Edward Goodwill is a sculptor who’s been commissioned by the Prime Minister of Ismyre to produce a commemorative work. He’s not comfortable with the commission, and is delaying the start, passing this off as conceptualising, and a further concern is that small pieces are going missing from his studio. He’s not the only one experiencing this, and in the wider city people are also disappearing, while eco-terrorists are causing explosions in which large amounts of flowers manifest. Drowning his sorrows in a bar, Edward meets Faustine, altogether more positive and adventurous, and his life and outlook begins to change.

Considering it an acquired taste is possibly the best way to describe the art. It’s very basic in presenting the anthropomorphic world, and overlaid with splodges and washes of watercolour yellow, blue and pale red. The amateur look is deliberately reinforced with uneven, hand drawn panels, and it’s not very appealing.

That’s a shame, because there’s a wistful longing to the story, a message about the compromise of creating art to demand, and eventually a spirit of fun. B. Mure also ties everything up very neatly in a world where sorcery exists. The downside is too much meandering over the 69 story pages. Establishing Edward’s mood didn’t require as many pages, and there are random items such as allegations of the Prime Minister’s corruption that are randomly thrown in and never followed up. It all serves to inflate a very slim story, but to no great effect. The core is sound, but the surroundings are weak.