Stormlight Archive Elhokar

(ONGOING) 2022 Working in the underground archive of Hills Inc. a company that took over her father's, Caroline Ann Wright, a beautiful black woman experiences much more than she ever thought she would in her lifetime. ***** Caroline Ann Wright lost her parents in a plane crash when she was just seven years old. Her Aunt took her in because of the fortune her parents had left behind. At eighteen, she was abandoned to live on the streets. Twenty four years old, she works at Hills Inc. a building where her father once ran his company, now taken over by a new one. It didn't matter to her, not as long as she gets paid. Later on, she realizes her job in the underground archive is much more than bookkeeping. Instead, she is to ensure the secret door containing the company's secrets is not breached by outsiders. Fate aligns her meeting with the cocky playboy CEO, Dawn Hills who had lost his mother to cancer, and has quite a strained relationship with his father. At first, he lied about his true position in the company just to know her. In his words, Caroline seems rigid and makes his curiosity swell. Their story breaks into a full blown romance. However, like the saying goes...it is not always sunshine and rainbows.

In the coastal quiet of Baler, a studio is born—not of architecture, but of intention.* Founded by Yam, a poet whose words cradle pain gently, and Franc, an artist who paints tenderness into walls, the studio becomes a refuge for those learning to stay—with grief, love, longing, and themselves. As visitors arrive, they leave behind more than footprints: a sigh recorded in bamboo, a poem tucked into the “Found Letters” shelf, a mural painted in crooked lines. Through zines, tea, silence, and sketchbooks, the studio teaches softness as revolution. Ren creates the *Window of Soft Returns*, an installation of anonymous voice recordings—each whisper forming a community of echoes. Drew builds the *Staircase With No Wrong Turns*, inviting people to walk through emotions without shame. Franc offers brushstrokes as brave work, and Yam curates writing circles that map healing in half sentences. Together, they host festivals that feel like hugs, and they begin traveling their archive, letting softness cross oceans. Even those who once left—like Miguel—return, discovering that some doors never truly close. Others, like Tala, capture the studio’s sound and turn it into a podcast of breath and becoming. Over seventy chapters, the studio transforms into something larger than itself: a mural of memory, a sanctuary for second chances, a place where return is sacred and voice is proof of survival. In the final bloom, the studio stands not as a monument—but as a reminder: > *“Staying isn’t easy. > But chosen together, > it becomes home.”*