Zizeeria
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A tidal wetland at dawn: channels of still water between tall reeds, timber walkways on stilts, a fishing settlement in the distance.
Concept art

The main story

The morning after the tide ran wrong

Last night something struck once under the Heronmere, and the tide ran in faster than anyone steered. This morning it left two things on Reedhaven's flats: something that should not float, and you.

The torn world

Zizeeria was held together once by the Weave, a living net that bound all life. It tore. What is left is two shores and two looms: at Hushfen Keep the Lantern Loom binds, at Gloamrend the Riven Loom loosens, and the people of each shore will tell you the other is why the world is still torn. Then came a night when the water moved on its own, and by morning everyone who can feel a thread had come to the same small harbour. Reedhaven keeps the Tide Peace: whoever the water brings is fed and heard, and no blade is drawn on the jetties. The old ones tell of a bell under the marsh that nobody they knew ever heard, and nobody in Reedhaven is saying that word yet.

Two sides, one story

Both sides land at the same harbour, eat the same bread and walk the same boardwalk. Neither is the story's villain, and neither is told it is right.

  • A broad figure in hide and green-patinated bronze, shield held low, one hand open in a gesture of calming.Concept artA figure in pale cloth standing knee-deep in still water, hands open above the surface as green light rises toward them.Concept art

    The Weavers

    We are the ones who can still feel the threads, and we mend what we can. We came to Reedhaven because a thread was pulled, hard, from somewhere under the water. The harbour keeps the Tide Peace: whoever the tide brings is fed and heard, and we keep it for them as for our own. We mend, and every year something we mended is loosened again. Ask us why the world stays torn, and we will point across the water.

  • A hulking horned beast, low and broad, frayed cord and rusted bronze grown into its shoulders and a drover's goad grown from one forelimb, a herd blurring away behind it.Concept artA stooped reed-thin creature knee-deep in black water among dead reeds, throat open in a soundless song, dark rot rising from the surface toward its open hands.Concept art

    The Tearers

    We are what came apart when the Weave tore, and we chose to stay that way. We came to Reedhaven because something bound pulled tight, hard, from somewhere under the water. The harbour keeps the Tide Peace: whoever the tide brings is fed and heard, and it fed us before it asked whose we were. We loosen, and every year something we loosened is bound again. Ask us what tore the world, and we will point across the water.

“The town fed you before it asked whose shore you came from. That is the Tide Peace, and it holds only while somebody bakes for the next tide.”
Halla Tideward, harbourmaster of Reedhaven, asking for bread

Four acts

  1. Partly in

    Act I. What the Tide Left

    Reedhaven. Something lies on the reed flats that should not float, the deer have doubled since spring, and the harbourmaster is not saying what she thinks. What came in on that tide?

  2. Planned

    Act II. The Burn and the Deep

    The Ashreaches and the Binder's Deep. The burn is spreading faster than fire explains, and nobody has mapped past the second shelf of the Deep and come back to say so. What is keeping the ash warm?

  3. Planned

    Act III. Two Capitals

    Hushfen Keep and Gloamrend. Each capital tells its own people that the other shore is why the world is still torn, and gives them work that proves it. What does the work turn up?

  4. Planned

    Act IV. The Marsh Bell

    A bell that was struck must hang somewhere, and both sides mean to reach it. What does it ask of whoever gets there?

Voices from the harbour

  • “The tide brings us what it likes. This morning it brought you.”
    Halla Tideward, harbourmaster of Reedhaven
  • “The deer have doubled since spring. Somebody has been thinning the wolves, and it was not the wolves.”
    Vessa of the Long Road, tracker
  • “Everything that grows here is for later. When you have been to the burn and back, bring me what you find at the edge of it.”
    Sanna Fenrow, herbalist
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