Part 1
Voice of the Holy Spirit
I heard a Pastor say this: “The flesh seeks entertainment, distraction, and wants a busy mind. This allows it not to face the Spirit.” I found this topic to be so interesting years ago, after I was saved. I had read in the Word many times about the flesh and the spirit. And, when I heard this Pastor preach on this, it brought it back home to me. We are born in the flesh, with sin in us. We are given the conscience as a guide and a warning system built inside of us. But, as we know, conscience is ignored over and over. We know how it can quietly lie dormant, waiting for its later purpose. It will be our testimony against us in the end.
By Kadee Grace7 months ago in Chapters
The Spiritual Arsenal: Du’ā as Warfare
The Spiritual Arsenal: Du’ā as Warfare Reviving Forgotten Power Neglecting spiritual resistance caused today’s paralysis. The Prophet ﷺ taught: "Du’ā is the weapon of the believer" (al-Ṭabarānī). During Isra’ wal-Mi’raj, he petitioned Allah against Mecca’s oppressors – not with missiles, but tears at Fajr. Revive this legacy:
By Mahdi H. Khan7 months ago in Chapters
The Gravedancer’s Waltz Part - 1
The forest grew too still. Even the wind held its breath as the trio stepped beyond the last line of trees and beheld the forgotten ruin of Valemire Estate. Moonlight glazed the crumbling spires, and the ivy-strangled balconies jutted like bones from a rotted corpse. The manor stood silent on a hill of frost-hardened grass, its many windows aglow with flickering gold light that could not, should not, exist.
By Richard Bailey7 months ago in Chapters
I Was Never Stupid. Content Warning.
Every story starts with a normal boy or a normal girl living their normal life. It makes sense—most people are normal. Most people fall neatly between the lines of what’s considered “normal.” Those characters were meant to be relatable. But they never were to me. I always found them... kind of dumb.
By Calie Judy Brooks7 months ago in Chapters
The Ember and the Crown - Part 1
The summons arrived with the quiet weight of a blade unsheathed in darkness. Wrapped in scarlet vellum and sealed with the sun-crowned crest of Drevril, the parchment exuded an unnatural warmth, like paper left too close to flame. The sigil binding it glimmered faintly with threads of memory-ink, a craftwork so precise that even Elira, standing several feet away in the shadowed inn loft, could feel the thrum of imitation power.
By Richard Bailey7 months ago in Chapters












