Fantasy

The Trivial Story
Its been a few days, now it's the day of my wedding but I couldn't help but think what Eric was doing and what he wanted. As my maids were getting me dress is my wedding dress, I had this look of concern. My heart couldn't stop from what felt like it was going to come out of my chest. Everyone was loving the view of me in my wedding dress but I couldn't help that my mind was somewhere else.
By Manda Marie5 years ago in Fiction
A Trip to Heaven
I flew up to heaven today because I had been told it was God’s home. I looked around and saw some children playing hide and seek.
By Simran Kankas5 years ago in Fiction
What lies beneath
My father told me to never come back while my mother desperately begged me to stay. He said I wouldn't amount to anything as a nobody from a town in the middle of nowhere. But in my heart, I knew there was no other choice but to go out into the world to pursue my dream of being a protector mage for the royal castle. The only issue I didn't account for was leaving during the dead of winter.
By Aimee 5 years ago in Fiction
Atheria
I’ve always been that weird kid at school, always obsessed with fantasy stories and mystical worlds. Time after time, I’d let my mind drift and daydream about a better world, where I wouldn’t have such low self-esteem and be such an introvert. Since being a 14-year-old girl who still loves fantasy stories doesn’t exactly make you top of the popular list, I often get bullied and teased for it. Which over a long period of time has made it harder to open up to people. But I try not to let it get to me. Since I have something more important to focus on like my father’s birthday. He was a pilot for Dawn Wing which meant he often took the early shifts and I was often left alone in the mornings. This was good since it meant that I had more time on my hands to buy a father a present without him realising I was gone.
By Grace Gaebel5 years ago in Fiction
A Nameless Title
“You did this to yourself. You know that, right, Nameless?” the guard said through his bushy moustache as he walked next to his shackled prisoner. Nameless shrugged, both at his new title and at the accusation. Whether he did or not didn’t change the fact that he was here and there was nothing that he could do about it. Nameless merely reflected on his past life, each step manifesting a memory in his mind only to be replaced by a new one. They knew they were going to The Room of Sentences and Doors, or RSD to people who didn’t care to be so formal. The only sounds that filled the air were their two footsteps and the cling and clang of the shackles. Nameless imagined leaving a trail of memories in the shape of each step behind him, his feet imprinting a different memory with each footstep being left on the checkered-tiled floor. “Right?!” the guard barked as he jabbed the end of his polearm into Nameless’s back. A sharp pain shot through him on the outer shoulder blade and he inhaled sharply. “Right,” Nameless said through gritted teeth. “Good. Your acknowledgement means our system is working,” the guard said. Nameless was thankful to be slightly ahead of the guard lest his mild eyeroll might have provoked more physical compliance.
By Mycah Pollard5 years ago in Fiction
The Lost Hesperus
The full moon lights the shore as an old man staggers toward a tavern. He pushes open the door, falling to his knees in the entryway. A hush comes over the regular patrons. The barkeep rushes to the haggard man with an outstretched hand. He begins to pull it back as he takes a glance around the room. There is something unsettling about this man.
By Aria5 years ago in Fiction
The Prince
Prince Alexandru Ioan Cuza looked with narrowed eyes at the map that lay spread out below him on the table. His two hands were clenched in fists, the left resting on the border between Serbia, which belonged to the Ottoman Empire, and Walachia, the right on the Russian city of Kishinev, not far from the border of the Principality of Moldavia. Bucharest… Iași… The prince's eye travelled back and forth between the capitals of the two principalities he had united into the United Principalities of Moldavia and Walachia. Mihail Kogălniceanu, his closest adviser, was in the room with him. And as always when the prince was silent and had put on a look like this, Mihail knew that he would do well not to disturb him. What he didn't know was that the prince's mind was not on the revolution, as Mihail had assumed. The prince watched his realm from above, but instead of thinking of the tremendous tasks that lay ahead of him and his followers, his thoughts turned to the dream he had dreamed the night before and which left him no longer in peace. Restlessness had spread in him since those hours when he had awakened from the dream. A strange thought crossed his mind: had he woken at all? How could he be sure that he wasn't still dreaming? He frowned at the thought and turned his attention to the document on the table.
By Martin S.5 years ago in Fiction
Lilac Scented Dreams
Beep. beep. Beep. Ugh, what the hell? It’s Saturday. Why is my alarm going off? What time is it even? Turning to look at the increasingly annoying sound I see it is 10 am. Not too early at least, I just don’t remember setting it. I do have to pee though. I crawl out of bed trying not to wake up the cat. Dragging my feet to the bathroom, I look in the mirror and notice my hair is sticking straight up and my face has marks from sleeping.. “ ugh I’m awful.” Seeing someone walk past the bathroom in a hurry, I freak out. I look to see if anyone is here but alas it is just my mind playing tricks on me again. I went to a therapist and they said I don’t have schizophrenia, just my mind playing tricks.
By Kristina Brule5 years ago in Fiction
Go
“Liar!” I heard a voice say. My eyes snapped open. Actually it woke me up. It’s 3:31am. This is great. I’ll never get back to sleep now. Darkness pressed against the walls of her bedroom. The air felt thick, stale. For a moment I didn’t move. Then instinct took over. My hand slid across the nightstand, fingers brushing against a soft cardboard box.
By Violet Hamilton5 years ago in Fiction
The Witch’s Conundrum
1 | Gretchen had a problem. A big problem. She killed Gruber -- NOT on purpose mind you, but not exactly on accident. This was all his fault really. If he hadn’t told her (challenged her more like it) that she wasn’t skilled enough to make a potion that makes an old hag look young, then she would never have blasted him to pieces with her failed 53rd attempt. Let’s not discuss the fact that he was right and that it did not work; that’s beside the point.
By Krystle Lynn Rederer5 years ago in Fiction
A Short Tale of King William Chastaine
At the age of one-hundred and seventeen, the still stoic; white bearded King looked at the empty hall. It would be only hours until his oldest son, Sir Vallond Chastaine, would assume the role of ruler. The one-hundred-year war finally came to an end with the surrender of Chief Sorcerer Execs, by the blade of the king himself. Only a few weeks passed since that final battle against the rogue armies led by the misguided magi. The natural born magic users of the Northern Temples sought to end the peace of the lands by violence. Their motivations were mixed; some by religious means, some political, others were personal. All were deadly.
By Anthony Diaz5 years ago in Fiction
Wolf Within
CHAPTER FOUR The new day dawned warm and bright. As soon as the sun peeked over the horizon, Raoul was out of bed. He had bathed, dressed and eaten by the time the sun was fully over the horizon and still Dabria slumbered. Raoul sat beside her and brushed her hair away from her face. She looked pale and drawn.
By Wolf5 years ago in Fiction