Fantasy

The Northern Wars
NERO FOREST, AHGLOR Winter, 1E77 Robin trekked through the rough hilly terrain of the Ahglorian woodlands in pursuit of the caribou herd he’d been pursuing for three days, northeast of his home in Olenor. The land was covered in dense pine and fir tree woods and small ferns and thorny underbrush grew between them. The ground was covered in dead leaves and pine needles and it was flattened where the caribou had run through, sometime late in the night during the storm. He followed the caribou trail as quickly and quietly as an elf- the dead wet leaves gave way without sound beneath the soles of his hemp shoes as he ran along on his northerly course. The path he followed was sunken into the ground and the land rose two and a half feet on either side of the three foot wide path that he traversed. His path was walled-in by the thick growth of trees that surrounded him and the caribou route twisted and turned periodically as he navigated it.
By Kelson Hayes5 years ago in Fiction
Gutterick The Guardian. Top Story - June 2021.
“A customer?” Sounded a squeaky voice from somewhere in the dark. “How peculiar – Ah, I remember now! You must be the new apprentice, am I right?”
By Ida Stokbaek5 years ago in Fiction
Legend of Inane
Ryzania: Once a land known for beautiful landscapes of endless greenery, now a smoldering landscape nearly uninhabitable by mortalkind. The fae-kin departed the world, either fleeing to another or entering eternal rest with a majority of the original inhabitants of the land. Children born during the crusade never knew the country’s glory, merely the darkness of the tunnels to which they found their homes. However, a few fae kin remained, attempting to right the wrongs of the war. They were considered seraphs, with ashy gray wings, and tan skin which contrasted the wingless pale mortals. Seraphs had exquisite features which were exhausted from their exposure to endless rains, while the mortals had a more delicate appearance, which appeared dirty and worn from their lives underground.
By Crystal Ayers5 years ago in Fiction
Faith, Trust & Pixie Dust
How do you adequately describe the first time you experience real magic? It seems the prettiest of words in the English language could never quite do it justice.
By Jessie Waddell5 years ago in Fiction
Elios
I was told humans weren’t always idiotic fools. I was told we once cared about the place we call home. My mother passed down the little knowledge she was given from her mother—and her mother before her—about the creatures that once roamed this now sullied planet. We once valued nature, we once valued choices.
By Sadé Díaz5 years ago in Fiction
Wings
Arney stared out over the ocean, his claws clicking against the rocks at his feet as he sat and thought. The weather was starting to cool and soon he’d have to find a warm cave to hide in during the snows. He didn’t have to, strictly speaking, but he found it much more enjoyable than having to trudge through all that muck and cold wetness. Being a creature of stone, earth, and fire, he had never been overly found of this part of the year.
By Gianna Robbins5 years ago in Fiction
Light as a Rock & Heavy as Paper
When I was a little kid, I remember my grandmother whispering a tale about mystical creatures that were mischievous and powerful yet not that bright; she’d talk about how they were given extraordinary powers and lived in a world parallel to our own, yet can only cross in the between spaces, doorways, windows and even when the world is at a standstill of night and day at the midnight hour, they run rampant through children’s bedrooms and often times stealing them away into the night; meet the faeries who live rent-free in my mind.
By Bei Maxey 5 years ago in Fiction
Heart-Shaped Box
Heart-Shaped Box By Marie South The bombs had done their damage well, Donna thought as she made her way through the rubble. No one knew which group had done the damage. At least that was what the Sergeant had said. She had heard the phrase ‘war is hell’ spoken many times, even before the war began. Now that the country was in the middle of World War III, almost everyone in America sang it like a song. Those idiots had no idea.
By Marie South5 years ago in Fiction
Awaken the Dreaming. Top Story - June 2021.
The corridors were lined with ancient texts and old oil paintings set in golden frames and crackled shellac. Rich tapestries of silk and wool decorated the floors as ornate carvings protruded from the earthen walls casting shadows and story from the candles that flickered nearby. The air was thick and sweet with a subtle aroma of jasmine and chai spiced tea.
By Donna Raymond5 years ago in Fiction
The Exile
“A great evil has come to creation. When the Chaotic One is known, the true King of Dragons will arise to fight. Twice the King will see beyond the veil and twice he will be tested. Only the true King of Dragons can neutralize the greatest evil. Only then will there be balance within the machine that is the Universe.”
By Solina Silverfire5 years ago in Fiction
Reclaiming Azuria
The large conference room sat seemingly empty. The bright sunlight shone through the hall’s large arched windows, filling the entire room with brilliant light. Everything inside was radiantly white. The high, vaulted ceilings were decorated with intricate carvings of fruit and cherubs, and surrounding the room was wide, tall windows that revealed grand vistas of the land for many miles. In the center of the room was an enormous table with a remarkably large white chair at its head. This is where the kimetar sat during his meetings. Next to the kimetar’s chair, in the corner of the room, stood an ornate, waist-high white pedestal upon which sat a red velvet pillow adorned with gold stitching around the edges. On the pillow rested a smooth orb created from perfectly pure diamond. Around the table, smaller chairs of the highest quality sat empty, save one. At the opposite end of the table from the seat of power, a man reclined, gazing out one window over the cloud tops which covered the land in all directions. He looked young, mid-thirties perhaps, yet he had glistening white hair that billowed over his head and flowed beautifully down to his shoulders. He was dressed all in white. On the table next to him were two small envelopes.
By Christopher Schalk5 years ago in Fiction
Heirloom
I was growing tiresome, but aside from there being a few hours of daylight left, this forest was full of bare snags that didn't provide much cover, and R.I.S.E. was not known for giving up on a hunt. About a mile to the East of here, there is a creek that still flows through this once-thriving forest. As tempting as it is to set up camp closer to the creek, I am certain that is exactly where they will be looking for me. My best chance at surviving through the night is staying to the West and hoping to find some cover before nightfall.
By Joshua Olivio5 years ago in Fiction