- fantasyEveryone
The Lantern That Walked Home
By dawn the Lantern Festival was over. Wren walked the rows along the river, pinching out flame after flame. Every paper lantern died at her touch but one. It hung at the water's edge, glowing a steady gold no breeze could shake. When she reached for it, the little wick leaned away from her fingers and tugged its string, like it wanted her to follow.
5 writers - fantasy◐ Mature
What the Briar Remembers
Mirren had tended the Briar for nine winters. She knew which graves to leave alone. The whole forest had grown over an old war, with bone under the roots and rust under the moss. That morning the thorns wept sap the color of a bruise. Under a hawthorn she found a grey hand pushing up through the dirt. It twitched, then grabbed at the air, reaching for her.
5 writers - fantasy◐ Mature
The Debt of Hollow Bells
Maren had rung the hollow bells over six hundred graves. Each toll dragged a dead soul up just long enough for one last word. She'd done it so long it bored her. But tonight the bell rang before she touched the rope. One cold iron note rolled across the frozen yard. She opened her casebook to write it down, and the page was already full, in handwriting that was not hers.
5 writers