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 Pale MeridianThe bell rang. It did not chime. It screamed. A low, bruised sound that vibrated in the teeth. I was counting sheep. Or perhaps stones. It is hard to tell in the dark. My fingers were numb. The wool was wet. It clung to my skin like a second, colder self. "You are late," said the voice. It was not a question. It was a fact. As true as the cold. "I am here," I whispered. My name is Elara. I do...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant PromiseThe bus smelled of wet wool and diesel. Elias sat in the back, his uniform pressed tight against his chest. It was a heavy thing, the badge. Not the metal one on his belt, but the weight of the years. He watched the rain streak the windows. Each drop ran down, merging with another, disappearing into the grey mud of the countryside. He was going home. Or what was left of it. The house stood on a...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded ShieldThe bell in the tower did not ring. It screamed. It was a sound that tore through the silence of the valley like a hook into wet flesh. I stood in the courtyard, the mud sucking at my boots, and watched the stone face of the abbey turn away from us. Not physically. But the light did. The sun, which had been a pale, sickly coin in the grey sky, vanished behind a cloud that had no business being...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale CircusThe tremor did not begin in the ground but in the marrow of Elias Thorne’s left knee, a deep, resonant hum that traveled up through the femur and settled behind his eyes like the pressure before a storm breaks, a sensation so intimate and familiar that it felt less like an injury and more like a memory of the body itself remembering what it was made to bear, for Elias had been a keeper of the...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden MythThe smell of boiled turnips hung in the air of Block C, a thick, cloying vapor that seemed to settle in the lungs of the men like a second skin. Elias Vane sat on the edge of his cot, his hands resting on his knees, fingers drumming a frantic, silent rhythm against his thighs. He was not afraid, not in the way the new arrivals were afraid, with their wide eyes and trembling lips. He was busy....0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant CrownThe iron bit of the saddle bit into her mouth not with pain but with a cold, metallic certainty that tasted of rust and old blood, and Maren stood at the edge of the treeline where the world ended and the fog began, her sword arm raised high in a posture of defiance that felt less like strength and more like the last, trembling spasm of a dying animal, while the shadow of the King, or perhaps...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden RitualThe badge was gold. It sat on his chest, a heavy coin of authority, warm against the wool of his shirt. Elias Thorne touched it. He rubbed the surface. It was smooth. It was cold. He stood in the center of the office. The room was grey. The light was grey. The men around him were grey. They sat in a circle. They watched. Elias was a captain. He had served for twenty years. He had kept the...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant ClueThe rain had not stopped for three days, a persistent, gray curtain that turned the cobblestones of the old quarter into mirrors of the bruised sky. I stood in the archway of the Magistrate’s office, my coat heavy with water, watching the ink bleed into the parchment on the desk before me. It was a small, unremarkable blot, a mere accident of a quill slipping on a wet surface, yet to the eyes...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden QuestThe bell tolled at dawn. It shook the dust from the rafters. I woke in the cold. The stone bit into my cheek. My fingers were numb. I could not feel them. Was that the end? No. The fire had died. But the heat remained. Inside the walls. I sat up. The room was dark. Yet it glowed. A soft, amber light. It pulsed like a heart. I looked at my hands. They were stained gold. Not paint. Not dirt....0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek