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 Wistful Silence"Did you see the light?" I did not look up from the ledger. The ink was wet. It smeared under my thumb. I felt the dampness. I felt the cold. The room was cold. It was always cold. The walls were thick. They were stone. They were old. They were heavy. They pressed in. They did not breathe. They did not forgive. "Yes," I said. My voice was low. It was dry. It sounded like a leaf scraping on...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale BannerThe fog in the valley of Orenthia did not behave like the mists of the waking world, which clung to the ground in heavy, damp sheets that smelled of rotting peat and stagnant water, but instead it rose from the soil itself, a pale, translucent vapor that seemed to breathe with the slow, rhythmic pulse of the earth, wrapping around the stone watchtowers and the silhouettes of the sentinels in a...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden CompassThe rain did not fall so much as it materialized, a fine, cold mist that clung to the wool of my cloak and seeped into the joints of my fingers, numbing the sensation of the lantern handle. I stood at the edge of the Weald, where the ancient oaks gave way to the jagged, wind-scoured rocks of the coastal cliff, and I waited. The village of Oakhaven lay a mile back, its chimneys puffing smoke...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden EchoesThe dream had a smell. Damp wool and copper. Elias woke before the light. He lay in the narrow bed, his spine rigid against the mattress. The air in the room was still, but it felt heavy. Thick. Like water. He did not move. He listened. There was a sound. A low, rhythmic thrumming. It came from the walls. Or from the floor. It vibrated in his teeth. "Is it there?" he whispered. His voice...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden HarborThe file was cold in my hands, a slab of bureaucratic ice that radiated a chill through the leather of my gloves, and I remember thinking, with a detached sort of horror, that the handwriting inside was not that of the clerk who had stamped it, but that of my own father, who had been dead for six years, his ink faded to the color of dried blood on the pages of a case that should have been...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant GardenThe sky split open like a ripe fruit. It happened at dawn. The light did not rise. It fell. It fell in sheets of heavy, bruised violet, crushing the grass under the weight of its own existence. Elias stood on the ridge. He held his rifle. It was a long gun, cold iron against his palm. He had served in the border wars. He knew the weight of metal. He knew the silence that follows the shot. But...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant AffairThe fog did not roll in so much as it erupted, a thick, grey wool that swallowed the cobblestones of the old town whole. Elias Vance walked through it, his boots striking the wet stone with a rhythmic, hollow thud that seemed to echo from a different century. He was not a man who belonged in this place, a landlocked kingdom of mist and ancient stone, but here he was, a stranger in a land that...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant PromiseThe heavy oak door of the manor groaned in its frame, a sound that echoed through the dust-choked halls like the sigh of a dying beast, and Arthur Penhaligon stood on the threshold, his hands trembling not from the biting cold of the November wind that whistled through the broken panes of the estate, but from the sheer, suffocating weight of the years that had compressed the air in his lungs...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden CompassThe gold was cold. It bit into my palm, a hard, unyielding truth against the skin. I held the compass. It did not point north. It pointed to her. My name is Thomas. I am twelve. I am the son of the King’s chief architect. We live in the high keep, where the stone is white and the air smells of dust and old secrets. Below us, the city sleeps. But in the tower, we do not sleep. We wait. The...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek