Otromn
Otromn The vines had yielded an excellent harvest that year, and the wine promised to be one of the finest he had ever made. He had little to complain about, although his rough, weathered hands had never managed to improve the neglected corner of the greenhouse that he cherished above all the others. During one of his journeys to Venus, he had bought a packet of seeds from Otromn. The vendor had assured him that, if he visited the plants every evening and offered them a prayer of gratitude, they would one day reward his devotion. Time passed. The plants produced nothing more than a handful of tiny, scentless roses. Busy with countless other tasks, the gardener eventually forgot the vendor's strange advice. One cold morning, as he made his way to the greenhouse, an overwhelming sense of danger came over him. He quickened his pace. He reached the greenhouse. He stepped inside. Several days later, when the small village became alarmed by his disappearance and every search proved unsu...