0 Commenti
0 condivisioni
1 Views
0 Anteprima
Elenco
Discover new ideas, create new connections and make new friends
-
Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
-
The Distant ThresholdThe oak tree in the courtyard had been dying for three years, though no one at the Hall of Records dared say so. Its leaves, once a vibrant, defiant green, had turned the color of old parchment, brittle and trembling under the weight of an autumn that seemed to last forever. Julian sat beneath its canopy, his back pressed against the rough, peeling bark. He was a Senior Archivist, a title that...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima
-
The Faded RiverThe train smelled of wet wool and rust. It smelled of the earth being dragged behind a plow. Elias sat in the corner of the second-class carriage. His hands were folded in his lap. They were small hands. They were the hands of a child. But they were still. They were stone. Outside, the fields of Kent rolled by. They were gray. The sky was a sheet of iron. It did not move. It did not blink....0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima
-
The Wistful AtlasThe sky tore open above the ridge. It was not a thundercloud. It was a wound in the fabric of the afternoon, bleeding a light that was not sunlight. It was the color of old bruises, a deep, sickly violet that swallowed the green of the pines. I stood on the precipice, my boots sinking into the mud that had turned to slush in seconds. The air tasted of copper and ozone. My rifle was heavy in my...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima
-
The Distant TempleThe left hand of Sir Julian Thorne trembled. It was a fine, slender hand, pale as the lichen that grew on the castle walls of Highgate, yet it shook with a rigor that no cold could explain. He sat in the high chair of the Council, the oak armrests biting into his shoulders, and stared at the parchment before him. The ink was dry. The decree was signed. And the curse was his. He had sought the...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 11 Views 0 Anteprima
-
The Golden ScarThe wind howled through the iron lattice. It screamed. Silas stood before the Great Window. He was small. The glass was high. It stretched from floor to vaulted ceiling. It was ancient. It was gold. He pressed his palm against the cold surface. The glass did not yield. It never did. Behind him, the hum of the machine continued. A low, steady thrum. It vibrated in his teeth. It vibrated in his...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima
-
The Faded BouquetThe rain fell like static on the glass. Silas stood in the doorway. He held the mirror. It was not glass. It was obsidian. Cold. Black. Deep. The water seeped under his boots. The mud sucked at his weight. He did not look down. He looked into the shard. His face stared back. Paled. Wet. Eyes wide with a terror that had no name. Not his own fear. Older. Deeper. The road behind him was gone....0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima
-
The Golden EchoesThe bell did not ring so much as it exhaled, a long, bronze sigh that rolled through the cobblestones of the undercity and settled in the marrow of every prisoner. It was the hour of the Great Ingestion, the time when the city of Aethelgard demanded its tithe not in coin, but in flesh. Elias Vane stood in the antechamber, his hands bound by the soft, suffocating embrace of the silver cuffs, and...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima
-
The Golden RitualThe rain had been falling for three days, a relentless, industrial grey curtain that turned the cobblestones of the estate into slick, treacherous mirrors, reflecting the distorted, jagged skyline of the city beyond the moat, and Sergeant Elias Thorne stood in the center of the master bedroom, his back rigid against the weight of the air which felt thick, suffocating, and charged with a static...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima
-
The Wistful VoyageThe rain in the valley of Aethelgard did not fall so much as it descended, a thick, gray curtain that smelled of wet stone and ancient, rotting moss, and it was under this oppressive veil that Elara stood at the edge of the cliff, holding the iron key in her hand, her fingers numb not from the cold but from the terrible, heavy weight of the secret she carried within her chest. She had come to...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima
English
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek