Celebrating the fantastical. Let your imagination run wild.
The Guardian In old Norse folklore it was said that Freyja was the Goddess Of Many things. She was the Goddess of War, fertility, death and magic but above all she was the Goddess of Love and with that came the ability to look into the future. It was said that Freyja ruled over Valhalla with Odin and each of them received half of the souls that have fallen in battle.
A cool breeze set in just above the little lake, sitting below the jagged mountain looming above. The sun setting the world ablaze with colors rarely seen in the sky, brilliant purples, deep reds, hot oranges and bright yellows. A fishing pole bobbing just slightly above the water in the day's fishing sweetspot. The pole and line jolted down into the water snapping Naby out of a serious daze. She began her attempt at reeling the fish in, fighting hard the pole strained hard. “Damn it! This has to be the biggest fish this pond has ever seen!” Naby whispered to herself. The girls hair black as midnight, her hazel eyes tense preparing to rip this fish from the depths of the lake.
Blinded by the light of what he could be, he had to turn his senses towards the shadows… Talib rose out of bed late in the afternoon; sometimes he would wake up and lay in bed for hours, trying to remember his dreams…but this particular morning, he woke only to his fantasies of “Living The Good Life” and a few minutes of social media scrolling.
This is the recorded case study of magical tattoo 2497071 – The Barn Owl. First recorded by the Documancer Natwun upon joining a party with a goliath. It was said this goliath, K’Lun, had followed the ancestral teachings of her clan in the path of the beasts. This is a copy of his records:
06 August 2009 - Thursday - Journal Entry 9:02 pm I thought it would be a good idea to start recording my day down here in this journal. I heard that journaling helps people with anxiety and can maybe help me understand my emotions better. I plan to also doodle a bit in here. I feel it will help me express myself better. This journaling thing will probably also help me with discipline as I plan to journal every night right before bed.
This path does not have an ending, the walk is the purpose. I continue to tell myself this as I trudge up the mountainside on my way to the “Entrance of the Guardian Realm.” Yeah, probably thinking the same thing I did after hearing that name – presumptuous much?
The darkened sky poured moonlight onto the forest floor below as Elorea crashed through the undergrowth of tangled plants and vines, swinging the blade she’d been taught to use by her father many years ago.
Not a lot of people know this about me, but I only look like a human. Say, if a friend were to come over to my home, she'd be greeted with a picture of an ordinary family: a mom, a dad, and me, an average 17 year old boy. Many of my friends have visited this summer, and the moment they leave, my dad can't help but chime in about what a good show we put on. Truth is, mom and dad are decoys. My real parents are...
Eabha’s bones groaned as she struggled to her feet from underneath the dozens of furs piled high over her to protect her from the cruel winter air. Eabha glared to her right past her nose through her one good eye at the few embers still smoking in the hearth. Her small dingy hut illuminated a smoky abyssal blue, the frost creeping inwardly at Cailleach’s decree.
The Owl. By M.Olbrecht Jon Howard grinned with pride as the majestic creature took flight. The owl circled the inside of the vast old barn twice before taking a wobbly landing on the edge of an old dented wooden table next to where Howard stood arms crossed. The owl straightened its stance on the table and shook its still slightly sore left wing. Howard lovingly caressed the wing. “You healed beautifully, still a little shaky, but I think that’s mostly nerves.”
It had been a long swim. Cassandra Tomtin was finalizing the last leg of her nightly 40 mile perimeter sweep on the lookout for any last vulnerable prey. The temperature had drastically dropped in the last ten miles but Cassie hadn’t felt it, numbed by routine. She also didn’t feel the escalation of the current, which had little impact on her sleek placoid scales and 2000 pounds of pure muscle, but she did feel a twinge of discomfort snake along the 10 inch scar on her right side. It prompted a clouded memory which momentarily softened the icebox around her heart, but she instantly shook it off, and continued the last mile stretch in complete focus, before dropping to the depths of the ocean floor and retiring to partial awareness, softly floating in a deep sleep.
“So, this is how I die?” Those were the last words I uttered to myself. No flashbacks. No inner peace. There was just an overwhelming sense of dread combined with a forced acceptance of my inevitable passing.