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 Distant MetropolisThe dream was always the same. A vast, sterile kitchen where the air tasted of copper and stale ozone. In the center of the room, on a table of polished obsidian, sat a single apple. It was not red, nor green, but a deep, bruised violet, pulsing with a faint, rhythmic light that matched the beat of Marcus’s heart. He reached for it, his fingers trembling not with hunger, but with a profound,...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful DinnerThe rot had set in not from the outside, but from the marrow of the wood itself, a slow, sweet decay that the varnish could no longer hide, and it was this silence that hung in the air of the parlor on the night Thomas brought the bird, a heavy, wet silence that smelled of damp wool and old pipe tobacco and the metallic tang of fear that seemed to have permeated the very wallpaper, a texture we...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden HarborThe bell tolled. It was not a warning. It was a summons. The air in the scriptorium tasted of dust and dried ink. Elias sat. His hands trembled. He held the quill. The parchment was white. It was a blank page. It was a mouth. He was the Archivist. He kept the words. He did not make them. The Abbot had given him the task. The Abbot was old. The Abbot was cruel. The Abbot was the law. Elias...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful IncenseThe rain lashed against the leaded windows of the manor house with a violence that seemed personal, as if the sky itself were trying to scrub the very soul from the stone, and in the center of the Great Hall, where the tapestries hung like dried blood on the walls, Edmund Blackwood stood with his back to the fire, his hands trembling not from the cold that had seeped into his bones over the...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale ExileThe rain in the valley did not fall so much as it hung, a suspended gray mist that seeped into the bones of those who walked the ancient, moss-eaten stones of the Citadel, a place where the air itself seemed to possess a heavy, wet weight that pressed against the temples and dulled the sharp edges of thought, forcing the mind to slow down to the rhythmic, creaking pace of the oaks that leaned...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden QuestThe tie was red. Bright red. Like a wound. Like a heart cut open on the table. Marcus wore it every day. It was his armor. It was his skin. He was a mid-level analyst. He sat in a glass box. The box was on the fourteenth floor. The city roared below. Gray. Cold. Indifferent. Marcus looked at the tie. He adjusted the knot. The silk was smooth. It felt like a secret. It felt like safety. He had...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant BladeThe frost had settled upon the windowpanes of the manor in a pattern that resembled the intricate, unfurling veins of a leaf, a delicate geometry that Margaret held in her gaze for a long, suspended moment before she turned her attention back to the heavy, oak-wood table where her husband, Elias, sat with his hands folded tightly in his lap, his knuckles white against the dark timber as if he...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden SuspectThe bell rang at dawn. It was a low, bronze groan that shook the dust from the rafters of the old granary. Silas stood in the center of the room. He held his sword. It was a long, slender thing, forged in a city he could no longer name. The steel was dark. It drank the light. Around him, the others waited. They were the Wardens. They wore gray coats. Their faces were blank. They were part of...0 Comments 0 Shares 4 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful AsylumThe rain had been falling for three days, a cold and persistent sheet that turned the cobblestones of the courtyard into slick, dark mirrors reflecting the grey sky above. I stood by the heavy oak doors of the Keep, my hand resting on the pommel of a sword I had not drawn in a decade, the metal cold against my palm. The weight of it was a familiar thing, a burden I had carried so long it had...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek