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 Faded ShieldThe kitchen table was a slab of scarred oak that had witnessed three generations of silence, and on its surface lay the morning’s bread, cut into thick, uneven slabs that smelled of yeast and wet earth, a smell that had become so intimately woven into the fabric of the house that Thomas Whitmore could no longer distinguish the scent of the dough from the scent of his own aging skin. He stood...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden MirrorThe mirror shattered before the coffee cooled. It hung in the center of the faculty lounge. A large, oval piece of glass. Old. The wood frame was dark. It looked like a wound in the wall. Elias stood before it. He held his mug. The steam curled up. His hand was steady. His heart was not. He had come to see his reflection. He wanted to check his tie. He wanted to see if he looked like a man who...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant LegendThe banquet hall smelled of roasted goose and stale sweat. It was a smell that clung to the wool uniforms, heavy and sweet. The officers sat at long tables of polished mahogany. They ate with silver forks that clicked against porcelain. Captain Elias Thorne sat alone at the far end. He watched the steam rise from his bowl. It curled like a ghost. He was a small man. His coat buttoned tight to...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant ThresholdThe fog did not roll in. It settled, like a shroud draped over the shoulders of the world. Silas Kaine walked the wet cobblestones of the village square. His boots clicked a hollow rhythm against the stone. He was a man of the law, though the law here was old and strange. It was the law of the Abbey. He wore a coat of heavy wool, dark as dried blood. The air tasted of iron and wet moss. He...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded RootYou wear the coat. It is wool. Heavy. Gray. It smells of dust and old iron. You have worn it for three days. The collar chafes your neck. You do not adjust it. You cannot. It is part of you now. Or it is eating you. You do not know which. The train moves. The wheels click. Click. Click. You sit by the window. The glass is dirty. You trace a circle with your finger. Outside, the fields are...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale DanceThe rain had stopped, leaving the air in the valley of Kaelen’s Rest thick with the scent of wet stone and the metallic tang of old iron, and you stood at the edge of the village square, your hand resting on the hilt of the sword that had been your father’s, and his father’s before him, watching the elders gather beneath the ancient oak that had stood there since the first stones were laid. The...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale ShadowsThe rain on the road to the Abbey of Saint Jude was not merely wet; it was a heavy, grey curtain that erased the horizon and turned the world into a blur of mud and stone. Elias walked with a slow, deliberate cadence, his boots sinking into the churned earth, the weight of the satchel at his hip feeling less like a burden and more like an anchor to a reality that was rapidly dissolving. He was...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden SuspectIn the high, cold towers of the old Saxon court, where the stone breathes a damp chill that seeps into the marrow and the air tastes of wet ash and ancient dust, I woke from a dream so vivid that the silence of my cell felt louder than the roaring of the river below, for in that dream I had seen the golden bird, the one whose feathers were said to be spun from the raw light of the sun, sitting...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden VisitThe rain did not fall; it hovered, a suspended mist that clung to the windowpane of the small, cramped office on the fourth floor of the municipal building, blurring the world outside into a smear of grey and neon. Inside, the air was stale, thick with the scent of old paper and the metallic tang of fear. Elias sat in a chair that felt too small for his body, his knees drawn up to his chest,...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek