Adventure
Shadows of the Last Light
Rhia pressed against a graffiti-stained wall as her breath echoed down the deserted alley. The last rays of a dying sun painted the crumbling skyscrapers in bruised purple shadows. Neon signs sputtered overhead, flickering across rust and overgrown vines. In her trembling hand, she clutched a glowing data crystal. For a moment she felt alone, yet holding the crystal felt like a spark of resistance against the night. With every heartbeat, the city felt alive with danger.
By Muhammad Sohailabout a year ago in Fiction
The Watcher of Dusk Rock
Somewhere off the North Atlantic coast, where the sea carves whispers into the stone cliffs, stands Dusk Rock Lighthouse. For nearly seventy years, it’s been abandoned—no keepers, no ships, no records. The locals say the last man who lived there vanished, leaving his light burning for three nights after he was gone.
By Muhammad Sohailabout a year ago in Fiction
Dodge Tanner’s Highly Unrecommended Travelogue - #94 Water Lions: A Masterclass in Tactical Regret
The day had started well enough. By which I mean, I had not yet been hunted by an aquatic apex predator. But, as fate (or my terrible decision-making skills) would have it, that peace was not to last.
By Canyon Cappola (TheNomad)about a year ago in Fiction
Dodge Tanner’s Highly Unrecommended Travelogue - #127: The Worst Salad Ever
With wide, dazzled eyes, Dodge stared at the small pile of glittering gemstones nestled in the heart of the jungle clearing, the map on which he was carefully charting landmarks forgotten in his grasp.
By Canyon Cappola (TheNomad)about a year ago in Fiction
Dodge vs. the Relentless Tyranny of Gainful Employment
Dodge loved his job. Sometimes. When it didn’t require effort, discomfort, or leaving his house. Teaching was where it was at! And by 'Teaching', Dodge meant letting people read his book and leave him alone. Unfortunately, the Wayfinders' Guild had a very different interpretation of what being a Wayfinder actually meant
By Canyon Cappola (TheNomad)about a year ago in Fiction
The Last Library
The world ended not with a bang, but with a slow, persistent silence. Fifty years ago, the Great Forgetting began. It wasn’t a war or a virus—just... loss. People woke up not remembering their names. Entire histories faded from minds, cultures collapsed not from conflict, but from erasure. No one knew why. It was as if knowledge itself had slipped through the cracks of human thought.
By Ashley Anthonyabout a year ago in Fiction
The Clockmaker’s Heir
The bell over the door tinkled with a sound as delicate as a whisper, despite its rusted spring and age. Elliot Travers stepped into the clock shop his grandfather had owned for nearly sixty years, inhaling the scent of varnished wood, oil, and time. It hadn’t changed in the two decades since he’d last visited as a boy—though the man who once stood behind the counter, stooped and grinning, was now gone.
By Ashley Anthonyabout a year ago in Fiction
The Meeting
The city was slick with rain — the kind that clings to your coat and blurs the edges of the night. Neon signs bled their colours into puddles, flickering like restless ghosts on wet asphalt. The smell of damp concrete mixed with exhaust fumes, hanging heavy in the air like a warning. I kept my eyes on the road, but my mind tuned into the quiet tension resting heavy in the backseat.
By Bentley Brownabout a year ago in Fiction
Razello and the Crystal of Aranthor Part 3:The Demon's Sorrow
The world was on the mend. Following Razello and his friends' victory over King Malgron, light flooded back into the lands. Windermoor flourished, the forests once again filled with song, and joy resonated in its streets. Yet, deep underground, in the darkness where sunlight had never shone, a feeling of sorrow began to stir—ancient, twisted, and rife with hatred.
By Sartaz Awalabout a year ago in Fiction
