0 Comments
0 Shares
0 Views
0 Reviews
Directory
Discover new ideas, create new connections and make new friends
-
Please log in to like, share and comment!
-
The Distant PromiseThe fog did not lift. It thickened. It pressed against the shutters of the bakery like a living thing, a grey skin that refused to peel away. Elias stood at the counter. The dough was cold. It had been cold for three days. He did not touch it. He watched it. The yeast was dead. Or perhaps it was sleeping. It was hard to tell the difference in a place like this. The air tasted of iron and old...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale MistThe rain did not fall so much as it hung, a suspended gray veil that turned the window of the precinct’s third-floor observation room into a mirror of fractured light and shadow. I sat with my hands clasped, the knuckles white, listening to the silence that had grown too loud in my ears, a static hum that seemed to emanate from the very walls of the institution we called home. It was a Tuesday,...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant JokeThe road was not a road at all, but a ribbon of grey stone unspooled across a landscape that defied the geometry of the known world. Elara walked it with the weary, rhythmic gait of someone who had walked many such roads, though this one was the first to feel like a wound in the air. Beside her, on the back of a mule that breathed in slow, deliberate pulls, sat her brother, Thomas. He was...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale MeridianThe fire took the roof before the sun rose. I remember the smell first. Not smoke, but something sharper. Like burnt sugar. Like the inside of an oven that has been left too long. I was in the cellar. I had been in the cellar for three days. I was waiting for the debt collector. I was waiting for the end. My name is Elias Thorne. I am a sinner. I am a prisoner of my own making. The floor was...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant MachineThe ink on the page is still wet, a dark and viscous stain that spreads like a bruise across the parchment, and I write this from the edge of the world where the wind does not merely blow but screams with the voices of the dead who have forgotten how to speak in tongues that living ears can comprehend. I am Elias Thorne, or at least that is the name the Guild of Inquirers stamped upon my ledger...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful CrossroadsThe train moves through the dark. It is a long, narrow throat of steel and velvet. You sit by the window. The glass is cold against your cheek. You wear the coat. It is your skin. It is your armor. It is old. The wool has thinned. The elbows are bald. The buttons are loose. They rattle when you shift. You do not fix them. You never fix them. They are the sound of your time. The station is...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden OathThe hall smelled of roasted goose, burnt wax, and the metallic tang of old blood, a scent that clung to the wool of my coat and the fabric of my hair like a second skin. We were crowded together in the great stone chamber of the Ashworth estate, the air thick with the exhalations of thirty souls, the candlelight trembling on the high ceiling as if it, too, were afraid to speak. My father sat at...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful VoyageThe iron taste of blood is distinct from the copper tang of the blade, yet you have spent so long in the arena that the two have blurred into a single, metallic hum in your teeth. You are mid-swing, your arm a blur of motion, the heavy steel of your sword singing a low, mournful note as it parts the air. Before you, the opponent is not a man, but a shadow stitched together from smoke and old...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant SummerThe air in the valley of the Black Pines did not merely exist; it hung, thick and viscous as amber, trapping the light of the midsummer sun in a suspended, golden agony that refused to fade even as the shadows lengthened, a stagnant pool of heat that pressed against the skin of Elias Thorne, who lay prone upon the mossy earth with his breath ragged and shallow, his eyes fixed upon the jagged,...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek