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 Distant JourneyThe train shuddered into the night, a beast of iron and steam exhaling clouds of black smoke that clung to the carriage like a shroud. Elias Thorne sat in the corner, his spine rigid against the velvet seat, his eyes fixed on the small glass vial in his left hand. The liquid inside was amber, viscous, and terrifyingly still. It was the last of it. The last of his sister, Clara. The air in the...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden GreenhouseThe summons arrived on a Tuesday, the paper heavy with the ink of the High Warden’s seal, instructing Constable Silas Vane to present himself at the capital within the fortnight, a command that felt less like an order and more like the final diagnosis of a disease he had been nursing in silence for six years. You are forty-five years old, which is an age in the mist-shrouded kingdom of Oria...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden MirrorThe bell above the door jingled with a harsh, metallic shriek that cut through the damp London fog of 1904, shattering the silence of your shop and dragging you from the heavy, suffocating sleep that had taken root in your chest. You, Elias Thorne, a forty-year-old apothecary whose lungs felt as though they were filled with wet sand, sat up on the bench behind the counter, your hand...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden VisitThe iron door of the vault did not have a handle, only a heavy ring of oxidized bronze that Elias Thorne had to pull with both hands to break the seal. He was thirty-two years old, a border warden for twenty, and his left knee screamed with a dull, rhythmic throb that matched the beat of his heart. The pension board had denied his claim twice; a broken knee was a common thing in the trade, they...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant AffairThe pass was blocked again, the mist rolling in from the east like a wall of wet wool that smelled of rotting kelp and old blood. I stood at the edge of the treeline, my boots sinking into the mud that had turned to slush under the weight of the autumn rains, and watched the silver locket in my hand catch the dim light. It was a small thing, worn thin at the edges, the silver tarnished to a...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant ThresholdElias. The word hung in the air, sharp as a snapped twig. I flinched, my hand jerking back from the ledger. Master Aldous did not look up from his window. He never looked up. He sat in the high-backed chair, his back a straight line of grey wool against the dim afternoon light, and he watched the dust motes swirl in the beam like tiny, confused planets. "Elias," he said again. His voice was...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden CellarI was scraping the black mold from the oak shelf when the hum started, a low vibration that traveled up through my boots and settled in the hollow of my chest like a second, heavier heartbeat. The cellar of the Abbey of Saint-Malo was damp, the air heavy with wet stone and old paper, and I had been down here for three hours, cataloging the debris of our failing treasury. My name is Gaspard...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale Altar14 March 1998 I held the brass key to the study in my palm, the metal cold against the sweat of my fingers, and watched the reflection in the window pane distort my face into something gaunt and unfamiliar. The oak tree in the front garden stood pale against the grey sky, its bark stripped by the winter wind, looking less like a living thing and more like a bone exposed by the earth. I needed...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant PromiseThe dream is always the same: a silver locket, cold and heavy, clamped around the throat of a girl who is not your daughter, yet whose face is Clara’s, her eyes wide with the specific, silent accusation of a child who has been betrayed by the very hands that made her. You wake in the workshop, the air thick with the smell of machine oil and the damp rot of the estate walls, and you reach for...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek