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 Distant BladeThe water table in Millhaven sat at forty feet. Margaret knew this because she had spent thirty years listening to the hum of the submersible pump in the basement. It was a low, rhythmic thrum, a mechanical heartbeat that vibrated through the floorboards and into the soles of her feet. She was fifty-eight. Her hands were mapped with veins like the roots of old oaks, knuckles swollen, skin thin...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful MountainThe coat was red. Not a bright, screaming red, but a deep, arterial crimson, like dried blood on a stone. It hung on the hook by the door of the small, drafty house in Oakhaven, a town that clung to the edge of the Appalachian ridge like a barnacle to a hull. It was the only color in the room. The walls were peeling beige. The floorboards were gray and warped. The light from the window was the...0 Comments 0 Shares 4 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful GridThe carriage wheels ground against the ancient, cobblestone road that wound through the mist-choked valleys of the Scottish Highlands, a rhythmic clatter that seemed to count the remaining seconds of his life rather than the distance to the capital, and within the dim, velvet-lined compartment, Julian Thorne sat with his hands resting on a leather-bound book that did not open, for he had not...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant MachineThe letter lay on the oak desk, its seal unbroken, a crimson drop of wax that had cooled into a hard, silent judgment. Thomas Bradshaw stared at it, the parchment trembling slightly in his hands, though the room around him was still as held breath. He was the Inquisitor of the Lower Valleys, a title that had once felt like a crown of iron and now felt only like a chain. For three days, he had...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden MasterThe seal was a circle of gold leaf, pressed deep into the red wax like a wound that had finally stopped bleeding. I held it in my palm, the heat of the forge still lingering in the metal, and felt the weight of it settle into the hollow of my hand. It was not a coin. It was not a key. It was a mark. A signature of authority that I had carried for thirty years, etched into the bone of my wrist...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful SagaThe fog that rolled in off the harbor did not merely obscure the view of the breakwater; it seemed to erode the very architecture of the city, dissolving the sharp edges of the iron railings and the gas lamps into a gray, breathing smear. Elias Thorne stood at the threshold of the Grand Hall of the Municipal Exchange, his hand resting on the cold brass of the door handle, feeling the vibration...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant SummerThe old woman stood at the threshold of the Hall of Whispers, her hand resting on the cold iron bar, watching the morning mist coil around the cobblestones of the village square like the ghosts of forgotten prayers, her eyes fixed on the figure of the young apprentice who was being marched away by two silent guards, their leather armor creaking in the damp air, and in that moment, the world...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful MirrorThe blade bites the flesh of the oak. You are here. The wood splinters. It is dark. The candle guttering in the corner casts long, trembling shadows against the stone walls of the chapel. You do not look up. Your eyes are fixed on the grain of the wood, the intricate, spiraling lines of the heartwood. This is the only truth you can trust. The rest is noise. The rest is pain. You are a scholar...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant NightmareThe banquet hall smelled of damp wool and roasting goose. It was a smell that clung to the hair and settled in the teeth. Margaret stood at the edge of the room. She held a glass of wine. The liquid was red. It looked like blood. She did not drink. The hall was full. Men in dark suits. Women in silk. The lights were low. They hummed. The music was loud. It vibrated in the floorboards. Margaret...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek