0 Comments
0 Shares
1 Views
0 Reviews
Directory
Discover new ideas, create new connections and make new friends
-
Please log in to like, share and comment!
-
The Pale CircusThe leather of my gauntlet had long since worn thin at the knuckles, exposing the pale, scarred skin beneath to the biting chill of the morning. I stood in the center of the square, a place of cobblestones and dust where the shadows of the city’s ancient spires stretched like long, gray fingers across the ground. In my hand, I held the Astrolabe of St. Jude. It was not a large instrument, no...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded BouquetThe mud is cold against your cheek, and the taste of iron and old blood coats your teeth. You are on your knees in the muck of the courtyard, your sword clattering uselessly at your side, while the guard before you lifts his mace with a weary, practiced efficiency. He does not look at you. He looks through you, as if you are merely a stain on the stone that needs to be wiped away by the order...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded MasqueradeThe mist clung to the stone floor. It breathed. It smelled of wet ash and old blood. Elara stood still. The shadows moved. They were not shadows. They were eyes. Thousands of them. Watching. Waiting. The air was thick. Heavy. It pressed against her lungs. She could not breathe. She could not run. The walls wept. Cold water. Dark water. It ran down the rough-hewn rock. It pooled at her feet....0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant CartographYou stand in the center of the long, vaulted hall where the air hangs heavy with the scent of dried lavender and the metallic tang of old brass, your hands trembling not from the cold that seeps through the wool of your coat but from the terrible, quiet realization that the map you have spent the last three years meticulously charting is not merely a document of terrain but a confession of your...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale TowerThe iron gate groaned against its rusted hinges, a sound like a dying animal, as Elias Thorne stepped into the courtyard of the Blackwood Keep. The air here was thick, stagnant, tasting of wet stone and old blood, a sharp contrast to the sterile, fluorescent hum of the forensic lab he had left only an hour ago. He adjusted the strap of his shoulder holster, the leather biting into his uniform,...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded RootThe rain against the windowpane of the Ministry of Internal Security sounded like a thousand small, frantic fingers trying to break in, a relentless tapping that matched the drumming in my temples. I sat in the corner of Director Halloway’s office, a space so sterile it felt less like a room and more like a vacuum sealed around my lungs, my fingers wrapped tightly around the ceramic mug he had...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded DustThe train hissed against the iron tracks as it pulled into the station, a long, low moan that seemed to carry the weight of the entire industrial age, and you stepped off onto the platform with a suitcase that felt heavier than it had when you left home three days ago, the wood of the handle worn smooth by the grip of your mother’s hands before yours, and you knew, with a certainty that settled...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful PetalThe machine hummed. A low, electric thrum that vibrated in the molars. Margaret stood before the console. Her fingers hovered. The screen flickered. Static. White noise. She pressed the key. The room smelled of ozone and stale coffee. The fluorescent lights buzzed. They never went off. Not here. The Department of Anomalous Resonance did not observe daylight cycles. It observed data cycles....0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant LegendYou are sitting in the mud of the Undercroft, where the roots of the World-Tree push through the floorboards like the bones of giants, and you are waiting for the Warden, a man whose voice sounds like gravel shifting in a dry riverbed, to decide if your tongue is still worth keeping. The air here tastes of iron and old rain, thick with the spore-dust of the fungal forests that bleed light into...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek