Series

Day 6: The Occurrence Eve. Content Warning.
…And Wolfman Patrick’s journal, extra scratchy bold like a kid scribbling on his desk. I think last night’s haul was a little light. Ron read my journal and was becoming sick of my apathetic fight against his journalistic integrity. No details too small, and if there’s some kind of prize money for this find, he’ll split it with me down the middle. I won’t talk—yet. It’s not the stringing him along, but in the case of an F.B.I. raid before the sacrifices start, that I may, with escape time, be a waste of a charge. Protection is cheap when everyone is desperate. Something I discovered holy while shitting off the boat's side.
By Willem Indigoabout a month ago in Fiction
Symbiotic: Chapter 46
Chapter 46 The volcano’s heart chamber pulsed with molten light, shadows dancing across jagged walls as the magma lake churned lazily. Sara sat down, cross legged upon the scorched stone. She pulled the Greatworm Egg from her Pocket Storage and cradled it before her in a cocoon of Soul and spore energy. Its crystalline shell shimmered faintly as the Hatchling within continued to feed on the powerful ambient Fire and Stone energies.
By Canyon Cappola (TheNomad)about a month ago in Fiction
Symbiotic: Chapter 45
Chapter 45 Sara’s Danger Sense thrummed like a war drum in her chest, pulsing louder with every step closer to the magma lake. Her newly Fire energy empowered Sporesight stretched outward to two hundred feet, its edges shimmering against the molten surface. She locked 1,000 microbes into the Sporesight, another 1,000 into her 20 foot Infectious Cloud, leaving 3,500 still free in her network. The numbers ticked in her mind like a ledger. Resources use required versus resources needed to survive. A constant tug of war, and not one that the environment favored her for.
By Canyon Cappola (TheNomad)about a month ago in Fiction
Symbiotic: Chapter 44
Chapter 44 Sara stood outside her Residence, the Greatworm Egg cradled against her side, spores drifting in a faint shimmer around it. Tas’s advice echoed in her mind: find a place of strong ambient energy for the bond to take root.
By Canyon Cappola (TheNomad)about a month ago in Fiction
PART III — THE SHADOW IN THE LANTERN
The floating platform buckled beneath Kael as the shadow beasts swarmed, their serpentine forms weaving through the shattered walkways like rivers of living night. The air thickened with magic—wild, unstable, electric.
By Alisher Jumayevabout a month ago in Fiction
PART II — THE SKY THAT REMEMBERS
The instant Kael and Elara stepped through the star-lit arch, the ground vanished beneath their feet. Wind roared around them. Colors bled like liquid starlight, swirling in impossible shapes—spirals of violet flame, rivers of gold flowing upward, fragments of constellations drifting like snow.
By Alisher Jumayevabout a month ago in Fiction
Symbiotic: Chapter 43
(Chapter 43 is, almost exclusively, just a rundown of Sara Bloom's Full Character Sheet. Highlighting not only her Personal Growth, but just how much she has done for Haven Valley as well. Again, if you didn't come here eager for some quality Statistic Analysis... Chapter 44 awaits!)
By Canyon Cappola (TheNomad)about a month ago in Fiction
THE LANTERN OF THE LAST SKY
Wind curled like silver ribbons along the cliffs of Asterfall, carrying scents of pine, cold stone, and something older—something the villagers only whispered about when night grew too still. As dawn painted the sky in molten rose, Kael Rowan, apprentice mapmaker, sat on the highest rock ledge with his boots dangling over the abyss.
By Alisher Jumayevabout a month ago in Fiction
A Young Boy Selling Umbrellas in a Rainy Village. AI-Generated.
Rain had a way of transforming the small mountain village. The dusty paths turned dark and glossy, the smell of wet earth rose into the air, and the sound of raindrops on tin roofs became a soft rhythm that echoed through every narrow lane. For most villagers, the rainy season meant staying indoors, waiting for the clouds to tire themselves out. But for twelve-year-old Rafi, it was the most important time of the year.
By Bilal Mohammadiabout a month ago in Fiction
The Kids’ Matinee That Never Happened
Projectionist here… something was sitting in Theater 6 this morning, and it wasn’t any of our customers. Hey everyone. Long-time lurker, first-time poster. I’ve worked at my local movie theater for about six years—mostly as a projectionist, which means I’m usually the first person in the building, alone, dealing with old equipment that likes to break at the most inconvenient possible moments.
By V-Ink Storiesabout a month ago in Fiction
Glass Winter | Chapter VIII
Under torchlight Palina could see all the layered veins of blue and green beneath the thin pearly skin of her hand. She brushed snow kernels off the surface of the ground surrounding the grease cradle, one of the many burning in the commune, and collected the powder into a tusk, which she handed to a builder making his way to the edge of the camp. The others remained to pocket the rest while Palina donned a mitten and proceeded to the cold corner, far from any flame.
By Andrei Babaninabout a month ago in Fiction
Symbiotic: Chapter 42
Chapter 42 Sara sat back on her heels, the Greatworm egg glowing faintly in its cocoon of spores. Her chest rose and fell with exhaustion, but there was a steadiness in her eyes now. She looked across the lake to Whistle, who had watched her struggle and endure without a word, his hawk perched calmly on his arm.
By Canyon Cappola (TheNomad)about a month ago in Fiction