Chris White
Bio
English Literature/Comparative Literature/German Student at Glasgow University with a passion for poetry and the creation of prose.
From Newcastle upon Tyne, Lives in Glasgow!
Stories (2/0)
Hellheart
The midnight sky was an orchestra from Hell. Lightning whipped across the sky with the fury of snapped violin strings as the bellowing whale song of thunder shook the ground below. Icy rain fell into the sea which surged against the cliffs to the beat of an idiot metronome. Upon a spire of rock that jutted from the churning waters there stood a lone watchtower. It was the last remnant of a long-forgotten city, its pock-marked stones, the scars that held the tales of countless years facing the harshness of the sea. Against the brunt of the storm, upon the seaward balcony, Maia stood staring into the sky. Despite the violence of the storm Maia remained unphased and although her long hair writhed in the wind the rain did not touch her; instead fizzing into steam against an invisible sphere of magic that surrounded her.
By Chris White2 years ago in Fiction
Hellheart
To attend the Arcane Academy of Darien was a great honour for anyone with magical talent; but to be accepted to become a Master of the Academy was an opportunity very few individuals would ever achieve. Following her research into the School of Abjuration and Protection, Maia became one of the foremost practitioners of the art. By the age of twenty she had been leading lectures on the subject and the channelling of magic as a form of defence. Her students would talk of how her classes involved bolts of fire being thrown at students, or field trips to some of the harsher environments on Aerth to practice defending against the elements.
By Chris White2 years ago in Fiction
