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 IncenseThe iron staff was cold in my hand, colder than the night air, and the Wisp was waiting at the gate. I did not see it at first, only the silence where the wind should have been. The lanterns along the wall had gone dark, one by one, like eyes closing in sleep. I struck the air with the staff, a sharp crack that echoed off the stone, but the metal felt wrong, soft, as if it were made of wet...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale AltarThe lily was dying, and I was the one who had to explain why to a man who paid me in shillings and silence. "Thomas, you are a disgrace to the uniform," the Duke said, not looking up from the ledger. His quill scratched against the parchment, a sound like a mouse gnawing through dry bone. "The white lily. It is black. Again." I stood at attention, my boots slick with the damp from the corridor....0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden SuspectThe horse’s flanks heaved with the effort of the climb, the iron horseshoes striking sparks from the wet stone as Sir Eamon guided the beast up the muddy track toward Blackwood Keep, a fortress that loomed against the grey November sky like a jagged tooth in the earth’s mouth. He was forty years old, though the palsy that had stolen the use of his left arm made him feel ancient, a relic of a...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant PromiseThe snow does not fall; it hangs, a suspended judgment of white grit that chokes the air and blinds the eyes. You are Elias Thorne, and you are walking toward the light that burns at the edge of the tree line, a light that promises the warmth of the outpost and the finality of your resignation. In your right hand, clenched so tightly that the knuckles have turned the color of old bone, you hold...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden CompassThe subsonic hum hit Elias Thorne before he cleared the threshold of the Blackwood Administrative Center. It was not a sound one could hear so much as a pressure, a physical weight settling against the temples and the base of the skull. Elias adjusted his collar, the wool chafing against his neck, and stepped into the lobby. The air inside was still, thick with the scent of ozone and old dust....0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant ThresholdThe lilies were already dying. I woke to the scent of rot, a thick, cloying perfume that coated the back of my throat, and the first thing I knew was the cold. Not the crisp chill of a cellar in autumn, but a deep, marrow-aching freeze that seemed to radiate from the stones themselves. I was in the vault. My family’s estate, the one that had stood on the hill for three generations, had sealed...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale ProtocolThe plaster gave way with a sound like a bone snapping, a wet, heavy crack that split the silence of the manor and sent a cloud of grey dust billowing into the afternoon light. I am writing this by the flickering glow of a tallow candle, my hands trembling not from the cold, but from the realization that the world I have known for thirty-two years has just folded in on itself, and I am the only...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded RuinThe rain in the Palace of Iron did not fall so much as it seeped, a constant, cold mist that settled into the pores of the stone and the bones of the men who walked its corridors. I stood before the desk of Director Vane, my uniform pressed tight against my ribs, waiting for the stamp that would authorize the restoration of the Mirror of Sovereignty. For seven years, I had served as an Enforcer...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden RitualThe brass plaque sat in Elias Thorne’s palm, cold and heavy as a dead bird, while the rain drummed against the single, grimy window of the barracks in a rhythm that felt less like weather and more like a countdown. He was thirty-four, a sergeant in the Ironclad Regiment, and his father, Colonel Thorne, had been dead for six years, but the name stamped into the metal, *Colonel E. Thorne,...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek