fantasy
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I recently did a poll on Twitter mentioning an old short story from 2002 that I’d been meaning to write up for some time. I was thinking of simply re-writing it and publishing it *but* I thought I’d ask for some opinions (and thanks to the 3 people who gave me theirs haha). The more
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The dog stretched out of the cramped hole in the base of the great tree, yawning deeply. It had been a cool spring night and he sniffed at the fresh morning breeze that brought with it an undercurrent of death and decay from the surrounding forest. His pointed ears pricked up at the sounds of
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The old wizard walked with purpose, one hand grasping an intricately carved wooden staff, the other resting lightly on his weathered belt. You might expect him to be wearing a luxurious robe, as wizards are wont to do; in fact, he was dressed sensibly in woollen trousers, tunic and cape, for there was a long
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It started with a sacred weapon. Arthur was told from a young age he would inherit his father’s sword—his grandfather’s before him—and take up his rightful place as Hero of the Realm. And yet… And yet, the idea left him hollow. It wasn’t even fear—well, he had to admit, perhaps a little fear—but rather a
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The bell above my door rings and my heart jolts in my chest, sending a rush of adrenaline through my veins. I am torn; comfortable in my state of near-hibernation, reluctant to move… But this is my first visitor in months, drawn in by the ever-burning flame at the top of my tower—a waypoint in
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The oak tree stood vigil on the roadside. Travellers passed by along with the seasons and the tree saw the flourish of life and the rot of death, ever silent in its watch. And so it was that, on this particular morning, it felt a tug upon one of its lower branches; a sturdy limb
Lucy A. McLaren 