Zachary Archer
Stories (5/0)
The Apothecary's Apprentice
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. The Gods protected us for hundreds of years, now they are silent. It was slow at first, the skies began turning a bleak grey. The sun no longer rose and fell, erasing the purples and oranges of sunrise and sunset. The stars no longer shone in the night sky. Fires in the hearth did not warm us; rivers became stagnant and no longer flowed through the Valley. All of the world slowed down and came to a stop. Then, the dragons came.
By Zachary Archer2 years ago in Fiction
Thomas' Mystery
Once upon a time, there was a man named Thomas. Thomas was exceedingly average. When he went to school he earned average grades, at work he performed exactly as expected, and when he returned home, he spent his time as an average American would. Thomas stayed in line as he should, never making waves, keeping on the correct path of life so that he could eventually retire and live a relaxing life wherever he ended up. He always hoped it would be California, but he would be fine in whatever quiet suburb was offered to him.
By Zachary Archer2 years ago in Fiction
Come Away, Come Away
There once was a boy named Alexander, who lived in a farmhouse beyond the city limits. Where the streets of asphalt gave way to the dusty gravel roads of country living. His family farmed a small plot of land, barely making enough money to survive to the next harvest. His father, Isaac, was a man who believed that he deserved more than his station allowed him to achieve. Isaac dealt with this problem by searching for his fortune at the bottom of a bottle of whiskey. On his better days, Isaac would be found passed out on the couch, with the warm glow of the CRT television softly dancing on the coarse stubble of his drunken face, his black hair resting over his closed bloodshot eyes. On his worst days, Isaac would be storming the house, looking for someone to take his anger at the world out on someone smaller than himself. That person was Alexander.
By Zachary Archer2 years ago in Fiction
Tales from Orasul
It was an hour after the last evening bell rang, we were called to the Lowroads, another creature on the loose. We grabbed our gear and made our way to the job site. By the time we got there, half the marketplace was in flames. A Firestarter maybe, or someone had been stockpiling illegal munitions in their stall. I wonder what stance the Church and politicians will take before another stall explodes, bringing my mind back to the matter at hand.
By Zachary Archer2 years ago in Fiction