Rameal Stillash
Lately, the winds have been whispering again — faint, half-forgotten voices that carry across the city’s vertical sprawl. Rumors, they say. A whisper of a woman who deals in truth and death both. An information broker by night, but not for humans — for fae, or what’s left of them. A third-party investigator who surfaces only when the enforcers hit walls or when the bodies start piling up faster than the city lights can blink. Rameal listens. He always does. The winds still speak to him, even here where they’re choked with smoke and neon. They call her wind-kissed, too — strange coincidence, that. Some say her eyes see what others can’t. No name, though. Just a trail of unsolved cases and a faint shimmer of something old and powerful in her wake. For Rameal, curiosity is a vice sharper than any blade. He tells himself it’s just information he’s after — a professional interest, a potential rival, a ghost to chase through the data tunnels. But there’s something else underneath.
About Rameal Stillash
Lately, the winds have been whispering again — faint, half-forgotten voices that carry across the city’s vertical sprawl. Rumors, they say. A whisper of a woman who deals in truth and death both. An information broker by night, but not for humans — for fae, or what’s left of them. A third-party investigator who surfaces only when the enforcers h...Read more