Fantasy

Symbiotic: Chapter 33
Chapter 33 The chime of the System notification woke Sara before dawn, sharp and insistent in her mind. [Alert: Unauthorized Challengers detected at Haven Valley perimeter.
By Canyon Cappola (TheNomad)2 months ago in Fiction
Forgotten Kingdoms
The mist rolled across, across the valley, valley like a living thing, wrapping itself around the ankles of the lone traveler making his way to the crumbling stone, stone path. Elara stopped below it, running her fingers over the intricate carvings that were half swallowed by the moss. Guess what? They, they depicted stern-faced kings, moonlit sword-wielding warriors, and creatures he knew only from childhood fairy tales. I have always believed that these images were exaggerated and that artistic prosperity was born, born of superstition. Guess what? But as he stood here, on the threshold of the legendary Astern Valley, he wondered if the stories had not been embellished enough.
By Razimali2 months ago in Fiction
The last time I ever heard rain hit tin. Content Warning.
“The Last Time I Ever Heard Rain Hit Tin” That first drop landed on the roof like a marble on a cookie sheet. It wasn’t loud; it simply was — there. Then the sky cracked and poured out all of its contents.
By BHUMI2 months ago in Fiction
Symbiotic: Chapter 32
Chapter 32 Mind awhirl with this new information. That the battles she had fought thus far were only to qualify for the actual contest still to come. She stood and headed back into the main hallway, the statues of Haven Valley’s guardians watched silently as Tas shimmered into view beside her.
By Canyon Cappola (TheNomad)2 months ago in Fiction
Edit Your Perfect Future Baby?
Date: 17th December 2075 Imagine stepping into a future where creating a child feels less like biology and more like art. A world where parenthood begins not with uncertainty, but with possibility. Where a couple doesn’t just hope their child gets the “good genes”… they choose them.
By Sakuni Bandara2 months ago in Fiction
To Dust
The world ended on a Wednesday. Not with fire or thunder or a sudden vanishing—just a quiet, almost polite collapse. The sun rose pale. The air tasted metallic. And the dust, fine as ash and soft as winter breath, drifted from the horizon like a slow-moving tide.
By Alexander Mind2 months ago in Fiction
Symbiotic: Chapter 31
Chapter 31 The afternoon light slanted into evening as Sara wiped down the alchemy bench one last time. The workshop smelled faintly of herbs and crystal dust, and the vials she’d crafted gleamed neatly in her Pocket Storage.
By Canyon Cappola (TheNomad)2 months ago in Fiction
Symbiotic: Chapter 30
Chapter 30 Sara spent the rest of the morning weaving through the village streets, her boots crunching softly on the packed earth. Everywhere she went, villagers paused in their work to nod or bow, offering quiet thank yous. She returned their gratitude with a smile or a nod, never lingering too long, but always asking, “What do you think the valley needs next?”
By Canyon Cappola (TheNomad)2 months ago in Fiction
Christmas Tales ~ Merry Grinchmas!
One late night, the mean Grinch headed to Washington, D.C., determined to steal all Christmas trees, strings of lights, and decorations from homes and streets. Suddenly, he was confronted by a blinding beam of light!
By Mia Z. Edwards2 months ago in Fiction
Symbiotic: Chapter 29
Chapter 29 Sara strolled around town as she admired the System acquired buildings being built out of thin air around the newly expanded Market Square and listened to Tas’s provided updates.
By Canyon Cappola (TheNomad)2 months ago in Fiction
A Night at the Haunted House
It was a crisp winter night. The full moon hung bright in the sky with a hazy glow around it, casting an eerie light over the dark neighbourhood. Luca, Lucia, Alis, Kile, and I, Helen, stood on the street in front of the gate in the waist-high stone wall leading up the path to the worn-down house that everyone said was abandoned and haunted. It was the infamous haunted house, known for its chilling tales and ghostly sightings, things moving without reason and lights going on and off with no one in the room.
By Hermione2 months ago in Fiction
The Last Light in Room 217
I wasn’t supposed to notice the light in Room 217. The hallway of the old boarding house was usually a tunnel of darkness after midnight, lit only by a dying bulb that buzzed like an insect trapped behind glass. I’d lived there for eight months—long enough to memorize the limits of its shadows, the way the wallpaper peeled in places like tired skin, and the sighs the wooden floorboards made under my steps.
By tosarkastikomouegw 2 months ago in Fiction