Overhead, the trees began to grow tangled and thicker, the dim patches of darkening sky strangled by encroaching greenery. The smell of soil and rotted leaves hung thick in the humid summer air.
All in Fantasy
The Fire and the Flower
On the day she was to be given to the dragon who lived in the mountain depths, Sukhon took the wicked knife she had laid beneath her mattress and hid it in her voluminous silken sleeves.
Secret Recipe
“I don’t know!” Amanda bellowed back from behind the relative safety of the kitchen island bench, clutching her grandpapa’s recipe book to her chest. Eyes screwed shut, as if it might go away if she didn’t look at it, she pulled her knees closer to her chest. “You were supposed to be a pie!”
Sea of the mind
Schools of memories in whirling, gleaming whorls and twisting dances scattered at her advance, flashing into darkness with bursts of light that illuminated, for the briefest of moments, their attendant thoughts until the dusky river swallowed them whole.
Star-kissed ruins
Hopefully it was territory-bound and wouldn't leave the cavern. I didn't know. I'd never encountered a manticore before.
The Ritual
The sigils were etched into the floor, carved deep into the highly polished wood with adze and awl and knife.
Shavi renjuzu
This story contains potential triggers.
In the distant past, when all creatures spoke the same language and magic flowed through the air as water flowed over the riverbed, there was a cave. In more modern times it would be called the cave of Chinhoyi, for the brave leader who sheltered his people from adversaries in its labyrinthine depths, but in those far-off days it had another name.
The Dead of Knight
Far above, the moon was barely half full, waning, much like the King's power. At least it would give them some light. And they would need it tonight.
Sand Piper
His hair was tangled with the weeds, his skins sleek and glossy with blood. I called my mama, for I was only young, then, and we took him up to the walkway and to our store.
Let the bells ring out
The arrows of Eros fly true and pin you like a butterfly, the wound opening new worlds, new sensations. Worshipful silence, the ancient songs, take on a new meaning, a bright and shining semblance in your mind as he fills your thoughts even as your lips shape words of devotion to another.