Fantasy
Echoes of the Verdant Guardians
In the heart of the Whispering Woods, where the trees murmured secrets to the wind and ancient magic permeated the air, lay the sacred grove of Verdant Guardians. These towering sentinels, with bark as old as time itself, were the stewards of the forest, bound by an ancient pact to protect the delicate balance of nature.
By Syed Arbaz Ali Rizvi3 years ago in Fiction
Bloodline's Burden
In the heart of a realm shrouded in mist and mystery, there existed a bloodline cursed by an ancient pact made in desperation. The Sablethorne family had long borne the weight of this curse, their lineage plagued by misfortune and sorrow. Generations had passed since the curse's inception, and yet, its tendrils continued to weave through the lives of the descendants.
By M.Kamran Shaukat3 years ago in Fiction
Chrono's Odyssey
In the heart of a world woven with the threads of time, where past, present, and future converged in a delicate dance, there lived a young traveler named Chrono. Born with a gift—or perhaps a curse—that allowed him to manipulate the very fabric of time, Chrono's life was a tapestry of moments, each thread woven with the echoes of the past and the whispers of the future.
By M.Kamran Shaukat3 years ago in Fiction
Immerwald. Top Story - March 2024. Content Warning.
Standing so still that one might think it was a tree, the Voice of the Immerwald glared at the Ambassador. The glare was felt, not seen. Its eyeless wooden mask betraying nothing, but it tore into anyone on whom the gaze turned. Like a spile driven into their souls, drawing out fear and guilt that pooled on the floor around their feet.
By Alexander McEvoy3 years ago in Fiction
The Weaver of Truths
A towing whispering and tricky construct town Elyria was. Lures of this kind of melodramatic fraud, as damaging as magic, were spreading everywhere around. Entrepreneurs piled up stuff that had nothing to do with realities, orators constructed speeches which were lying, and even a warm welcome was delivered with a somebody's secret assignment. And in this world truth is a thing which has been forgotten. It is like a ghost which was forgotten long ago and now left only as a refrain of a forgotten poem in the corners of libraries.
By Ishraq Ahmed Hashmi3 years ago in Fiction
The Night Everything Vanished
Sofia was a busy university student who never had time to tidy her wardrobe. Instead of neatly hanging her clothes, she'd often toss them around. Even though she had a lot of clothes, she always ended up wearing the same few outfits. She didn't realize her clothes were unhappy with her careless behaviour.
By Ameer Bibi3 years ago in Fiction
Black Jungle
Black Jungle I thought I had seen the worst thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Young as I may be, I’ve combed the tired beach of my home of a freshly lost battle, washing to shore for coin to eat off of. How appalling it was to watch a coach run in flames, the owner’s whereabouts unknown, locked to two exhausted horses, choosing a cliff to fix their unfortunate circumstances. Take today. I came across the heads of former comrades posted at the entrance to the fork side that I wished I had time to look closer at before trying to lose my pursuers. That I did, if not immediately on the reputation of the path of Noir Libertalia, the three that stayed on my horse’s ass dropped out in screams faster than I can swear I’m going. Trees creaked like they were discovering applause as I tried not to consider that some of those branches were bones. And I must admit that the severed foot that landed in my lap, boot slid away before the foot; the worst thing I’ve ever smelled, of course. No. The worst thing I’ve seen was a minute ago, which was my horse’s ass shitting itself, fading into the fog-laced trees without me. Lost in the coldest part of the night; what a night my thievery has led me into?!
By Willem Indigo3 years ago in Fiction
Devil's Bargain
Screaming, Knell fell to her knees, her left hand stretched out with her right on the holy symbol on her side. She whispers prayers to the Light, begging and pleading for him to spare her partner whose body lies broken before her. Tears stream down her face– the Light’s will is not in it. Shrieking in frustration, she put down her hand as the light faded from Faden’s eyes. Weeping, she collapsed beside him, her head on his chest. She questioned why he had done it– why did he give his life to spare her? He had saved her, her idiot hero. Knell lay there for a long time on the side of the road at a crossroads to Salvayne.
By S.N. Evans3 years ago in Fiction
