0 Comments
0 Shares
15 Views
0 Reviews
Directory
Discover new ideas, create new connections and make new friends
-
Please log in to like, share and comment!
-
The Wistful VoyageThe hall smelled of roasted pork and stale incense. It was a heavy, cloying scent that settled in the throat. Julian stood at the edge of the feast. He held the glass in his hand. The crystal was thin. It was cold. It caught the light of the tallow candles. He did not look up. He looked at the table. The table was long. It stretched into the dark. The abbots sat at the head. They were fat men....0 Comments 0 Shares 15 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant MachineThe mud was thick and cold against Elara’s boots. It sucked at every step, a greedy, wet mouth that refused to let go. She ran. The breath tore from her lungs in jagged shards. The village of Oakhaven lay ahead, a cluster of timber and thatch shrouded in the grey twilight. Behind her, the heavy tread of horses. The clatter of iron. They were coming. She reached the cottage door. Her hands...0 Comments 0 Shares 14 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden CompassHe dreamed of a seal. Wax, red and hard. The impression was a lion. His hand was not his hand. It was a tool of bone. He pressed it down. The wax cracked. He woke. The room was cold. Stone walls wept with damp. Thomas was a maker of seals. Not the kind for letters. The kind for truth. Or so he told himself. He worked in the shadow of the King’s court. A small shop. Smells of tallow and iron....0 Comments 0 Shares 14 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale VerdictThe boy woke before the light did. The cold was a solid thing in the room. It pressed against his ribs. He lay still. The sheets were damp. He did not move his arms. He did not move his legs. He watched the dark corner of the cell. The stone was gray. It was wet. A drop of water fell. It hit the floor with a soft sound. He counted the seconds. One. Two. Three. The drop fell again. He was seven...0 Comments 0 Shares 15 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful SilenceThe bell rang. It was a low, dull sound. Like a stone hitting wet clay. "Did you hear it, Thomas?" He did. He always did. His ears were sharp. His hands were steady. But his mind was far away. It was drifting in the grey mist that hung over the valley. The mist that smelled of iron and old blood. "Thomas?" The voice came from the doorway. It was Elias. The Guild Master. He was tall. He was old....0 Comments 0 Shares 15 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant ClueThe train cuts through the fog like a blade through wet wool, and you are sitting in the back corner of the carriage, your hands folded in your lap so tightly that your knuckles have turned the color of old bone. The rhythm of the wheels is a metronome counting down to a verdict you have already written. You are a man who has been condemned by the world, though the gavel has not yet fallen. The...0 Comments 0 Shares 15 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant GhostThe dream began, as it always did in the grey hours before the sun could claim the horizon, with the smell of ozone and old parchment, a scent that seemed to seep through the soles of Elias Thorne’s boots and settle deep in the marrow of his bones, a physical weight that anchored him to a city that no longer existed on any modern map yet persisted with terrifying clarity in the architecture of...0 Comments 0 Shares 13 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant JokeThe dream was cold. It smelled of wet stone and old iron. Silas stood in the courtyard of the Keep. The sky above was a bruised purple, heavy and still. He held his sword, the Ashwood Blade. It was lighter than it should have been. He could feel the air through the steel. He swung it. The tip passed through a leaf on a nearby oak. The leaf did not fall. It stayed suspended, trembling. He woke...0 Comments 0 Shares 15 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded ParadoxThe train hissed into the station at Grey Harbor, a long, metallic exhalation that seemed to drain the last of the winter air from the platform, and Elias Thorne stepped down onto the gravel with a suitcase that weighed more than his bones, a sensation he had come to know as the specific gravity of his own failure. He was not a man who carried weight well, his spine curved from years of...0 Comments 0 Shares 15 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek