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 Golden CompassThe fog in Oakhaven did not merely obscure the view; it consumed it, a damp, grey wool that strangled the cobblestones and pressed against the single pane of the archive window where I sat, my fingers stained with the dust of centuries. I am Elias Thorne, and for forty-two years I have served as the keeper of this town’s memory, a role that requires a silence so profound it becomes a physical...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded MasqueradeThe white heron was made of ash. Elias Thorne held the bird in his hands, its feathers crumbling at the touch, turning to gray dust that slipped through his fingers and settled on the floor of his dream. He woke with the grit still coating his palms, the texture gritty and dry against his skin. The morning light in the archive was thin, filtering through the high, dusty windows to illuminate...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded RuinThe city of Aethelgard did not look like a ruin. It looked like a throat. Marianne Vance stood at the edge of the cliff, her boots sinking into the damp moss. Below, the stone structures rose in jagged, breathing spires. They expanded and contracted with a slow, rhythmic pulse, a low, persistent drone humming in her teeth. She clutched the vial of her own blood in her left hand. It was warm. It...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale BannerYiannis Georgiou remembered the weight of the shears before he remembered the name of the woman who had given them to him. It was a Tuesday in the refugee quarter of Thessaloniki, the kind of January day where the thaw tricked the orchards into thinking spring had arrived, only to snap back with a freeze that cracked the mud along the road out of town. He stood in the workshop, the air thick...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant GhostThe water outside the habitat is not empty; it is full of pressure. I have been a hydrologist for twelve years, mapping the salinity of the deep trenches beneath Melbourne’s submerged terrace rows, and I know the weight of a gallon of brine better than I know the weight of my own blood. My father, Gerald Pell, vanished three months ago, leaving behind only a crate stamped with the Guild’s...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant NightmareThe ledger line, written in a hand that trembled less than the ink it left behind, read: Wei Zhu, debtors' signatory, status: suspended, limb: missing, value: zero. The scent of ozone and wet slate hung heavy in the air, a smell that clung to the back of the throat like a physical weight, before the obsidian court of the Dreaming King resolved out of the gray static of sleep. Wei Zhu stood on...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded ShieldAct I Guleid Worku was forty-two years old, a docker’s clerk who had spent the last decade tallying crates of opium for the registry office in the highland town of Veldt, a place where the winter thaw turned the roads into a slurry of mud and rot that sucked at the boots of every man who walked them. I needed the municipal contract for the new town hall windows before the freeze set in, not for...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden VisitThe inventory of the restricted sub-basement lists four hundred and twelve items, each cataloged with a precision that borders on the surgical. You have spent the last three hours counting them, your breath held in a tight, rhythmic loop, the weight of the ledger in your mind heavier than the iron crowbar resting against the concrete floor. The light here is not natural; it is the sickly,...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden QuestChapter One Sadia Siddiqui was thirty-four years old and her hands smelled of damp paper and mildew. She sat in the basement of the municipal archive, a room that smelled of rotting wood and old rain, and she looked at the ledger in front of her. The pages were swollen with moisture. The ink bled into the fibers, turning the numbers into brown smudges. She needed to find a specific entry. Her...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek