva finds itself on the edge of a desert wilderness. At its center is an arcology run by the new aristocracy and their techno-Gaian religion. The paths of young Eligia and Galya are on a slow collision course caught between the dependencies and conflicts of their contrasting communities, surrounded by shadowy outlaws, and on the frontlines of a neo-feudal power struggle.
When winter descends, do you hold fast to the memory of boundless verdure, lamenting the withering splendor, the harsh cold winds driving us inside? Or do you welcome the relief from the stifling clamor, grateful to be able to see through the trees? It seems impossible to remember by October what we felt in March. What we do remember seems to only justify the brilliant bloom of death & the silence of ice.
Headypidgeon4180 2 years ago
I love this style of art. Reminds me of a friend of mines comics that I enjoy reading a lot
lviatrix 2 years ago (edited 2 years ago)
Thanks Headypidgeon!