Children's Fiction
The Thief and the Prince – Chapter 2: Farewell, Paevia
Farewell, Paevia Dawn crept slowly over the kingdom of Althera, painting the sky in faint gold and silver, but the light could not soften what the land had become. Smoke still rose from the lower districts, and the cold wind carried the smell of ashes.
By Wings of Time about a month ago in Chapters
The Bridge That Grew Longer at Night
A wooden bridge stretched across a river but extended itself at night for lost travelers. Each step on the nighttime bridge showed memories of moments where life could have changed. At dawn, the bridge returned to its normal size, leaving travelers with the wisdom they needed to choose differently.
By GoldenSpeechabout a month ago in Chapters
The River That Refused to Flow Backward
A village begged a magical river to reverse its flow so they could relive happier days. The river answered by rising gently and whispering, “Water moves forward so hearts can too.” The villagers learned to honor memory without drowning in it. They built bridges not to the past, but toward each other.
By GoldenSpeechabout a month ago in Chapters
The Bookstore That Rearranged Your Life
A peculiar bookstore reorganized itself every midnight, placing exactly the books each visitor needed the next day. Some found courage in a forgotten poem; others found clarity in a dusty philosophical volume. A widower discovered a children’s book that helped him speak to his grief. The owner admitted she didn’t move the books—the books moved themselves.
By GoldenSpeechabout a month ago in Chapters
The Orchestra of Invisible Instruments
In a hidden amphitheater, musicians played instruments that could not be seen. They relied solely on memory and emotion to produce sound. Their concerts moved audiences to tears—not because of perfection, but because listeners heard their own memories in each note. It was rumored the instruments became visible only when someone finally forgave themselves.
By GoldenSpeechabout a month ago in Chapters
The Compass That Spun Only for the Honest
An explorer owned a compass that worked only when he spoke the truth. If he lied, it spun endlessly. Over years, the compass taught him that honesty leads to clearer paths than any map. When he died, the compass stopped spinning forever—as if content that his life no longer needed direction.
By GoldenSpeechabout a month ago in Chapters
The Woman Who Could Hear Footsteps of the Future
A woman heard faint footsteps behind her, though no one followed. Over time, she realized they were her own footsteps from the future, guiding her choices. When they finally stopped, she knew she had reached the moment where the future waited for her decision alone.
By GoldenSpeechabout a month ago in Chapters
The Candle That Learned to Burn Cold
A candle in a monastery burned with cold flame, warm enough to glow but cool enough to touch. Monks meditated beside it, learning that not all illumination must consume. When the candle melted completely, they preserved the wick, realizing its lesson: enlightenment should guide, not scorch.
By GoldenSpeechabout a month ago in Chapters
The Horse That Ran Toward Sunsets
A wild horse galloped west every evening, chasing sunsets like a lover. People thought it foolish until a philosopher explained: “What matters is not reaching the sun, but refusing to stop seeking beauty.” When the horse grew old, villagers saw it standing peacefully in a crimson horizon, satisfied that it had chased every dusk life offered.
By GoldenSpeechabout a month ago in Chapters
The Bridge Made of Promises
A river separated two villages until people decided to build a bridge using metaphorical promises turned into stones. Broken promises shattered instantly; kept promises formed solid steps. It took years, but eventually the bridge stood firm—built entirely from honesty. Travelers said that crossing it made them feel strangely accountable.
By GoldenSpeechabout a month ago in Chapters
The Old Man Who Followed His Shadow
An old man noticed his shadow walking slightly ahead of him one evening, moving with determination. Curious, he followed. The shadow guided him to a forgotten childhood place—an abandoned swing beneath an oak tree. Sitting down, he felt years fall away. His shadow rejoined him as if saying: “Sometimes, the way forward lies behind.”
By GoldenSpeechabout a month ago in Chapters
