Stories

The Lonely Moon gazes down on me, The pale, immortal Son of Night. It wakens the Eternal Sleeper, Who calls to me, and I answer. She walked, barefoot, across a carpet of moss. Her song - soft, haunting - danced on a breath of air, spun through the wood. Only the trees...

"Choose the lamp on the left, see visions of the future. Choose the one on the right, taste of true madness for a spell." The crone's words burned in the girl's mind like festering sores. She held her hands over the lamps but felt no heat from them, despite the frigid...