Fantasy

Memories of a life before. Content Warning.
There are memories within us that don't belong to the one that we are,and yet they become reflected back at us from within each reflection we see. A different and incomplete version of ourselves looks back into our souls; it shows us the life we could have had if we could just recognise that there are qualities within us that we just can't acknowledge.
By Nadine Haighabout an hour ago in Fiction
A Dance at Midnight
By Royal Decree every seventy years to celebrate the aligning of the planets there was to be a grand festival; this festival was free and open to all: young and old, rich and poor, healthy and ill, and people of all races. While the festival itself was only one day, creatures came from all over the Quadrants for the event, so the local shopkeeps displayed their best and most colourful wares and offered special deals for days before. The inns and food vendors offered live music for their patrons and a wide variety of local and foreign foods were cooked, their aromas mixing in the streets. Throughout the city there were private parties for three days leading to the festival and for the next day after.
By Dionearia Redabout 3 hours ago in Fiction
The Return of Rübezahl
Introduction I always loved this piece by Amon Düül II and always wondered who Rübezahl was. The Wiki entry tells us all about this mountain spirit or woodwose (I have never heard that word before.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred about 7 hours ago in Fiction
Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves
Ali Baba was a poor woodcutter who lived on the edge of a small dusty village beside a long desert road. His home was made of old wood and cracked clay, and when the wind blew, sand slipped through the walls like quiet rain. Life had never been easy for him. Every morning before the sky turned golden, Ali Baba tied his worn sandals, lifted his old axe onto his shoulder, and walked deep into the forest to cut firewood.
By Omid khanabout 14 hours ago in Fiction
The Un-Punxsutawney Protocol. AI-Generated.
The year 2042 was, in many ways, unremarkable. Flying cars were still prototypes, sustainable energy was perpetually "just around the corner," and humanity still hadn't figured out how to make a decent cup of coffee that wasn't sentient. But for the small, snowy town of Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, February 2nd remained sacred.
By Alicia Leneaabout 14 hours ago in Fiction
TCoE: Climb
A scoff erupted from above. "You'll never make it," a man's ragged voice sneered. A twelve-year-old boy with messy dark hair and tan skin pulled his brown eyes from the parchment in his shaking hands. The sharp, resentful words cut his heart, leaving it frozen and gradually draining. The skinny lad was a bit taken aback by the stranger's harshness, but he mentally fought hard to brush it off. After a few moments, the bitter man who taunted the boy removed the hood of his cloak to reveal a scarred face. The man had wrinkly, tanned skin and long, dark hair.
By Mel E. Furnishabout 16 hours ago in Fiction
Calamity "Callie" Shortfuse. Content Warning.
So, Miss Shortfuse... Neat name. Very nice to meet you. May I call you Calamity? Callie, if it's all the same to ya. You only call me "Calamity," when you're beggin' for your life. So Callie is just fine.
By Madison "Maddy" Newtonabout 16 hours ago in Fiction
Lifetimes . Content Warning.
Jimmy I know I'll be risking my life if she chooses to run away with me, I think to myself as I sit on my bed in a shack barely big enough for me much less my mama and daddy and me but we somehow make it work. I hear mama knock on the door as she softly says sweetheart? I made you something to eat, come have supper with your father and I, she knows I haven't eaten much since the letter came about 3 days ago, mama and daddy don't know about everything that's in the letter just that I've been called to serve.
By cheyenne about 16 hours ago in Fiction
The Lovely Lute
I am the lovely Lute. I have pale, silver eyes with golden hair. I am young, about 25 years old, but wise beyond my years. All over my body are trace amounts of feathers—in my hair, on my shoulders and on my back.
By Madison "Maddy" Newtonabout 22 hours ago in Fiction
Syndra of the Silver Void
My parents were Sinaht and Rubarae, proud astral elves whom many looked up to. My mother, Rubarae, was a gifted healer while my father, Sinaht, was a studied philosopher, his gaze always fixated on the stars. Always.
By Madison "Maddy" Newtonabout 23 hours ago in Fiction
The Name is Sable Trevino
Sable Trevino is a slyborne katari rogue and active council member for the City of Eprieta. Clever and cunning as they come, Sable carries out her duties to the people as "Arbiter of the Veil," or the master of spies. Just think of her as a shadier version of Captain Amelia from Treasure Planet.
By Madison "Maddy" Newtonabout 23 hours ago in Fiction
We Stand in Moonlight
We walked around the castle’s defences again. The moon is full tonight and she is stronger than me. As we walk, the guards stare at us, probably wondering which one of us they watch. No one approaches us; they never do. We stand and watch the moon rise over the tallest tree that was planted generations ago. Soon, the moon will reach its highest point. We wait; she wants to see the castle’s lands by silver light and I have neither energy nor inclination to resist her. I do resist sometimes, usually out of anger but sometimes out of fear. Sometimes, the guards don’t even look at us, unsure of which one of us we are or of interrupting us. Sometimes, people even fear to approach us during the day, not even waiting until moonrise to wonder. I do not understand how they can make such a mistake; we act differently and dress differently – something that used to result in a fight, but I have since learned to pick the battles to expend energy on – and her eyes are silver. Even when we wear my clothing and the sun shines, our eyes give us away.
By Dionearia Reda day ago in Fiction