The chipped ceramic of the teacup warmed Lyric’s palms, but did little for the chill burrowing into her bones. Dust motes danced in the single shaft of light slicing through the shuttered window. Valor hadn’t walked in months. Not since…
Lysanthemum’s fingers, stained lavender from the emotion threads, trembled. Each strand pulsed with a memory, a longing, a joy—the echoes of lives connected. She’d spent decades harvesting these luminous filaments, weaving them into the grand tapestry of the city of…
The grit tasted of regret. Ada spat, the fine red dust coating her tongue like a second skin. Eldan hadn’t just *fallen* to the storms; it had been *eaten*. One moment, carved sandstone buildings gleamed, the next, swallowed whole by…
The salt spray tasted like regret. Rain lashed the chrome towers of New Aethelburg, a city built on the bones of old Atlantic City, a place nobody remembered rightly. Below, the fractured boardwalk—more glass and bioluminescent algae than wood—reflected the…
The rain tasted like static. Old Man Tiber, they called him, though nobody knew if he *was* an old man anymore, or just a construct wearing the skin of one. His shop, a cubbyhole wedged between a noodle stall and…
Crafting Compelling Fantasy Worlds in 2025 Fantasy writing is a portal to boundless creativity, where authors wield the power to craft epic tales, mythical creatures, and immersive worlds that captivate readers. In 2025, the genre continues to thrive, blending traditional…