Turn the page, for not one but two tales rise from the shadows to be told anew.
The first tells of a mermaid, young and curious, who longed for the world of men. She swam near their ships, listened to their songs, watched their strange rituals. Yet the sea is fickle, and human hearts crueller still. One night sailors spied her, cast hooks and hurled harpoons. Dragged aboard and pierced with iron, she slipped away wounded, sinking to the ocean floor. There her love for mankind drowned, and vengeance grew—small as a hatchling, swelling like a great shark. Soon ships began to vanish. Some whispered of a Leviathan. But the old sea-wolves knew: there are no monsters, save those men make for themselves.
The second tale tells of a girl in a red cap who went to her grandmother’s house with cakes in her basket and songs on her lips. Days passed, yet she did not return. The villagers marched with torches toward the grandmother’s house. Halfway there they met her—Red Riding Hood. Changed. Taller, shoulders broad, her waist ringed with fangs. Crimson stained her face, and in her gentle hands she carried a hatchet, steady and sure. She smiled still, and sang her whimsical song.
And what do these tales bestow upon us? Gaze closely at the images, and you shall see.
These stories take shape in the new Set and Lottery—yours to seize.
