Forge of the Forsaker

We are descended from a powerful people. So it is said. The most powerful our world has ever known. Their might unmatched. Their domain unending. Their eyes all-seeing.

I am nothing next to them. I am a blade of grass underfoot. A mayfly blinking in and out of existence.

A mortal.

But today I will discover if there are forces in the world mightier than the gods.

For today is the day I bring them down.

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The Man Who Cried Bird

“It’s a blue cardinal, look.”

Roy looked as Andre swiped through the photos he’d taken of the bird perched on the branches of the tree near the picnic area of his park he’d visited that weekend.

“There’s no such bird, Andre.”

Andre closed his eyes and inhaled through his nose. “That’s because no one has seen him, until now.”

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The Brittle Star

“You would give him back the pearls?” Myra said.

She was standing at the prow, leaning against the outer wall of her cabin, peering at her first mate.

Rook crossed his arms. “If…if need be.”

Myra swept her gaze over the rest of her crew. They were all gathered on the deck to discuss the merman’s offer.

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Silent Serpent Under Sea

“Some of the tunnels in other regions have been closed. Some even filled in. We’re lucky that the ones in our region have not.”

“The magic shoring up these walls is ancient, Gramps. Are you sure it’s safe for us to be down here?”

“You’re the one who wanted me to bring you,” my grandfather said. “Anyway, I thought young eyes would be sharper.” My grandfather banged his fist against a seam of enchantment. It glowed a bright turquoise in response. New magic. The afterglow softened to a whisper of pink that signified the ancient magic that I had just doubted.

My young eyes traveled up to the low arched ceiling of the tunnel, the transparent ceiling past which I saw nothing but darkness, and the occasional shadow flitting by, belonging to the strange and hardy creatures that somehow lived at the bottom of the deepest ocean.

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Nine Gods in Masquerade

The story will be told by the young and by the old, many times this night, of the nine gods in masquerade. And it seems to me, that most of these storytellers have only pieces of a greater puzzle.

The masquerade is an ancient custom, they say. They all say that. And that part is right.

It’s the one night when the gods, in disguise, walk among the mortals, they say.

Ha!

We all know there’s no such things as gods. Only ancestors, some of whom knew more and better than we do, and some of whom knew less and worse.

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They Stand. They Watch. They Wait.

“What would happen if I accidentally looked at one of them?” Adira asked.  “Or if I spoke by reflex, before I could stop myself?” She was the passenger.  With a sudden swerve, the driver pulled aside.  Ignoring the horn of the car that just missed side-swiping them, he gripped the wheel.  His shoulders heaved in […]

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