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 Pale ExileNOTICE OF CONDEMNATION. Item 402: Manuscript, Ottoman, banned. Owner: H. Aslan. Deadline: Friday, noon. The notice sat on the table, yellowing at the edges, heavier than the paper it covered. Hatice Aslan picked it up, her fingers trembling not from fear but from the sheer weight of the ink. She was thirty-four, a retired linguist in a city that had forgotten her name, and the moth in the glass...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale BannerChapter One “You’re bleeding through the mortar again,” Sato Haruki said, his voice flat as the fog rolling off the port, useless and thick. I was thirty-four, standing inside the cracked concrete shell of the Kurogawa Hospital, my left arm fused into the fractured east wall, the pale banner woven into the masonry pulling at my skin like a second, tighter garment. The building groaned, a low,...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale ProtocolChapter One Can a man really sell his own years for the price of coal? I ask you this because I am Ryszard Nowakowski, thirty-two years old, and I am standing in my shop on the corner of the district, watching the dust settle on my hands, wondering if the trembling is just the cold or if it is the cost of the debt my father left behind. It is 1912, and the city is heavy with damp brick and...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden MirrorThe first page took four hours to copy. Arthur Vane sat at the oak table, the wood cold against his shins, and counted the strokes of his pen. One, two, three. The ink in the well was black, but the ink on the page was red. It moved. Not like water, but like something alive, spreading across the parchment in slow, deliberate tendrils. Arthur wiped his hand on his trousers. The stain remained....0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant TempleAct I "You can't take the belt, Vernon, it’s your father’s." The words hung in the air, heavy as the wet wool of the coat Vernon wore, which smelled of stale kerosene and the metallic tang of fear. He stood in the doorway of the last union local hall, a room that had once echoed with the clatter of sewing machines in relay but now held only the silence of empty chairs and the draft from the...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded FrontierThe hum began in the floorboards of the Northern Rail Authority office, a low, thrumming vibration that Thomas Vane felt not with his ears but in the roots of his teeth. It was a sound that seemed to rise from the earth itself, a persistent, subsonic moan that had grown louder since the autumn, a physical pressure against the soot-stained walls of the cramped, windowless room where his father,...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded SutraChapter One I remember the weight of the ash on my fingers long before I remember the fire, and it is a weight that has not yet left me, settling into the creases of my knuckles like dust in a closed room. I was Abdi Hussein, a scribe of little consequence in the sealed archive of the Sultan’s court, a man whose hands were stained not with ink but with the copper oxide of the ledgers I kept,...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale TowerThe wool market at the Burren’s edge was a place of coarse hands and finer lies, where the price of a fleece hinged on the lie of the light, and I stood in the sealed stone chamber of the Tower with my left wrist open to the air, the blood already turning to a pale, hard resin that smelled of wet chalk and old coins. I was Maeve Brannigan, a grader of wool and a keeper of the granary’s silence,...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful GridChapter One My name is Sabri Cetin, and I am a clerk who has spent the last nine years cataloguing the silence of dead men in a basement that smells of damp iron and rotting paper. It is the winter of 1924, and I am thirty-two years old, though the ache in my left wrist makes me feel as if I have already lived through two more decades of labor. I have been tasked with finalizing the transfer of...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek