Classical
The Art of Self-Love
In the heart of urban Mumbai, amidst the bustling streets and vibrant life, lived Aakash. A successful software engineer by day and a painter by night, Aakash had everything that seemed perfect from the outside. Yet, inside, he was constantly battling a sense of emptiness and an insatiable need for validation.
By Tales by J.J.2 years ago in Fiction
The Echoes of Father's Love
In a cozy house nestled in the heart of Mumbai, a young girl named Ayesha grew up surrounded by love and laughter. Ayesha, the youngest of three sisters, was her parents' precious jewel. She was especially close to her Abbu, Imran, whose presence in her life was like a warm, constant embrace. Every Sunday, Imran would take Ayesha and her sisters, Zara and Noor, for delightful picnics in the nearby park.
By Tales by J.J.2 years ago in Fiction
SOARING ABOVE, ROOTED BELOW: EMBRACING OUR GIFTS
Once upon a time, in a vibrant village nestled between lush green fields and shimmering streams, there lived two brothers—Fowl, a sturdy chicken, and Dove, a graceful bird. They were not just brothers by birth; they were the best of friends, sharing laughter and dreams as they explored the countryside together. Every day brought new adventures, filled with discoveries that sparked their imaginations.
By Sam Jethro 2 years ago in Fiction
The Journey to My Wife's Heart
Three years ago, if you’d asked me, "Can you cook?" my answer would’ve been a sheepish, “Umm... I can make Maggie” And even that was hit or miss—either overcooked or too watery. Life was simple and uncomplicated until I got married.
By Tales by J.J.2 years ago in Fiction
THE HEART OF THE JUNGLE; THE ROAR OF THE TRUE KING
In a time long before humans roamed the earth, the jungle was a vast and vibrant expanse filled with a rich tapestry of creatures. Towering trees stretched high into the sky, their branches forming a lush canopy that filtered sunlight onto the forest floor. Colorful birds flitted about, chattering cheerfully, while small animals scurried through the underbrush, each playing their part in the great circle of life.
By Sam Jethro 2 years ago in Fiction
The Return
The river ran backwards on the day the queen vanished. Salmon, previously swimming against the current to spawn, confused, turned and swam the other way. In the bright forest, leaves drifted upwards, eddied by small currents of wind as startled deer, squirrel, and other wildlife froze in place, lifting noses or beaks in an effort to sniff out the source of danger. Furred, tufted, and feathered ears tilted to listen. Almost as one, thousands of eyes turned toward the hill where sat Castle Cardomom.
By Andrew C McDonald2 years ago in Fiction
The Queen's Absence
The river ran backwards on the day the Queen vanished. That was not the strangest part of the day. One of the Queen's handmaidens was a daughter of the sea-god, after all, and water reacted to her emotions. Pelegia - all of the Royal handmaidens, really - got twitchy when the Queen was endangered.
By Natasja Rose2 years ago in Fiction
A Tale of Fire and Water: The Forbidden Love Story of the Sea Queen and the Fire Prince
A Tale of Fire and Water: The Forbidden Love Story of the Sea Queen and the Fire Prince In a world where powerful elemental realms rule in balance, the love story of Nerina, Queen of the Sea, and Kaelen, the Fire Prince, has become the stuff of legends. It is a tale that speaks of the impossible, a love that defied not only their kingdoms but the very nature of their beings. Here, we dive into the rich lore of this mythical romance, exploring the origins, trials, and sacrifices that defined their bond. The Kingdoms of Sea and Fire The Kingdom of the Sea and the Empire of Flames were two of the oldest realms, each with its distinct power and influence. The Sea Kingdom, ruled by Nerina, was a world of flowing waters, vast coral cities, and oceanic mysteries. The creatures of the deep answered to her command, and her people revered her for her wisdom and compassion. She was a queen of serene beauty, her long hair flowing like waves, her eyes reflecting the depths of the ocean. Under her rule, the seas were a place of harmony, where even the fiercest storms bowed to her command.
By Say the truth 2 years ago in Fiction
The Last Whisper
The Wind carried a soft, haunting whisper through the old village, as though a voice long forgotten had returned for its final words. That evening, as the mist thickened around the cliffs, young Marlowe found an envelope wedged between the bricks of his grandfather's cottage—one with his name, but written decades before he was even born. --- Marlowe Hughes had always loved the hidden corners of the seaside village his family called home. Cragmore, with its weathered stone cottages, ghostly mists, and old lighthouse, held a quiet allure, a feeling that something in its ancient streets had never truly left. But after his grandfather passed, Marlowe returned to the village only to settle the estate, packing away fragments of a man who rarely spoke of his past. On his last night, after hours of sorting through dust-covered trinkets, Marlowe stepped outside for air. That’s when he noticed a faint glimmer near the ivy-covered corner of the house—a thin envelope wedged tightly between the stones. When he pried it free, Marlowe froze; it was addressed to him. Yet something was wrong: the handwriting was his grandfather’s, but the ink was faded, and the paper was brittle, as though written decades ago. --- Inside the envelope lay a single note, cryptic yet urgent: "Follow the lighthouse beam when the clock strikes midnight. The truth lies within the shadows it casts." The words sent chills down Marlowe’s spine, stirring memories of his grandfather’s distant gaze each time the lighthouse beam swept over the village at night. No one ever seemed to know what he was looking for—or hiding from. Marlowe glanced at his watch. Just five minutes to midnight. --- He made his way to the cliffside, the lighthouse standing tall against the inky sky. Its light pulsed in rhythm, washing over him, illuminating a jagged path carved into the rock—a path he had never seen before. As he followed it, shadows played tricks with his mind, but he pressed on until he reached the base of the lighthouse. There, in the glow of the beam, he saw an inscription carved into the stone: "Some secrets never die, Marlowe. And some echoes are never silenced." Just then, he heard the softest sound—a whisper, as if from behind him. Marlowe spun around, but the darkness was silent. Yet, when he looked back at the stone, a new line had appeared beneath the inscription. His heart raced as he read the words: "She knows you're here." --- From that night forward, Marlowe would always wonder if he had met the truth—or if it had met him.
By Mohammad Hussaib2 years ago in Fiction
