Excerpt

The Red Mage and the Thief
The Emberlight Covenant The city of Jeuno rose from the cliffs like a dream of white stone, its spires tipped in banners that swayed in the salt wind. Bridges as narrow as a dagger’s edge arched over the chasms between towers and the streets hummed with the life of a hundred nations. Traders hawking wares from desert caravans and smiths hammering sparks into fresh-forged steel; wandering minstrels singing in tongues from the farthest reaches of Vana’diel.
By Cadma6 months ago in Fiction
The Almost of Her. Winner in The Shape of the Thing Challenge.
Zelma’s hair is the color of honey when the light hits it just right. Not the raw kind, but golden and warm, the kind you find in glass jars on corner store shelves, glowing under cheap fluorescent bulbs. Her skin reminds you of the color of the sun, almost like the warmest day yet crisp day in Autumn. But her face semi broad nose, full lips, almond eyes with matching mono-lids whispers a different story. People never know what to make of her.
By Cadma6 months ago in Fiction
The Child and the Lion
The forest was old—its trees tall and thick, their branches weaving together like whispered secrets of time. Moss blanketed the earth, soft under bare feet, and the scent of pine, earth, and wildflowers filled the air. Birds chirped, wind hummed through the leaves, and somewhere in the distance, the low growl of a predator echoed faintly.
By Saeed Ullah 6 months ago in Fiction
The Goat and the Lion
The Goat and the Lion – A Tale of Trust in the Heart of the Wild In the valley of Taramara, where tall pines brushed the clouds and silence hung like mist over the earth, a tale bloomed—one that the forest creatures still whisper on windy nights. It is the story of a goat and a lion. Two souls, so different in strength, in purpose, and in destiny—yet bound by something neither claws nor horns could touch: trust.
By Saeed Ullah 6 months ago in Fiction
The Last Roar
The Last Roar In the heart of an ancient jungle where time seemed carved into tree bark and whispered through leaves, two kings ruled in silence—the lion and the wolf. One was the traditional sovereign of the savannah, a creature of golden mane and commanding roar. The other, a shadow from the mountains—silver-eyed, silent, and ruthless.
By Saeed Ullah 6 months ago in Fiction
Echoes Across the Stream
Story: The scent of pine and musty wood rose from the forest floor, whispering secrets through the rain. A splintered stump lay beside a trickling stream, its jagged edges like broken memories carved into time. Rain drizzled gently through the canopy above, each drop falling like a heartbeat against the earth. One fell from a low-hanging branch, slipping down the back of an elephant’s ear and sliding down his thick grey skin. He did not flinch. He simply stood, unmoving, eyes staring ahead—toward something only he seemed to see.
By Saeed Ullah 6 months ago in Fiction
*The Great Goat Escape*
In the quiet village of Chamakpur, where the days passed like slow-moving clouds and the loudest sound was usually the rooster’s morning call, one creature had a talent for turning calm into comedy: Bakri No. 47.
By meerjanan6 months ago in Fiction
*The Mysterious Suitcase*
It was a quiet Tuesday morning in the village of Nangal, the kind where even the chickens seemed to yawn in slow motion. Shabir, the tea stall owner, wiped down his counter with a faded cloth, the kettle humming softly beside him. That’s when he saw it—a black suitcase, sitting upright on the wooden bench outside his shop, as if it had been waiting for someone important.
By meerjanan6 months ago in Fiction
When the Lion Fell
When the Lion Fell — A Tale of Two Foxes and the Rise of a New Reign The forest does not forget. Its soil drinks stories, its trees bear scars, and its wind carries whispers too old for time to erase. Deep in this wilderness—where shadows are longer than memory—ruled a lion named Azhdar. His mane was thick with dried blood, his claws dulled from too many kills. He did not roar to speak, he roared to silence. He was not a king. He was a tyrant.
By Saeed Ullah 6 months ago in Fiction
*The Last Light*
In the quiet town of Crestwood, where mornings began with a soft veil of fog draping over the hills and the cobblestone streets held the echoes of generations, lived a woman named Elara. She wasn’t loud or bold, but people remembered her—her stillness, the way she listened like every word mattered, and the faint sadness in her eyes that somehow felt comforting, like the hush before snowfall.
By meerjanan6 months ago in Fiction
The Thorns of the Wild
Story: The forest never forgets. Its roots carry whispers, and its wind howls with ancient truths. Beneath its leafy canopy, stories of betrayal and survival are etched into every stone, claw-marked tree, and crimson puddle.
By Saeed Ullah 6 months ago in Fiction
Whispers Beneath the Pines
In the far edges of the old forest, where the pine trees bend like monks in prayer and moonlight hangs heavy like secrets, two foxes moved side by side. One was swift, amber-eyed, her steps light as wind over water. The other, limping but proud, carried old scars that time refused to erase. Their names were lost to the world, but to each other, they were everything.
By Saeed Ullah 6 months ago in Fiction