The Time Traveler's Flask

First law: the anchor. A traveler needs something that grounds them in time, and the wise ones keep it close — in a leather satchel, say, at the side of a wheelchair that has seen more centuries than the road it rolls on.

A heavyweight flask, etched with a raven low on the body where your thumb rests. Fill it with something aged in charred oak; the char remembers the years so you don't have to. Pour like it matters. Somewhere, a woman with green eyes and no patience for interruptions carries its sister, and you should hope she'd approve of yours.

PREORDER. Etched to order.