Fantasy
The Blossoming of the Marigolds
“Tell me again, the story of the dragon of Ellengrand, father.” “Alright then ma boy, never lack curiosity do ya? I’ve told the story bout’ a hundred times by now, but who am I not to make merry of the past?” The sharp night wind whistled through the sky and brushed the fire separating the two of us. A lick of embers traveled upward, disappearing to the sky. Father took a long draw from his ashwood pipe and began my favorite tale from the archive of his memories.
By James U. Rizzi4 years ago in Fiction
Alchemist
It wasn't coming back to me, so I took a walk in the garden again. See, some of the old texts are rather difficult to translate. Faded spots, mis-translations, deliberate obfuscations, coded language - you name it, I've seen it a dozen times and more. It can drive you mad, wondering if "Blood Stone" means haematite or heliotrope. There's a slight difference between those two! The first is an iron ore that seems to "bleed" when you drill it under water (and you'd better use water, don't inhale that dust!), and the other is a quartz-heavy jasper of the green variety that looks like it has drops of blood-
By Meredith Harmon4 years ago in Fiction
From Dawn to Dusk
The moist scents of the rain forest began to fade, replaced by a steadily growing foul stench. Amonsun-Ra curled his lips up in a grimace, the unique scent of The Stench filling his nostrils. The Stench was the result of the overflow from the forest’s year round rains. This marshy waste was a natural barrier around his people’s home, preventing most outsiders from entering the rain forest.
By Catherine Guillotte4 years ago in Fiction
Worlds Apart
By 10 the only person left in the office was Brooklyn; even the cleaning crew had gone home for the day. She leaned as far back as she could in her chair to look out the wall of glass behind her. It had taken her two years to get the corner cubicle. It was cold in the winter and warm in the summer but in her mind, it was worth it.
By Jennifer Brown4 years ago in Fiction
My Clan
Miles under the icy earth, the snow, the sleet, the rain, is an entirely different world. Where gold pours through faerie’s fingertips, where mini waterfalls fall in sheets of clean, cold, fresh liquid. Where tiny, tinkling laughs blanket the ground in joy and summer. Where love, happiness, and flowers roam, where the weary find new strength, and where I live. I know the faeries names by heart, indigo, snapshoot, stem, sky, raven, morningale. I know every blade of grass, every crumb of dirt. I can see the marigolds running across the sunny sky, the miniature ponds, some still frozen from our early winter, reflecting their golden blades. Marigolds have always been my favorite flower. I step out across the threshold of my house, taking a moment to breath in the fresh scent of glory. I run to the edge of our tiny platform, looking out across the long stretch of land that floats so far from earth. Hundreds of the sky clan live here in tiny houses, my clan. I am the daughter of the chief, and I have always been happy with my lot. I follow the path to the real edge, looking down at the land so far below. I whistle, once, twice, and my bird, Sapphire, whistles back. It soars through the sky towards me, its little blue body blending with the white and azure of the sky and clouds behind it.
By And I am Nightmare4 years ago in Fiction
Green Day
The sun was blinding, almost as if an artist had dropped a splatter of white paint on the otherwise bleak canvas. The world had practically been washed away, it had left the grass a dirty brown color rather than the vibrant green it once was, trees barely stood anymore-if they did, they were dead rotting corpses, shells of the nature that used to fill the land. A flashing green light had gone off one day and the world had been plunged into chaos, nobody knew where the fateful light came from and nobody knew how it had been triggered-but that didn’t matter anymore, resources were scarce and humanity had been destroyed-at least that is how it seemed to nineteen-year-old Nathaniel, and six-year-old Chloe. “Where are we going?” Chloe asked, wrapping her fingers through Nathaniel’s, squeezing his hand for a sense of comfort. “I’m not entirely sure.” Nathaniel responded, looking around warily. He hadn’t gotten much sleep the last few days, the dirt ground didn’t make the most comfortable surface to nap on. Chloe seemed to have an ample amount of energy no matter how far they traveled or how little sleep they got. Nathaniel knew they were still in the city they grew up in from the half-destroyed road signs that marked the sides of the dirt paths which had once been major motorways or main roads. Everything seemed so bleak now, there wasn’t a morsel of hope left in their world. They hadn’t seen another living person in weeks-the last one they saw looked like something out of a zombie apocalypse movie-he was wandering around staring at nothingness, he seemed to look straight through them- as if they were just ghosts in the wind. Nathaniel wouldn’t let them end up like that, this horrific plague-like environment would have to kill them before he let them turn into zombies. They stumbled down the dirt road, Nathaniel’s legs ached in a protest-every inch of his calf muscle screamed for him to stop for a moment but they needed to power on. They needed to find some sort of humanity, he refused to give up hope that they would someday find a group of people that would help them. He had no idea where his parents had disappeared to but he doubted they were alive, he didn’t have the heart to tell Chloe that her parents may be dead so he told her they were on a journey to find them and that’s why they couldn’t slow down. “Nathaniel.” Chloe said in a quizzical tone, he knew another question was coming-she asked about a hundred questions a day, and while he would normally snap at her for asking so much, he understood why she was so curious-she was only six and this was all rather over whelming. “Where are mum and dad?” Nathaniel felt his heart shatter, little fractures crept around the edges and squeezed It until he felt a pang of pain and sympathy. He didn’t know how to answer that question
By Emani Lawson 4 years ago in Fiction
Monsieur Death
Evangeline I followed Plague up the steps of a chapel. Call me naïve, but I was so angry I couldn’t think. I thought back to the time me and him were on the lawn. I told him it wasn’t right that these gods got to pick on whoever they wanted. It wasn’t right that they should be able to decide who deserved to die. He’d agreed with me. And all along, I was the one he was waiting for. All along, he was doing it behind my back. The very thing we had agreed wasn’t right. Just thinking about it made me grit my teeth. The worst part about it was I was actually starting to put our differences aside and- let’s not beat about the bush- like him. He was the sweetest person I’d ever met. Person, god, whatever. And I had known it was stupid, falling for a god, but I thought there was a chance he reciprocated. He’d seemed happy when I’d decided to come with him. But no, he just needed to make sure I was near him so he could be sure I died. He didn’t just not like me, he couldn’t wait for me to die. A sick feeling clenched my stomach. I’ll ignore him. I told myself. I’ll save the world and then die. I’ve always wanted to know what that would be like anyway. And I’ve always expected to die before I was older. But if me and Liam… maybe living wouldn’t be so bad. Plague’s scratchy voice broke through my angry thoughts.
By And I am Nightmare4 years ago in Fiction
Monsieur Death
Liam “This all your fault.” Evangeline mumbled for the tenth time. We were sitting opposite cells. The officer had arrested us as soon as he caught up. Neither of us struggled. Nobody could understand us or talk to us. They said they were getting a translator, but it had already been two hours and she was getting impatient.
By And I am Nightmare4 years ago in Fiction
Monsieur Death
Liam We woke up in India. I had never blacked out before, and the experience wasn’t pleasant. However, despite how uncomfortable the actual blacking out was, waking up was ten times worse. I ached all over, and the cold marble floor wasn’t helping. Evangeline had woken yet. I figured my body had more resilience then hers due to my past god form. I hadn’t thought of that. What if she couldn’t survive passing through a portal?
By And I am Nightmare4 years ago in Fiction
