Historical
Ammit
"What has become of Amun's fruitful land?" A soul-weary Ammit thought as she breached the top of the cliff and swooped down into the blood-stained valley. Ammit's heart wept at the horror before her. A once beautifully carpeted glen full of swaying blue-green grass, bright red poppies, and a cacophony of wildflowers. Was now riddled with mangled, disfigured bodies as far as the eye could see. Swallowing the lump of grief that arose at the view, Ammit scanned the scene for any signs of life.
By Maize Scott3 years ago in Fiction
I Am The Feathered Serpent. Top Story - December 2022.
Ô Quetzalcoatl, Precious Serpent, Wisest of Men and Second Sun, please heal my daughter, though she has been cursed. Tlamacazqui says the White Teotls have hexed her with disease brought with the morning from across the vast ocean, and only you can save her, he says. Ô Quetzalcoatl, Precious Serpent, Creator of Worlds, God of the Winds and Mover of Cycles, please accept this offering and in return, heal my daughter as I send her to you.
By Claire Guérin3 years ago in Fiction
Kindrazl: The Highborn Chronicles - Season 1: Solace - Episode 1: Anima (Part 1)
anima (n.) – The base mentality of mind, defined as the overlap of four distinct animentals: persona, or how one identifies; thought, or what one thinks; emotion, or how one feels; and resolve, or what one does.
By Orion J. Zed3 years ago in Fiction
Exchange of Iron and Bee
There’s a vaguely plane-shaped hole in the ceiling of the forest, letting in the only large spanse of light in the otherwise gloomy and overgrown forest. A forest that doesn’t see much of human-like beings, only beasts of instinct and shadows of creatures. The air in this forest is humid and sticky, so dense that the trees and their creeping fingers, the lush blankets of moss, even the chaotic mess of downed trees and their magnificent corpses, seem to be the intense overgrowth of millenia.
By Noel Mallory3 years ago in Fiction
A Call To Action
The much expected Super Tucano jets finally arrived in July. They were in the public eye. The first batch of six came weeks earlier. By this time all twelve had been received by the Nigerian Air Force. The game changer was here, so they said. The President and his media handlers had much talked about these jets and promised that their arrival was going to be the harbinger of the end of banditry in the country. Now the people were elated. It was music to their ears. They couldn’t wait to see a new day. Like Diana Ross who didn’t care if her man was young or old, as long as he had muscles, the people were not asking for much on banditry; they just wanted to see the jets exercise their muscles and have a show-down with bandits and terrorists. It didn’t bother them that the government spent money like water in the purchase of those jets. Whether or not the President would have the political will to bomb the forests was the 64 million dollar question.
By Chris Aragon3 years ago in Fiction
The Yellow Hibiscus Chapter 21
It's too early to say." "What do you make of the florist's story? I am viewing it right now." "It doesn't make sense, does it?" Sgt. Booker explained. "A woman comes in with a Diamond to identify a flower. She hands it to Juan, and he goes up in spontaneous combustion! Sounds like science fiction to me. Diamonds will send you to the poor house, buying them, I mean, but they sure don't start fires or kill people."
By Annelise Lords 3 years ago in Fiction
The Secrets of the Unweather 1
The day began badly and got worse. The two vagabonds who woke him before dawn were after his food and money. He had little of either and now he had none. It was careless to sleep in the woods but he’d been tired and the next village was several leagues away.
By Alex Markham3 years ago in Fiction
The Worsley Family Locket: Chapter 3 - Arthur and Clarence
It is not possible to explain what occurred next, without speaking about your more senior siblings. How your eldest brother Clarence carried himself, was the epitome of the household’s ever-lasting cruelty and neglect. Aged just 13 when I first encountered him, he lambasted my beggared condition and inferior status with eloquence beyond his years. Irresolutely an intelligent boy, but one who utilised his perceptiveness and quick-thinking with callous intent. A disdainful slug of a whelp, on the very brink of blossoming into a vile moth that was drawn toward opportunities to torture and belittle like flickering candlelight. I was victimised relentlessly by the child, who seemed to claim a wilful disliking to me from the very moment he encountered me. He taunted me for my work, stole my possessions which only rarely returned to me destroyed and even physically struck me when his loathing was made its most bold. The women of the manor he treated with similar disregard. His younger sisters Ida and Helen were positively terrified of him. Yet Lady Ethel, before she came to know the locket with such lamentable affinity, remained smitten. He was, after all, the first child she’d birthed. Regrettably however, those affections had never been mutual. Clarence only behaved with any civility around his father, though even this was demonstrably lacking in sentiment. He had eyes only for his father’s capacity for prosperity and influence, and declared a divine right to a share in his prestige, though to my eyes it was utterly unearned whenever he received it. A dreadful young swine through and through, but one with a certain ruthlessness that had already sniffed the alluring scent of ascendancy; traits that often collude to put a rotten fruit at the forefront of the grocer’s stalls.
By Matthew Curtis3 years ago in Fiction
