Fantasy

Flower Among Vermin
Prologue History of the Realm For eons, peace ruled over Oredasa and its two continents; Ta’Eel and Livare`. As time went by and the various races came into being, the human race soon came to grow greedy and aggressively territorial. Resources and precious metals were not enough to satiate them and they began to seek power from ancient and forbidden sources; from this chaos began the greatest civil war in humanity’s history.
By Justin Young4 years ago in Fiction
The Shepherd
They say an owl is to the night what an eagle is to the day; that birds are messengers from the spirit world to communicate with us. Cardinals are thought to be loved ones visiting us from the hereafter. Blue Jays are a sign of our need to communicate and remain resilient. Crows and Ravens are thought to be angels giving us a glimpse into our future… the list goes on and on. Every bird on this planet has a spiritual symbolism attached to it.
By Jennifer Gulbrandsen4 years ago in Fiction
Wishes of Monsters. Runner-Up in Return of the Night Owl Challenge.
[CW: implications of child abuse] The world churned and constricted as the coin slipped between Gemma’s fingers. It slipped down into the velvety blackness. Gemma waited, unbreathing. In a moment, three things happened. A tinkling splash echoed up the well, the world unfurled and expanded, and a strange voice filled the space surrounding Gemma.
By Shaw4 years ago in Fiction
Double Crescent
As dusk approaches, I find myself in the barn finishing my chores with the horses. Most are rounded up and laying on a soft bed of hay. I leave the barn in search of Simon, a timid brown Quarter horse, back to the barn and I see a large bird in the sky flying above the treeline. I dismiss it with a shrug and assume it's just the hawk that lurks nearby.
By Madelyne McClure4 years ago in Fiction
Dreams of a bird
Once upon a time, not so long ago a bird gotten in to this beautiful world of ours. It was a day of summer, the sun was burning under a few shy clouds scattered by a soft wind, the grass was slightly dry holding herself proud against the soft wind that tickles the spiky heads of the proud grass and the wide blue sky welcomed the little one in to the world that we know. Her home was on a branch of a tree grown near a top of a mountain. Close to her was her father , a strong white bird of pray. Little that the bird knew her mother was killed by so called a human being to be used as a decoration in one of their houses, for them to look at her beauty that in their mind was captured and well preserved for eternity. But the little one is not grown enough to be told that yet.
By Nicoleta Panoiu4 years ago in Fiction
SIR ROBERT HENRY AND THE ROSE
I used to love the way the scent of the old barn spilled out onto the field in front of our home. The tobacco leaves dryin’ from the wooden beams like fresh earth was cast out on the open breeze in some triumphant wake. Like fresh cut grass in the mornin’ when the dew is still settlin’ and hasn’t yet been tamed by the sun. It made me happy.
By Richard J. Phillips4 years ago in Fiction
Guardian of the Night
5:04 am Read the screen of my phone. It seems my internal alarm clock has chosen five in the morning, being that I keep waking up at this chosen hour every. single. day.
By megan romaya4 years ago in Fiction
The Regrets of a Fallen Warrior
The Regrets of the Fallen Warrior There was a warrior, but not just any warrior. Not a sellsword, or a mercenary or a mere soldier, no, this warrior was a champion of the Light, a paragon of Order. A hero. This warrior came home one day to find that everything that mattered to him was gone. Everyone that he ever loved, taken from him - his children? Murdered. His parents? Murdered. His wife? His wife…she was found in such a state, that murder…mere murder would have been a mercy.
By Michael Mayr4 years ago in Fiction
Fall of Mages
High in the mountains, far above the battlefield, Ardgal sighed. The air used to be thick with magical potential, it warmed him, cushioned him, comforted him. Now, without the other mages, the air felt thin, as if he ventured too high up the mountain on which he resided. It felt cold, empty, and it was hard to breathe.
By Christopher Kelly4 years ago in Fiction
Something Strange
Willow There’s something strange all around. I can feel it hanging heavy in the air like a corpse from a tree branch. I stand beneath a canopy of evergreens. Soft firelight, partially obscured by the cover of trees illuminates my little clearing. A flutter of wings beats against my ears in a soft drumbeat. I snap my head down to the sound of landing little feet. A barn owl stands on the ground three feet from me. Slowly I bend down and extend my forearm. It hops up onto my arm, talons sinking deep enough to draw little rubies of blood. I bring it close to my face. Our eyes meet. It twists its head around. I reach out and place my hand over it's face, feeling the cool surface of its sharp beak. Gently but firmly I pull its head back around. “You have nothing to fear,” I breathe like the whisper of a winter breeze. “I won’t harm you.” It cocks its head, round eyes staring into my blue ones. It knows something. It’s trying to tell me something. “Willow we need you,” Rylan calls from the campfire, her voice joking. Laughter erupts from her and Freya, the only other people in these woods just now. “Come back to the fire!” I don't answer her, instead I keep on watching the owl, desperate to collect whatever knowledge it's holding captive. “What do you know?" It straightens its head back up, steps one, two, three, foot to foot, along my arm. Perhaps it’s trying to tell me about the world. I think it’s crumbling, about to cave in on itself. There’s something lurking on the horizon, and it will end lives. It will take so many souls from so many bodies, bursting them open like chests full of treasure. My heart soars at the thought, and it’s one of the strangest things I’ve ever felt. Perhaps it’s trying to tell me about me. About the strangeness I feel expanding from deep within myself like a ghostly ocean. I might just drown in it soon. Or maybe I'll breathe it down like a breath of fresh air. Unable to unlock the doors behind the owl’s eyes, I throw it up into the air, and watch as it flies away into the night sky.
By Nadia 4 years ago in Fiction
Two Night Hunters
The winter had been long. The first snows had come earlier than ever. The hunter had not been prepared. The fall was a time of preparations, and while they had not been neglectful in their practices for the coming snows when they came so soon, there was little to be done except to hope that the goddesses would be merciful. Then again, what did those mighty entities care for one lone hunter in all the world?
By Jacob Green4 years ago in Fiction
The Forest Council
It was late. Later than she’d realised. But she never normally got lost, she knew these woods like the back of her hand, she relied on that. But this part, this part here was different. She knew that she’d never seen it before. There were no sounds of distant cars or dogs barking, no sounds at all. It was unnaturally quiet. More like a tomb than a forest. And then, a rustle and snap. Like a twig snapping and someone clicking their fingers simultaneously. She gasped as she sensed movement behind her.
By Nessy Writer4 years ago in Fiction