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 Golden GreenhouseThe rain did not fall. It hung. Suspended in the air like a million tiny, cold needles. Elias stood in the street. He was wet. Not from the sky. From inside. He looked up. The clouds were not gray. They were the color of old teeth. "Hello," he said. His voice was small. It broke. No one answered. The city was empty. The shops were shuttered. The cobblestones glistened with a slick, oily sheen....0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded RoadThe ink in the well was black. Not the black of night, or coal, or the void between stars. It was a thick, viscous darkness. It smelled of iron and old paper. It sat in the stone basin at the center of the basement, waiting. Elias stood before it. He was twelve. His hands were dirty. They were always dirty. The soot of the boiler room, the dust of the archives, the grime of the corridors that...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale FractureThe great bell tower of St. Jude’s stood not as a monument to God, but as a prison for the sound, a vertical shaft of stone that held the city’s throat in a grip so tight that even the wind dared not whistle through its louvres, for the wind knew, with a preternatural, ancient fear, that any vibration within those walls would be recorded, measured, and judged by the Silent Wardens who watched...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale ExileThe ice broke. It did not shatter with a bang. It sighed. A long, wet exhalation that smelled of rust and old bones. Marta woke in the cellar. The dampness was a living thing. It crept up her shins. It settled in her lungs. She coughed. The sound was dry. A rattle. Like dry leaves in a dead tree. She was cold. So cold. The fire had gone out. The coals were black. Dead. She reached for the...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale ExileThe first thing that went wrong was the sound, a wet, tearing crack like a celery stalk snapping in the dark, which made Marcus stop dead in the middle of the kitchen, his hand still resting on the cold steel of the refrigerator handle. He was seven years old, small for his age, with a head of hair that refused to be tamed and eyes that were always looking for something that wasn't there. The...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden HarborThe ink on my hands had not dried since I left the shore, a dark, viscous stain that smelled of iron and old blood, mirroring the rot that had set into the bones of my father, Sir Aldous. We were sailing the Void, that endless, grey expanse of mist that lay beyond the edge of the known world, where the laws of physics bent and broke under the weight of ancient, forgotten sorcery. The ship, a...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale ExileThe axe bit deep. I did not flinch. The blood that ran down my forearms was red, but the mist rising from the felled oak was white. It swirled around my ankles like a living thing. I was the King’s carver. I was also his son. The distinction mattered less than the wood. The wood screamed as it split. I knew the sound. I had heard it in my dreams for years. "Stop," the King said. His voice was...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful CipherThe brass chronometer did not tick, for it was a thing of silent, internal gears and jeweled bearings, yet it possessed a presence so heavy and undeniable that it seemed to suck the oxygen from the air of the war room, leaving the men standing in a vacuum of suspended breath, their uniforms stiff with the damp chill of the November fog that pressed against the high, leaded windows of the...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden MasterThe rain fell on the slate roof. It was a cold rain. It smelled of iron and old dust. Marcus sat in the high chair. The wood was polished by time. It was the Chair of the Inquisitor. It was also his father’s chair. He wore the black robes. The fabric was heavy. It dragged on the stone floor. He did not feel the weight. He felt only the cold. The room was silent. The candles flickered. Their...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek