0 Comments
0 Shares
1 Views
0 Reviews
Directory
Discover new ideas, create new connections and make new friends
-
Please log in to like, share and comment!
-
The Distant JokeThe banquet hall of the Old Stone Inn smelled of roasted lamb and damp wool. Candlelight flickered against the high vaulted ceiling, casting long, trembling shadows that danced like restless spirits. In the center of the long oak table sat Elias Thorne. He was a man carved from patience and silence, his face a map of deep lines etched by decades of walking roads that no longer existed. He did...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful MirrorThe rain in Ashford did not fall so much as it settled, a gray, persistent damp that soaked into the stone walls of the university and the bones of those who dwelled within them. It was the season when the oaks shed their last, rust-colored leaves, and the air smelled of wet earth and decay. Julian Vane sat in his study, a room that smelled of old paper and cold ash, staring at the mirror above...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden SuspectThe gavel did not fall with a crack, but with a sigh, a long, exhalation of wood against wood that seemed to pull the air from the chamber. Sir Julian Vane, High Warden of the Realm, sat at the high table, his fingers laced over the cold stone of the armrests. He was a man carved from the same granite as the fortress walls that loomed behind him, yet his face, in the slanting light of the high...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden MazeThe iron bit bites. You taste blood. The horse screams. You are mid-charge. The shield is up. The lance is broken. Dust. Mud. The smell of old iron. Your name is Captain Elias Thorne. You are a soldier. You are a cage. The courtyard is stone. The stones are wet. Rain. It starts. You stand in the center. The King stands on the balcony. High. The velvet is red. The red is too bright. It hurts....0 Comments 0 Shares 24 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded MasqueradeThe rain against the windows of the ancestral home was a relentless, rhythmic drumming that seemed to vibrate directly through the floorboards and into the soles of your shoes, a constant, wet pulse that you had long ago stopped hearing as sound and started feeling as a physical weight, a heavy, damp hand pressing down on your chest. You stood in the center of the grand hall, the air thick with...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale MeridianThe bell in the steeple of St. Jude’s did not ring; it tolled. It was a sound that seemed to carve the morning air, a sharp, metallic fracture in the stillness of the village. Elias Thorne stood at the edge of the churchyard, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his wool coat, feeling the cold seep through the fabric. He was a man of few words and fewer ambitions, a clerk in the municipal...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded RuinThe coat is on the hook. It is red. It was never red. You remember the wool. It was grey. It was the color of the fog that rolled in from the harbor every morning. It smelled of wet stone and stale tobacco. You wore it for ten years. It protected you from the cold. It protected you from the eyes of the men in the high towers. Now it is red. It is a deep, arterial red. You reach for it. Your...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden EchoesThe train window was a mirror that refused to hold your reflection, smudged by rain and the ghost of a thousand previous passengers’ breath. You pressed your forehead against the cold glass, the chill seeping into your skin, and watched the English countryside blur into a watercolor of gray and dull green. It was 11:45 AM. You had exactly fifteen minutes to reach the platform at Kings Cross,...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden DowntownThe hall is a throat of gold and velvet, swallowing the light until it glows like a bruise under skin. You stand at the edge of the dais, your hand resting on the pommel of a sword that has not tasted blood in a decade, feeling the weight of it not as a burden but as a bone, an extension of your own flesh that has grown too heavy for the world you have built. Around you, the court stirs, a sea...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek