Category: Short Stories

  • A Prayer for the Thirteen

    A prayer for the Thirteen To all the gods and none. To all those who may give solace to those who died, we pray now. May any who may be listening, hear these prayers. The Elements We give thanks to those who gave us the elements. Those who fell in the Sphere of Five were held fast, to the ever turbulent call of nature. A Prayer to Mumbai To the city of earth, the churning […]

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  • Three Trees Recruitment

    It was a shack. Set in the middle of the woods, a full two leagues away from anything and anybody. A tiny ramshackle little hut, with a sign post out. It said that it was with Three Trees Trading Company. A boast, for something so small. But this wasn’t one of their myriad shops that dotted the landscape. Even for such a remote location it was less travelled than one would think, with no goods to […]

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  • Coffee Break

    He was Pallin Kask. That Pallin Kask. The last of the Mourning Swords. The terror of Yann, he who tamed the great Beast of Mal. He was trying to decide on a drink. The barmaid stood there, trying her best not to tap her fingers against the table. The knight was a nice enough sort. Nice enough to look at. Golden flowing locks over burnished silver plate armor. Melancholia was buckled across the back of […]

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  • A Star Alone: The Texas Chronicles

    The Wall and Judith Mackowitz I know the government would like a glorious story. A tale that makes us heroes, and sometimes we were. Sometimes we were villains, a hated breed. Others we were nothing at all. Here’s the truth of it. Over eight hundred years of it. The bombs fell. And it sucked somethin’ awful. Fire and death and poison that choked the world on its own bile. Something that couldn’t be ignored. Brother was […]

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  • Proper War

    On Thursday it was Mrs. Lana Milkshade’s turn to host the monthly dinner party. It wasn’t really, but poor Mrs. – excuse us, Ms. – Glory Nalus’ house was the latest of recent conflagrations, and she simply did not have the necessary living room to host the event. Mrs. Milkshade’s house also had a lovely view of the suburban areas where the elemental spirits were currently vying for control. The electricity and magma were mixing […]

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  • Promethean Sparks

    “Spells. Sparks. That’s how the story starts.” Professor Metteus ended his class every day with the exact same words. They didn’t seem to be a quotation, or even have some deep meaning. Certainly the man never explained the words or why he said them every day. Every day, just like this one, he would lean against the front of the desk, stare ahead into the class, and wait. He would almost expect an answer to […]

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