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 ExileThe glass shatters. It is not a loud sound. It is a bright, cold snap, like a bone breaking in a frozen field. You watch the pieces fall. They scatter across the concrete floor of the workshop, catching the gray light from the high windows. Each shard holds a fragment of the world. A sliver of blue sky. A curl of brown earth. A piece of your own reflection, fractured and strange. You do not...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful GridThe dream is always the same. You are standing in the center of the courtyard. The stones are cold. They press against the soles of your boots with a weight that feels like memory. You are wearing the uniform of the old order. The wool is heavy. The insignia on your chest is tarnished silver. It looks like a wound that refuses to heal. You look down at your hands. They are covered in dirt. Or...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant GhostThe fog did not merely sit upon the lake; it inhabited the water, a thick, gray breath that rose and settled, erasing the boundary between the earth and the sky. I stood on the edge of the pier, my boots sinking slightly into the wet, rotting planks, feeling the cold seep up through the soles. It was a sensation I had come to expect, a physical manifestation of the doubt that had plagued me for...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden MythThe axe bit deep. Wood splintered with a sound like a bone breaking. I did not look up. I kept swinging. The rhythm was a prayer. In. Out. In. Out. The village of Oakhaven lay behind me, silent under the grey sky. The war was over. The treaty was signed. The kings had gone home. But the smell of iron remained in the air, thick and wet. It clung to my beard. It stained my nails. I was Eamon....0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded FrequencyThe ink on the parchment was still wet when the first knock came. It was a rhythmic, deliberate sound, like a heartbeat heard through a thick wall. Thomas Ashworth did not look up from his desk. He knew who it was. He had been expecting it for three days, ever since the letters began arriving in the dead of night, sealed with the red wax of the Magistrate’s office. Thomas was not a man of great...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant WhispersThe rain hit the windshield. Hard. Wet. Cold. Captain Elias Thorne gripped the wheel. Knuckles white. The wipers slapped. Left. Right. Left. Right. A rhythm. A heartbeat. Slow. Dying. He was leaving. Not for a mission. Not for a break. He was leaving the force. Leaving the badge. Leaving the city that had chewed him up and spat him out as a ghost. The radio crackled. Static. Then a voice. "Unit...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful Show"Is it gone?" Mara held the iron lantern. The flame inside did not flicker. It burned with a steady, violet hue that cast no shadows. She stood on the muddy shoulder of the road, the rain slicking her hair to her face. Behind her, the wagon wheels creaked in the mud. "No," said Elias. He did not look at her. He looked at the fog that rolled in from the valley. "It is not gone. It is waiting."...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden GreenhouseThe ivy climbed the south wall. It climbed fast. It climbed with a hunger that made the stones sweat. The sun was high. The air was still. Leo sat on the steps. He watched the leaves. They were green. A deep, wet green. Like moss. Like old money. He touched them. They were soft. They were cold. He pulled his hand back. They were too cold. The castle was quiet. Too quiet. The windows were shut....0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale VerdictThe rain had been falling for three days when I left the house. It was a grey, persistent drizzle that did not wash the dust from the cobblestones but merely made the grime slick and treacherous. I carried only a satchel of clothes and a small, leather-bound journal. My wife, Elise, stood by the door, her hand resting on the frame. She did not stop me. She never did. We had been married for...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek