0 Comments
0 Shares
41 Views
0 Reviews
Directory
Discover new ideas, create new connections and make new friends
-
Please log in to like, share and comment!
-
The Golden RitualI dreamed of a cathedral built of glass. It was not the stone of our parish, nor the brick of the university hall. It was a structure of pure, fractured light. The walls were not solid. They were panes, thin as ice, vibrating with a low, sustained hum. I stood at the center. The floor was black marble, polished to a mirror’s depth. I saw my reflection. It was old. It was tired. It was not...0 Comments 0 Shares 43 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden MirrorYou have always known that the ivy is watching you, but today it feels less like a plant and more like a judgment, its thick, green fingers creeping up the stone walls of the Old Palace with a slow, suffocating patience. You stand in the center of the Great Hall, the floor cold beneath your bare feet, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and something else, something metallic and ancient,...0 Comments 0 Shares 43 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden MazeThe rain did not fall so much as it pressed against the corrugated tin roof of the supply depot, a rhythmic, metallic drumming that masked the heavier sounds beneath. Elias Thorne stood in the center of the room, his back against the cold wall, his hands still wrapped in the white cotton bandages he had tied himself with trembling fingers. The air smelled of wet wool, stale coal smoke, and the...0 Comments 0 Shares 45 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded RootThe morning air in the Hall of Echoes tasted of iron and old rain. I stood by the window, watching the fog roll in from the valley below, thick and white as wool, swallowing the trees one by one. My uniform was clean, pressed by the hands of servants who no longer looked me in the eye, and the silver buttons on my chest caught the pale light. I was a Captain, or at least the papers said I was....0 Comments 0 Shares 45 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden CircuitThe letter sat on the table. It was written in ink that had dried to a rusty brown. The paper was thin. It felt like skin. Elara read it again. She had read it a hundred times. The words were simple. They were cold. You are guilty, it said. The Court has decided. You must leave. You must take the gold. You must wear it. You must not return. Elara folded the paper. Her hands shook. The room was...0 Comments 0 Shares 46 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded ApartmentThe rain was not falling so much as it was being dragged down by the weight of the city itself, a gray, sludge-like curtain that smeared the windows of the fourth-floor walkup where Elias Thorne sat with his back against the radiator, his service pistol resting on his knee like a sleeping dog. He was not looking at the door, though he knew the door was the only thing that mattered. He was...0 Comments 0 Shares 46 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden MazeElias held the key. It was iron. It was cold. It bit his palm. He had not slept. The dream was thick. The air tasted of wet stone and old blood. He walked. His boots were heavy. They dragged on the mud. The mud was black. It sucked at his ankles. He could not free them. He could not stop. The castle rose before him. It was not a castle. It was a mouth. The stones were teeth. The windows were...0 Comments 0 Shares 43 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant BladeThe rain did not fall so much as it hung, a suspended gray curtain that blurred the edges of the city into a watercolor smear of slate and iron. Elias Vane stood on the balcony of his fourth-floor apartment, watching the water bead on the glass railing, each droplet a tiny, distorted lens refracting the neon glow of the street below. He was a man composed of quiet habits and heavy silences, a...0 Comments 0 Shares 44 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant WhispersThe frost did not merely settle upon the panes of the iron lung; it ate them. It was a cold that had weight, a physical substance that pressed against the skin of the world, turning the air into a brittle, gray thing. Inside the ward, the air was thick with the smell of lye and wet wool and the metallic tang of blood that had long since dried into the pores of the floorboards. Marguerite stood...0 Comments 0 Shares 44 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek