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 October chill bit through Thomas’s patched coat, each gust off the Thames a slap in the face. Cobblestones slicked with drizzle reflected the gaslights in distorted halos. He tasted soot, even with the damp air. It clung to everything…
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…
The chipped stone bit into my palms as I scaled the tenement wall. Dublin throbbed below, a raw nerve stretched tight. Not from the fighting, not yet. It was the *other* thing. The shadow slipping between alleys, faster than a…
The chipped ceramic of the mug warmed Hauden’s palms, a pale contrast to the fiery sunset bleeding across the skyline. Every window in the tower district blazed with reflected gold—the Sun-Kissed, they called themselves, their skin practically luminous, personalities to…
The fever rattled Janek’s bones. Not the heat, though that clung like wet wool, but the *seeing*. It began with soot. The way it swirled from the flues, settling not as darkness, but as… shapes. Patterns. Like the butcher’s tally…
The chipped porcelain of the mug warmed Elara’s palms, the lukewarm tea doing little for the knot in her stomach. Rain lashed against the coffee shop window, blurring the neon glow of the city. She tapped the screen of her…
The rain slicked alloy of the undercity clung to Anya’s boots. Voidberries, bruised purple, rolled underfoot as tech hustlers huddled in the decaying nanogrime sprawl, their voices murmurs lost in the static hiss of failing power conduits. She needed a…
The chipped gargoyle warmed beneath Zeush’s feet, the stone radiating the day’s faint heat. Below, the city of Veridium pulsed—a network of shadowed alleys and glittering towers, all choking on ambition. He adjusted his grip, talons scoring the weathered stone.…
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…