Elyos lay  on his  back, wheezing. Dashes of scarlet peeked through his clothing, and his face was slick with rain. He shivered, drenched, despite being sheltered by shrubs and the canopy of the forest. Trying to prop himself up, his scratched-up hands slipped against the carpet of wet leaves, and he fell back to the soggy ground, a jolt of pain stabbing through his body. He hissed, his breath catching. He could feel his consciousness waning. Was this the death of a Prince? A light whimper escaped his lips, and he quickly bit down, drawing blood. It was the only thing keeping him awake. Even then, it was not enough. Black began to swallow the edges of his vision, and he felt light-headed, heartbeat rushing in his ears.

Through the dim haze of pain, a voice scratched against his consciousness, niggling. At first it was nearly inaudible, surely an illusion of the rain, or perhaps a pursuer coming to end things. Elyos stirred, but could no longer move. The voice grew louder; clearer. Dull panic rose in the fallen prince’s throat. Still, there was little he could do. 

“Is this the death of a Prince?” it hissed, making him jump. “Surely there is more to your tale. A Prince who was beloved by his people, but also feared. The sworn protector of the Kingdom, and soon-to-be heir apparent to the Throne.” The voice barked out a laugh. “Do you desire to live, your esteemed Highness?” 

The voice was not trustworthy. Elyos knew this. How could he possibly trust a faceless voice offering up a faustian bargain? How could it be anything but trouble? Elyos knew this, but he knew another, perhaps more important thing. He did want to live. And he might just make a deal with the devil if it meant he would be able to stay alive.

~~~~~

May or may not continue with this; please let me know if anyone's interested in more. 

Cecilie sat at the docks, intently watching black water touching nearly-black sky. Focusing on something made it easier to let go of the aching. Yes, the scent of sea-salt, and warm mixed assortment of spices drifting down from the market, the sound of gulls scanning the waters and the creaking bustle of the port, the faint chill that emanated from the seaward bound winds that swept over her and tousled her long platinum hair—it all calmed her in a way nothing else could. 

He said he didn’t love her anymore, and she knew he didn’t mean it, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. He just had problems, problems she could never hope to fix with kindness and goodwill alone. She had tried to be understanding and sweet and helpful, all this time, she really had tried… But in the end, things turned out as they always did. Another broken heart, another person gone from her life. She was tired of this. She wanted more, but at the same time was afraid to reach out for it. What if it ended the same way again? She didn’t think her heart could take another fall.

That was when a young sailor nearly tripped over her. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” He scrambled over his words, leaping back in surprise. “I really didn’t see you there. It’s dark, and I didn’t expect anyone to be out this late! I-” He took in her sullen disposition and quieted down. “I’m sorry. Are you alright?”

He was a handsome young man, Cecilie noticed immediately. Long brown hair tied back in a ribbon, lightly tanned skin, and smooth features. He had deep brown eyes and dark brows that made his face quite expressive. No, perhaps he was not a sailor after all. He certainly smelled better than one, anyhow. 

“I’m alright.” She replied stoically, casting her eyes back to the water. She had been quite startled, but it was fine not to mention that.

“May I… Ask what a lady such as yourself is doing in a place like this?” She stiffened, a million thoughts racing through her head. As if reading her mind, he quickly added, “I don’t mean to bother you, and will certainly leave you alone if you so desire. You just seem… Perturbed.” So he was well-spoken as well.

“And who might be asking?” She glanced at him sideways. 

“Ah, Philipe Castageau. A merchant,” he gave a small bow, a grin playing across his lips.

“Cecilie.” He paused for a moment, but nodded without another question and plopped down beside her.

“So what brings you to the docks at this hour?” She pursed her lips. Straight to the point, eh? 

“The end of the world, I suppose.” Philipe let out a soft laugh.

“Is that so?” She could practically hear the twinkle in his eyes and it annoyed her to no end. She shifted her weight and leaned back to get a full view of the stars. They seemed dull and sickly, mirroring her mood.

“A beautiful night, isn’t it?” She gave Philipe a weary look at those words, “For the end of the world, that is.”

“I suppose it might be.” She forced her brow to unfurrow, and pushed the nausea down. She had heard the first line far too many times before, on nights much more lovely than this. She closed her eyes and let her expression melt into nothingness. That was the only way of dealing with this. 

It was quiet for a while. So quiet she would’ve thought he left, had she not heard no signs of him leaving. Finally, he spoke again.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Cecilie started, slightly startled.

“Quite sure.” She wasn’t sure if she was lying or not.

“Then I’ll leave you to it, if you don’t mind.” Philipe said with a smile. She did not. “I wouldn’t want to take up any more of your time.”

He left and Cecilie absent-mindedly played with the ends of her hair. Being alone didn’t seem so fun anymore. She got up, brushing her skirt off and pulling up the hood of her cloak, heading home. Tomorrow was a big day anyway, she had better get to sleep early.

~~~~~

I do have a little bit of the rest of this story planned out, and a little bit of it written. 

Strands of the many willows around the river Vai Song floated in the breeze, curling in the direction of the flowing water. It was dark, and quiet too, but for the sounds of gentle lapping at the banks. Such silence was an oddity in a city of this size. Never was the bustle so dead, even late into the night, or on Sacred Days. But these were unprecedented times. Nonetheless, everyone in Shao Mion acted as one well-oiled machine, as if this day was what they all had been born for. They all almost instinctively knew to put out all the lanterns on the streets and board up their doors and windows; take the cats and dogs and chickens in and keep the children and elderly huddled close. It was dangerous out, made clear by the dim moons, side-by-side and coloured a reddish-copper. Nothing good was in store for the people of Shao Mion, and they knew it.

When Tai Minh returned to Tiang Zai, he was happy to finally return to his hometown of Shao Mion. It did border the lands of Mot Vang and Chi Rou, as well as the Dan Shi Ocean, and was often caught up in the conflicts between the two, but it was still home. He was proud of it, and when given the chance to introduce the first Lan-zhi (foreigners from beyond Tiang Zai), he had offered to introduce them to Tiang Zai through Shao Mion. The party was just outside of Shao Mion, so achingly close, when Tai Minh saw it. He blanched, remaining silent when the Lan-zhi he escorted asked him what was wrong. 

“We cannot go to Shao Mion.” Uproar erupted from the group, but Tai Minh stood firm. “We shall not enter the city.”

~~~~~

A snippet of a story I was thinking about; some details might change in the final draft. 

Actually wondering if this will ever top :'(

Aww I can't resist the appeal of this sweet little thread that wIlL nOt DiE - here's a scene that I wrote when I was in my horrible writer's block phase in 2022 (though I actually like how the writing in itself came out :P)

~The Sleeping Forest~

Birds circling with the sun flashing on their wings. Rivers running to the ends of the world, and the Fires of Tarvoid shining by their sides in the summer nights. Ebony and pearls, glowing in everything. Stars glistening so far away - worlds away - but closer than the stars of Eringal. That was what the Forest was like before the song was sung and it plunged into darkness, and that was what wove itself into Aelfrida's dreams, those long years.

And another one:

~The Dawn Horses~

Rising with the waves, rising when the sun broke clear of the horizon of night, came the Dawn Horses. They came up from the depths of dark ocean as the sun came up from the depths of night, and like the sun they spread life and light. They were beautiful, trotting out of the sea, almost ethereal with their pale, rose-and-blue-tinged, creamy coats and their dark, comprehending eyes. They brought good fortune with them, and health, and the light that rises from the shadows.

All right, I'm back >:)

~Sorceress of the Sunstone~

As the girl sang, strange figues danced into Alnara's imagination and seemed to flicker in the fire - lovely, lofty mountains and a girl and a horse flying over them, blown by the magical breezes of desire; a wolf, shining with the moon; old castles and lovely people far different from the castle and people of Arafith; and this girl among them; all that danced on the twisting tune and flashed from the girl's shimmering eyes, until it all faded away and nothing was left but the dark hall, the bright fire, and the slim, strange girl, sitting silently before them.

This is from a retelling of King Arthur that I only got a few pages into~

Merlin's eyes looked deep into the depths of the fire, and the flaming light seemed to shine about him in a cloak of secrecy and magic. When he spoke, his voice was slow and sounded, somehow, as if it came from far away. "Time passes now, and so it will pass forever, unstoppable. When many months have slipped away like the tide waters that slip between your fingers, Pendragon of the Castle and the lovely, wise Igrayne of the Stars will have a child. A baby son it will be, lovely as the heavens to the eyes of its parents. And there will be rejoicing - what rejoicing, because it will be rejoicing in vain! The child will be fated to other things than the castle of Pendragon. He will disappear into the night, but into the day will he reappear - the glorious morning that he creates, he, the sun that will spread warmth and light to drive away the shadows."

The voice ceased, and Merlin stood up, his black robes lying in dark waves about his feet. He looked at the young couple with the past and the future in his eyes, a past and future that could be read by no one but him. He saw different things - things that he understood in the moving fires, the moving stars, the moving waters. And then he passed silently out of the hall, fading away like a vision or a shadow.

~Desert Dreams~

The fire cast a changeful, leaping glow upon the desert sands and, far away across the horizon, the dark, brooding shapes of palm trees. Zara's thoughts leaped ahead to the city, and her cousin, and the quiet courtyards and the bustling streets and the lovely minareted palaces. The market, filled with slaves and spices and smells. The house, with fountains and low stairs and cool, glossy tiles. The nights, candle- and torch-lit, at the bazaars, greeting old friends. The music rocked her on to other memories. The wedding. The laughter and the hot happiness. The broad, flat rooftops, where they would gather in the cool, uncertain moment between afternoon and evening. All the old friends - ! And the inns, and the music, and the parties, and the bright mornings and peaceful afternoons, and everything infiltrated by the dusky cooing of the doves. And the flowers, spilling over courtyard walls, filling the air with their fragrance. The boating parties, with the inky black sky and the white flames of stars reflected hesitatingly in the rippling river waters. That last one she had gone to, when he had looked at her with laughter and a bit of something else in his eyes. The love, the passion, the laughter. That was Erez on the edge of the desert.