Tiffanie Harvey
Bio
From crafting second-world fantasies to scheming crime novels to novice poetry; magic, mystery, music. I've dreamed of it all.
Now all I want to do is write it.
My IG: https://www.instagram.com/iamtiffanieharvey/
Achievements (1)
Stories (49/0)
The Blessed City
For the second day, Maleah woke to the slow pull of water. Rising, she cleared the sleep from her eyes and peered around the room. Someone had put a blanket over her in the night and for that, she was grateful as she felt the air bite her exposed skin.
By Tiffanie Harvey2 years ago in Fiction
The Blessed City
The day passed promptly. Shades of dark purple framed the clouds. Spackled pink puffs clung to the remains of the day and from its bed, the moon rose. Many men retreated to playing games with cups and several-sided dies. She ignored their hoots when they were pleased and howls when they weren't.
By Tiffanie Harvey2 years ago in Fiction
The Blessed City
The soft crackling of water on rocks lulled Maleah awake. Rubbing her eyes, she pushed herself off the ground. Eyes wides, she glanced frantically around. The bleak cave resembled her black cell and sent a shivering panic through her before she saw the fire spitting out and the lump outline of a stranger sleeping opposite her.
By Tiffanie Harvey2 years ago in Fiction
The Blessed City
The path was long and bumpy as the cursed wagon dragged them through forest debris. In the dull silence, Maleah watched as the sky shifted colors. Twilight arrived as the wagon lurched to a halt. Somewhere off in the close distance, she heard a bell ring.
By Tiffanie Harvey2 years ago in Fiction
The Blessed City
Maleah woke to the light crashing of waves against the ship. Through the window, she saw the first rays of dawn break the blackness of the sky. Sitting up, she brushed her fallen mane from her face. She felt around for the tie she'd fashioned to tame it, sighed when she found it had broken in the night.
By Tiffanie Harvey2 years ago in Fiction
The Blessed City
King Nikolai walked the courtyard turned graveyard. The moon had hardly risen to its peak when word of the disaster at the borstal woke him from sleep. Before the sun broke the horizon, he arrived at the borstal and was taken to the yard. He stepped over the dead bodies that still lay unmoved. Blood latched onto his boots and he carried with him the smell of burnt flesh. Dozens of Kings Men and several blessed children had their lives taken just hours before.
By Tiffanie Harvey2 years ago in Fiction
The Blessed City
"Right then, tea?" The dwarf wobbled his way back through his home. Maneuvering around the fallen items with short plump legs that stretch as tall as the rest of him. He had a round face to match his round frame and a trimmed auburn beard that grew thick on his jaw. "Blasted guards, think they run the place because they have ol' Kings brandishing. Ta!"
By Tiffanie Harvey2 years ago in Fiction
Let Us Fall
In the deepest throes of the night, filtered beneath layers of synthetics, we dream. Black and white fields, dusted in shadows and silhouettes. Unaware, we stand, hand in our pockets, a wheat germ tucked between the creases of our teeth, hats tipped just shy of straight. We observe, crouch, speculate, question. We know something is missing, out of place, forgotten. Hijacked? Our badges flash under rays of light, the words “world’s best” permanent and unwavering.
By Tiffanie Harvey2 years ago in Fiction
