fantasy
Celebrating the fantastical. Let your imagination run wild.
The Owl Mage
Chase grumbled as he sat up in the bed. They had warned him when he bought the old farm that he might have some predators still stalking around. Jeez, he didn’t even have any livestock yet. He fumbled around for the light switch beside the bed knocking over the glass of water be had placed there. He cursed then searched for some pants and a shirt. His shot gun was propped up by the bedroom door for easy access. Four legged predators weren’t the only things to worry about. He thought about bringing his pistol then thought better of it. He was proficient at both but he didn’t think he would need the pistols accuracy. He wasn’t ready to go on a killing spree just yet. There wasn’t anything out there to kill so maybe a warning would do to keep the would-be predators at bay.
By ALPHAS WICKER5 years ago in Futurism
Nevermore
Synopsis: Two hundred years have elapsed since World War Seven and the wraths of Gods upon mankind. Many nations have disappeared on the surface of the earth, and a city rises from the scorched ruins, under the dominion of the Church. Those who have survived, sought sanctuary in the Church. To atone for humanity’s sins, the Church has mandated a series of verdicts to the citizens of Unified Nations of Arkras (What used to be the state of Arkansas) to live under, in order not to anger the Gods, again. In a city where people live in constant fear of the Church and the Gods, violating a single rule has dire consequences, including death.
By Trixie Musasa5 years ago in Futurism
Shamlin's Fall
Before history was documented, the Druids were a people of magic. They lived on their own island to the north. The other races came from the mainland in search of enchantments from the Druids. Countless Druid villages flourished during this time, then one day their magic became tainted. The taint made it impossible for their magic to have predictable outcomes.
By Robyn N Center5 years ago in Futurism
Wildwing the Protector
I glide through the still, dark night, surveying my domain. The cool air rushes by, slightly ruffling my face feathers. The wispy clouds are lacy and white, tinged with gray. They are floating doilies, and they whisper in my ears the secrets from the day. The tranquil full moon backlights me and creates my shadow, a majestic silhouette that glides over the foliage and flora. The small critters of the night scatter as they see it, and I give out a triumphant screech as I soar, then swoop and dive, so I can move closer to inspect the ground.
By Heather Mitchell Manheim5 years ago in Futurism
Glimpsing the Future
In the highest mountains, there are few conversations. But that was the point. Whether for self-exile from society or simply a retreat from the pointless noise it produced; people and creatures who made the rocky elevation their home did not care. Snowcapped peaks, blistering winds, and the whistle of dancing flora were more than enough for the sole resident of the crag. Though villagers did occasionally venture to her home with requests of farm equipment or passage to lands beyond, their words were often caught in their throat over what they saw behind the anvil. None of that mattered, though. Between the song of the mountains and the stories of the Sparks, there was never a true silence.
By Raye Cufley5 years ago in Futurism
The Girl who was no longer bored
The last day she was bored. As a child, Alicia was always happy. She always kept busy, sometimes this was playing with friends sometimes this would be drawing. This changed as her generation became accustomed to so many sources fighting for their ever-diminishing attention span. Causing issues of desensitization from overstimulation. This caused feelings of boredom and isolation within the real world. This affected Alicia greatly in her tween years, only getting worse as a teenager this isolation and boredom became a perpetual state of being for her. This was characterized by her unofficial catch phrase "I is bored."
By Ricky Tucker Jr5 years ago in Futurism
Wonder
The room was empty and old. The floorboards had bowed in several places with a thick coating of dust covering the tops of the ancient timber. The windows were covered by heavy drapes which were drawn shut. The only light in the room came from a flickering fire, crackling away in the fireplace. The scent of burning wood drifted through the air as the smouldering embers ensured the continued warmth of the room.
By Joshua Maggs5 years ago in Futurism
