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 Wistful MirrorThe bridge toll had doubled, strangling the bronze-casters in the old quarter until the air itself felt thick with unpaid debts and rust. Kadir Ozdemir, thirty-two, a scribe whose hands smelled perpetually of ink and damp clay, stood at the edge of the flooded crypt, watching the water ripple with a light that did not belong to the sun. He needed to save Elif, whose cough had become a dry...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant ThresholdThe rain had not stopped for three days, a persistent, gray sheet that turned the mud outside the outpost into a slick, black paste, and Elias Thorne sat in the corner of the supply room, his back against the cold brick, watching the door with the patience of a man who had forgotten how to sleep. He was forty-five, a border patrol agent with a reputation for methods that the department...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale CircusChapter One In the valley of Aethelgard, the mist did not merely obscure the world; it weighed upon it, a physical dampness that settled into the joints and the ledgers alike. Khalid Idris, warden of the Pale Circus, stood before the iron cage that dominated the center of the courtyard, his breath visible in the cold air, watching the white stag that had occupied the enclosure for twelve years....0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded RiverDo you know what it feels like to be a scribe for the dead? I asked the new security guard, a boy named Kael who looked like he had not slept since the last frost, as we stood in the signal box. The levers were cold against my palms, the metal worn smooth by ten thousand shifts. Below us, the paddy fields were a monsoon-green blur, the ridgeline dark with the promise of snow. I was thirty-two...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded FrequencyNikolai Kozlov stood in the doorway of the hydroponics bay, the damp cold of the night cycle seeping through his thin coat, and asked the silence a question he had been carrying for three years. Was the voice still there, or had he simply forgotten how to listen without needing to hear it? The bay was dim, lit only by the harsh, blue-white glow of the growth lamps that hummed with a frequency...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale BridgeThe goblet was heavy, heavier than the wine it held, and Stavros Theodorou gripped the stem until his knuckles turned the color of old bone, the tremor in his hands a secret betrayal he could no longer hide behind the smooth veneer of his fifty-two years. Act I "You are certain of this, Stavros?" asked Nikos, the senior...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale ExileChapter One A man’s worth is measured by what he can carry without breaking his back. I stood in the warehouse, the heat pressing against my chest like a wet wool blanket, while the smoke curled up from the floorboards in thick, grey ribbons. My foreman, a thick-necked man named Gennaro, was shouting at me, his face red as a ripe tomato, blaming me for the negligence that had started the blaze....0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden QuestThe ledger on the desk was thick as a brick, its pages swollen with the damp of the cellar, and Elias Thorne counted the hours he had spent waiting for the head nurse to return from her rounds, counting them like coins in a miser’s purse, each one a small, cold weight against his patience. He was fifty-two, a man whose spine had long ago surrendered to the curvature of years spent hunched over...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden CompassElias. The wind tore the name from the throat of the gable, a sound like dry leaves skittering over gravel, and I gripped the rusted iron key until the metal bit into my palm. The rain in the courtyard of Blackwood Manor was not merely wet; it was a cold, mineral slap that soaked through my threadbare coat and settled into the bones of the man who stood there, forty-two years old and bankrupt...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek