Fantasy
"Echoes of the Battlefield". AI-Generated.
The wind howled through the broken windows of what used to be a school. Bullet holes riddled the chalkboard, and scorched desks lay overturned across the floor. In the middle of it all stood Captain Elias Ward, rifle slung over his shoulder, staring at the remnants of a child’s drawing on the wall — a house, a sun, and stick-figure smiles. It wasn’t always like this. Two years ago, the Republic still stood tall, proud and unbroken. Cities hummed with life, and Elias, then a teacher, taught history to restless children who doodled in the margins of their notebooks. He had no desire for war. But when the regime from the North crossed the border, turning towns to rubble, his pen was no longer enough. The government called for every able-bodied citizen to fight. Elias answered. Now, the man who once taught lessons about wars past had become a weapon in a war of the present. He turned away from the drawing as Sergeant Rana approached, her face smeared with soot and worry. “They’re regrouping by the river,” she said, voice low. “Drones spotted a convoy heading our way. We have maybe an hour.” Elias nodded. “Evacuate the wounded. Hide the supplies. We hold them here.” “They outnumber us,” she replied quietly. “We make them pay for every inch.” --- The sun was beginning to set, casting a blood-red glow over the shattered town of Kersin. Soldiers moved in silence. Some prayed. Some smoked. Others stared at photographs from a life they feared they’d never return to. Elias checked on each of them, offering what little encouragement he could. At the far end of the ruined main street, Private Kellan, just nineteen, was setting up a makeshift barricade. Elias crouched beside him. “You ever see combat before this?” he asked. Kellan shook his head. “Joined last month. Didn’t think it’d be like this.” “It never is,” Elias said. “But you’re here. You’re ready. That’s what counts.” In the distance, the sound of engines roared. “They’re coming,” someone whispered. --- The first wave hit just after dusk. Enemy troops poured into the streets like a black tide, backed by armored trucks and drones buzzing overhead. Gunfire shattered the silence. Rockets screamed through the air, lighting the night in orange and red. Elias fought from the front, his rifle barking with deadly rhythm. He moved like a ghost between ruins, shouting orders, dragging the wounded to cover. Around him, comrades fell — some screaming, some in eerie silence. Sergeant Rana held the western flank, her squad barely holding under pressure. Smoke filled the air, thick and choking. Every breath burned. Hours passed. Then came the second wave. A wall of fire crashed through their defenses. Elias felt the ground shudder as a nearby building exploded, sending debris flying. A shard of metal tore across his cheek. He wiped the blood away and kept moving. By midnight, they had retreated to the town square. Of the 120 soldiers who had held Kersin, fewer than 30 remained. “Fall back to the tunnels,” Rana said, limping. “We can regroup beneath the chapel.” Elias looked around. The square was filled with the dead and dying. But the flag of the Republic still fluttered above the courthouse. If they left now, the enemy would claim the town. He hesitated. Then nodded. “Go. I’ll hold the line.” “You’ll die.” “Maybe. But not today.” --- Elias fought alone for the next twenty minutes. He ducked behind fallen statues, sniping advancing soldiers with ruthless precision. He remembered each of his students as he fired. Clara with her science projects. Milo who loved planes. Their faces gave him strength. Eventually, silence fell. And then — footsteps. He raised his weapon, heart pounding. But it was Kellan, face pale, dragging a wounded comrade. “I couldn’t leave you, sir.” Elias wanted to argue. But he just nodded. Together, they lit the final charge — a trap laid beneath the square. As the enemy flooded into the center, Elias gave the signal. Flames erupted, swallowing tanks and soldiers alike. The ground shook violently. Then — silence. Smoke curled skyward. Elias and Kellan, coughing and burned, fled into the tunnels beneath the chapel. --- Three days later, reinforcements arrived. The enemy had retreated. Kersin was saved — for now. Elias sat on the chapel steps, his arm in a sling. Rana sat beside him, silent. “We lost too many,” he said. “We held the town,” she replied. “That means something.” He looked around. The flag still waved. Civilians were returning. A child walked past, dragging a broken toy tank. “It means everything,” Elias whispered. --- One Year Later The war dragged on, but Kersin remained free. Elias returned to his old classroom, rebuilding what had been lost. The bullet holes had been plastered over, the desks repaired. He now taught a new generation — not just of history, but of hope. Of what it meant to fight not for revenge, but for the right to live free. Sometimes, in the quiet moments, he still heard echoes of the battlefield. Screams, explosions, the weight of loss. But he kept teaching. Because in the end, war is not just about fighting. It’s about remembering why you must never stop fighting for peace.
By "TaleAlchemy"about a year ago in Fiction
Queen of the Hollow Crown. Content Warning.
Read the first story here: The Thief of Shadows I: The First Rebellion The dead moved differently now. Lirael saw it in the way the shades paused mid-wail when she passed, their hollow eyes tracking her with something sharper than fear. The obsidian floors, once cold enough to burn bare flesh, now warmed beneath her footsteps like stones left in afternoon sun. Even the air had changed—thick with the scent of overripe figs and the metallic tang of freshly unearthed grave soil.
By The Lost Books - "Libri Perditi"about a year ago in Fiction
The Thief of Shadows. Content Warning.
I: The Heist in Hell The air in the Underworld didn’t move like air should. It clung, thick as funeral shrouds, pressing against Lirael’s skin with the weight of centuries of held breaths. The path before her twisted like a gutted serpent, paved not with stone but with the petrified bones of oath-breakers, their hollow eye sockets weeping black ichor that sizzled where it touched her boots.
By The Lost Books - "Libri Perditi"about a year ago in Fiction
The Hollow and the Hungry Ghost. Content Warning.
I. The Wrong Door Opened Mirelle's fingers trembled as she lit the thirteenth candle. The church basement reeked of mildew and old incense, the perfect place to cheat death. She'd come to speak to her sister—just once, just long enough to say the words she'd left unsaid the day the fever took her.
By The Lost Books - "Libri Perditi"about a year ago in Fiction
Rise Beyond: The Journey to a Life of True Success
In a competitive, expectation-driven, noise-driven world, the word success has a thousand faces. It's money to some, prestige or power to others. But look beneath the surface of what the world counts as success, and you'll find that genuine success is a whole lot more personal—and a whole lot deeper.
By Muhammad Sohailabout a year ago in Fiction
The Lightning Code (2025) Review: A Teen Sci-Fi Adventure Sparked by Tesla’s Legacy
In a cinematic world often saturated with reboots, remakes, and predictable superhero sagas, The Lightning Code arrives as a breath of fresh, electrified air. Released on May 9, 2025, and directed by Kali Bailey, the film introduces a compelling blend of teenage ambition, historical mystery, and the ever-relevant clash between innovation and exploitation.
By Kevin Hudsonabout a year ago in Fiction
Faceless Night [Part 4-ending].. Content Warning.
*** (At three-thirty in the morning). The conversation between two bodies was still ongoing among their peacefully sleeping children. It was about longing, "all because of your spell, oh female fish, that the sea water doesn't taste salty!", "you stupid male cat, you might never realize it, if you keep curling up in the corner of the suffocating alleys of your hometown, if you never cross the blue ocean. That your pearl-like eyes hold the wonders of the sky during the full moon...(the man flinched as he touched his blind eyes)...Yes, because of your eyes reflecting the full moon, my underwater kingdom that night became strange, no longer salty, but like a swimming pool owned by city people. So, I emerged to the surface, searching for you, finding you stranded, hungry and thirsty. Until you fell in love with my half-human body and flesh...(the two naked bodies rubbed against each other more tightly)...Only then did I darken the full moon with my cloudy magic. Making it sink before its time. You roared to wake up your wild side wanting to pounce on me, but what could you do, you were just a stranded black cat and already blind. And I am the princess of the blue ocean, because the foams of the waves are my urine. Until you wait for the return of another full moon in hunger, loneliness, darkness... The sky remained true to its promise. The girl and Gilang were getting deeper into their sleep, sheltered by the light of the full moon hanging in a quarter of the sky in the east. Both were still lying on their wet t-shirts and pants...you were so loyal to wait until the full moon returns. But you never knew what you were actually waiting for and what was waiting for you. That night, the second full moon of our encounter, with all the blessings of my blue sea, I transformed into a virgin girl. For the first time, my lungs breathed the air just like you did, my feet stepped on the grains of sand just like you did. Thus, that night I received my curse. Then, you tore apart every curve of my body in the form of a black cat, just like you tore apart a flopping fresh fish on the beach. You licked every pore of my body that was no longer scaly. I allowed it for the sake of the sea that was no longer salty because of your eyes. Eyes that would soon be blind, blinded by the lust that claimed to be love. Until I truly began to love you that night. The love of a fish for a black cat. A love that was actually just an escape from my fear of the ocean water that you turned into freshwater... (At four o'clock in the morning) Gilang woke up after being bitten by a mosquito, only to be startled by two naked bodies piled up next to his younger sibling, his mother and a blind man he didn't know. Gilang closed his eyes again, pretending to still be asleep... Then you are cursed to be my husband's human... "Gilang (in his mind): Father...?" ...after I cursed myself first to become a woman... "Gilang (sobbing in his mind): They are demons, my sibling and I are demon offspring.!!!" The child was startled by the reality, crying and screaming when suddenly the world turned dark. But he didn't recognize his own screams
By Shafa Ichwanusabout a year ago in Fiction
The Walls I Built Around Love
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been afraid. Afraid of loving too deeply, afraid of giving too much of myself, and afraid of the inevitable hurt that always seems to follow. It’s strange because I long for connection, crave it even, but at the same time, I fear it. Every time I get close to someone, I feel this invisible wall go up inside me, and I wonder if they can feel it too. The tension between wanting love and fearing it has been a battle I’ve fought with myself for years.
By Aima Charleabout a year ago in Fiction
The trial
The dwarf tied the hands of the human creature behind it, keeping hold of the end of the rope. They started to walk at a fast pace. Crossing the forest at night was not easy. The dwarf was carrying a small lamp. They had to reach the Witch’s castle before midnight. Then, the expected trial would begin.
By Susan Fourtané about a year ago in Fiction
