Fantasy
LOST CITY
LOST CITY: Which is a Witch Now where did we leave off at. Hmm. That’s right Nimue and Niam were just starting to read the Malleus Maleficarum, hoping to determine the amount of potential danger their family may be in. With the new lander beliefs having infiltrated the land the Waymakers way of living was now under speculation and perhaps even believed to be witchcraft. This is the part of the story that always caught my attention when mama would tell it. The suspense of how the Waymakers manage always has me sitting on the edge of my chair. So, let’s get on with the story.
By Greylee Tynewise5 years ago in Fiction
The Realm of the Fey
“Hey, watch it, kid!” The townsman dusted off his front as I pushed past him, shooting me a sneer of disgust. I didn’t falter and kept up my pace, shimmying through the packed streets of the village of Abdalla. I followed the curve of the cobbled stone path until we came upon the bakery, and I struggled out of the flow, irritating most in my path.
By Katelyn Hunt5 years ago in Fiction
The Lighthouse at the End of the World
Most people never questioned what was at the end of the world. They were too busy surviving their personal problems to even think about exploring the furthest extensions of the earth. Plus, most people believed that everything had already been explored and discovered, and there was no mystery left out there to find. I was relieved that there were not many brave ones. That way, there were less to kill. But, for the few reckless and passionate explorers, we had a plan on how to quietly get rid of them, and it revolved around me.
By Natalie Spack5 years ago in Fiction
Lost Souls
Lila had never thought of cemeteries as frightening spaces. To her they had always felt tranquil, like quiet sculpture gardens where one could contemplate the brevity of existence. They had a certain somber energy that lingered in the memorial wreaths and mementos left by loved ones, but nothing that felt dark or dangerous to her. The newspaper headlines were a stark reminder that the dead were far less dangerous than the living.
By Christine Nelson5 years ago in Fiction
The Pond of Mirrors
* Asher* "Where am I?" I ask as I stumble through a strange forest riddled with snow and icicles. I look around to ask someone for help but there isn't a single living thing as far as the eye can see. "Asssshhheeerrr.....Asher, come here Asher...." I hear a familiar voice call out to me in the wind.
By Kayanna Hansen5 years ago in Fiction
Our King
I have finally been given the task of completing our history. I was first given this task during the final war, however since I was in charge while the king had recently gone through the emerald door, there was no time for such things. Now all these have come to pass and peace once again is upon us, now I know you find my words off, for as all you know, we have had peace since the last kings were defeated. All things will be clear. we are now in peace and as far as can be seen, there will never be war again. So in comfort and peace of body and mind, I write the history of all things that have come to pass to bring about this great age and to write how it was our king's relentless vision that has made these things possible. In essence, it is the story of our king. Let us begin, our king was born in slavery on the western continent. There are 2 continents the east and west, each one is broken up into provinces 35 in the east .42 in the west. Each continent has a great king that rules the whole continent, and he has leaders and armies that rule each province in his name.
By Johnny Gerbrandt5 years ago in Fiction
The Garden Guardian
Violet stared gloomily at the emerald blur of ferns and cedars racing past the car window. Every so often, she flicked her eyes to her mother, Margaret, in the driver’s seat. Though lively and sparkling green in the past, Margaret’s eyes were now blank and hollow as they focused on the road. Violet knew that her own eyes carried a similar look; it was one month on the day since her father and Margaret’s husband, Pat, had suddenly died from a heart attack.
By Lucy Arnold5 years ago in Fiction
Drops of Blood and Sunshine
Drops of Blood and Sunshine It was a perfect 75 degree day with a cool breeze. I had finally decided to take advantage of the small patch of dirt near my door situated in full sunlight. I began digging around to get rid of rocks and debris, throwing them to a shadier area. I went back into my home to retrieve the few small pots of pre-grown marigolds. They were perky, moist, and ready for their new home. I had a bad track record of killing off plants but decided maybe I would have better luck with ones that were already fairly mature. I knelt down on the grass and began the process of gently twisting the potted flower back and forth to dislodge it from its pot. I used my trowel to move the dirt out of the way and hit something sharp. I didn’t have a pair of gardening gloves so I just reached in trying to shake loose whatever I had hit. Turned out it was a bottle that had been buried there and in my excitement I had broken it. I felt the bite of hitting glass and immediately withdrew my hands. I put my hand into my mouth seeing the cut that looked like a smile start to form. “Damn,” I thought, “should have gotten gloves.” I figured I would hurry up and pot this marigold first then run inside and get something to help with the bleeding. A few drops of blood made contact with the bloom and dirt but it wasn’t painful so I dug the plant in opting to leave the bottle in place. It was deep enough down so I didn’t think it was an issue. I go up after making my new golden friend comfortable but what I hadn’t noticed was that the bloom had shuddered a bit. Had I seen that then the next events may not have been such a surprise.
By Christina Holmes5 years ago in Fiction
Three Moments of Twilight
It was a day like any other for Lily, which was unlike any day for anyone else. She sat at the edge of the meadow, surrounded by tall grasses and wildflowers. To her right was the empty meadow, to her left were several oak trees. Today, as was every day, she brought a basket of cut marigolds from her garden. She had spread them around in a circle and sat comfortably in the centre. Lily placed a few marigold flowers in her curly blond hair and on the lace trim of her pale dress.
By Tara Crowley5 years ago in Fiction
The City of Eternal Light
Naraiah had been walking for quite some time, she thought to herself. She vaguely remembered passing that distinctly large patch of moss about 5 minutes ago, but she was surrounded by patches of moss of all sizes, so it was really anyone's guess. She sighed, letting out a small cloud of steam that gently made its way through the crisp October air. She had just moved to Gresham this past summer, and she has been revelling in the beautiful scenery. Her favorite place to hike as of late has been the rainy daydreamers paradise they call Oxbow Park. Before this, she had spent her whole adolescent life nestled in a small suburb in the midwest. Her life began flashing before her eyes slowly, but although slow moving, the emotion was coming at her like a tsunami. She closed her eyes tight and shook her head. She balled up her fists and finally rid herself of her past again. It had a tendency to creep up on the most in opportune moments. But that was then, this year things were different. Naraiah made sure of it.
By Seminole Fraley5 years ago in Fiction
