Richard Bailey
Bio
I am currently working on expanding my writing topics and exploring different areas and topics of writing. I have a personal history with a very severe form of treatment-resistant major depressive disorder.
Stories (91/591)
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Ashes of the Forgotten Pact – Part 5
Blackhollow stood like a wound upon the world. Dark towers climbed the sky, skeletal trees curling toward them like supplicants. The manor, built upon the jagged cliffs of the Riven Vale, groaned beneath centuries of storm and silence. Time had peeled away its grandeur; ivy choked its stones, and the great windows stared blankly, their glass long since shattered. But beneath it—deep within the cliffside—lay the vault. The first Spiral. The birthplace of the curse.
By Richard Bailey8 months ago in Chapters
Ashes of the Forgotten Pact – Part 4
The skies above Hollowmere still wept ash by morning. Charred rafters jutted like broken teeth from the skeletons of homes, and the once-bright banners of the town square lay soaked and torn in blackened puddles. The Spiral remained etched into the stone, cracked and flickering with pulses of dying light—like a heart refusing to stop beating.
By Richard Bailey8 months ago in Chapters
Ashes of the Forgotten Pact – Part 3
Smoke greeted them before dawn. It rose in a slow coil above the low hills, a black ribbon winding through the morning fog like a noose suspended from the heavens. The village of Hollowmere sprawled beneath it, once a quiet settlement of cobblestone lanes and lantern-lit bridges, now etched with crimson runes that pulsed like infected veins through the earth. The Spiral had taken root. And it was feeding.
By Richard Bailey8 months ago in Chapters
Ashes of the Forgotten Pact – Part 2
The Hall of Records stood half-buried in the cliffs east of Thalamar’s Reach, a place long removed from the path of pilgrims and faith. It loomed like a tomb carved into stone, its arches carved with forgotten prayers now worn smooth by time and wind. Ivy crawled across the facade in thick tendrils, strangling statues of saints whose faces had cracked and faded into grotesque masks. The great iron doors groaned on rusted hinges as Aric pushed them open, the sound echoing like a dirge through the cavernous dark.
By Richard Bailey8 months ago in Chapters
Ashes of the Forgotten Pact – Part 1
The stench of old smoke still clung to the stones of Saint Aurellian’s Abbey, three days after the fire. It drifted on the breeze like a whispered warning, curling through the shattered archways and scorched pews. What remained of the great altar stood blackened and cracked, its once-glorious marble now spiderwebbed with ash-gray fractures. Wax from a hundred candles had melted into grotesque shapes, like tears frozen mid-fall. A relic of divine sanctuary—defiled.
By Richard Bailey8 months ago in Chapters
Veil of the Firstborn Part 5
The catacombs beneath Emberwatch sprawled like veins carved into stone, breathing with the distant hum of firebound power. Vaelin moved in silence, his grip steady on Elira as her breath slowed, the golden web of energy across her chest dimming. Every footfall echoed like a warning.
By Richard Bailey8 months ago in Chapters
Veil of the Firstborn Part 4
Snow drifted in lazy spirals through the dead forest as Vaelin and Elira followed the worn path that twisted toward the high ridge of Wyrmcliff. The trees here were ancient, blackened as though scorched by some long-dead fire, and none bore leaves. Even in the deep silence of the wild, something in the air felt taut—like an arrow nocked but not loosed.
By Richard Bailey8 months ago in Chapters
Veil of the Firstborn Part 3
The morning sun broke weakly through the dense mist coiling around the valley, painting everything in a pallid gold. Vaelin tightened the leather bracer on his forearm, eyes fixed on the path ahead where the abandoned temple loomed—half-swallowed by vines and crumbling stone. The relic they sought, the Shard of the Firstborn, was said to be hidden within. Rumor claimed it could sever or forge any bond, mortal or magical.
By Richard Bailey8 months ago in Chapters
Veil of the Firstborn Part 2
The light devoured everything for a moment. Vaelin squinted against the searing brightness, his body tense, sword ready. When the glare finally receded, he found himself standing at the mouth of a vast underground chamber, carved out by no hands he could recognize. The stone was smooth but unnatural, flowing as if it had melted and solidified again in twisting shapes. Vines clung to the walls like veins, pulsing faintly with some sickly inner light.
By Richard Bailey8 months ago in Chapters
Veil of the Firstborn Part 1
The storm had been waiting for them. By the time Vaelin and Elira crested the ridge into the northern wastelands, the sky was a crushed, bruised gray, torn open by claws of black lightning. The earth itself seemed uneasy, heaving shallow tremors beneath their boots. A metallic tang hung on the air, as if the ground were bleeding somewhere unseen. Neither of them spoke for a while. In the growing distance ahead, the remains of Hearthdeep, once a proud trade town, smoldered like the dying embers of a forgotten hearth. Stone buildings, once tall and proud, were now half-swallowed by broken earth and choking vines.
By Richard Bailey8 months ago in Chapters
The Broken Word – Part 5
The days that followed should have been a time of peace. The clans, cautiously at first, resumed old trade routes and opened council fires. The blood feud that had festered was soothed, if not fully healed. Word traveled across the provinces that the rift had been mended—and with it, Elira's name grew in places she'd rather have stayed forgotten.
By Richard Bailey8 months ago in Chapters
