Short Stories

Fairy Tales: The Monster

In a small village that was surrounded by whopping mountains, people were cohabitating and working in farming and mining to survive. Kids used to play in the neighborhood, women used to do housework, and men used to work on their own to raise their families. Everyone was living a fortunate life because the village remained strong to face any external menaces. One day, a group of men headed for an adjacent mountain that had one of the highest summits throughout the region. They went looking for some missing pieces of jewelry that were hidden inside a gigantic dark cave. No one dared to go there alone because there were scary stories about an unknown monster that once it got weaken from his deep sleep, a swirling catastrophe would be created after him to damage every isolated village back then.

The castles were burned by this monster, the armies failed to kill it, and the villages were scared enough to go out at night. Unfortunately, while the group of men entered the cave that was somber as the pitch night, they made a noise that woke up a huge dragon. No one ever knew that the monster would be a dragon, especially the current villages that had not seen such a dragon before. The dragon got angry and he said, “You want to kill me, I’ll go to the village and make them taste fire!” Then the dragon burned the whole group and left for the village in an exasperated way. The dragon thought that the group wanted to kill him, so he killed them and went to take retaliation. The dragon got into the village and started burning every house, every tree, and every person. All the one could see was fire on fire, the damage that was laying on the horizon like an angry storm that just left a region. A man with an armor tried to kill the dragon with his sharp sword, but unfortunately, he got burned violently by the scorching fires of the dragon. Afterwards, the dragon saw that he did take revenge from everybody in the village. Then he mumbled, “I’m the king, I’m the fear, I’m the death, I’m the invincible monster.”

Very Short Story: Eye Contact

The train arrived at a raucous station where many people were in a hurry to catch it up. The hustle and bustle of the place made conversations even more difficult to hear. It was raining cats and dogs to make the visibility poor in the horizon. Only thousands of flashes of light in the sky were helping and guiding people to witness the shadow of the train within buckets of rain. The slovenly atmosphere pushed people to be gloomy. Some of them used umbrellas that were in a deep fight against the gusts of wind and heavy rain. Certain shrieks were stumbled in the air to shift the scene into a terrifying movie night. Lucy, a beautiful and attractive girl, stuck within soaked crowds that were precipitating to get into the train. She got her clothes drowned in cold water, and she started shivering and trying to get some heat within the overcrowded place. The train announced the start of the trip by making a melancholic sound from its hooter, and finally, Lucy got into the train after a long time of resistance among the savageness of people. She found a seat in a warm place wherein she collided her feet and laid her wet head on a small window. She kept staring at the window that barred the outside view due to heavy rain. Some kids could not stop screaming because they were cold and famished. Others were petrified and did not want to die thinking that the storm outside could overthrow the whole train and deviated it from the railways without compassion. Lucy was frightened and began to imagine bad situations. She nodded and said in wispy hisses, “why am I thinking like that? Believe in yourself, Lucy. It is going to be alright. Few hours and we reach Colorado.” Lucy had a longing for meeting her parents after an absence that took her two years. The only matter was her parents who kept calling her up from day to another to make sure she still survives. While she was looking at a toddler screaming within the warm hands of his mother, her eyes grabbed her to a handsome man who was staring at her. The scene was eccentric that the two persons could not stop looking at the eyes of each other. It seemed like they already knew each other, but unfortunately, they did not. The eye contact passed odd messages through to the point the man stuttered because he was impressed by the beauty of Lucy. He moved to sit next to her, and to assure her, he said, “do not be afraid! I just saw you shaking from coldness, and I want to cover you with my sweater.” Lucy felt the caution pervading her frail body. She did not want to reject his help because she thought he would be exasperated. She swallowed it hard and threw some kind words, “thank you! That’s so kind of you. I need this sweater.” The man was happy to hear that and he told her that she is beautiful. Lucy became bashful and her cheeks started to get a red color. He could not stop looking into her ocean eyes, and she could not stop staring at his forest eyes. A few minutes later and she fell asleep like an innocent kid. She laid her head on his shoulder to feel the warmth and security. They drowned in a deep sleep wherein they had lucid dreams. The time passed to lead the blue train into a sunny morning. The sunrays were penetrating over the windows to wake up every soul on the train. The train’s hooter made a deafening sound to inform people that they finally reached their destination. Colorado was lucky to have such a sunny day that would make the meeting of Lucy with her parents even more ecstatic. Lucy woke up perspiring because of a nightmare. She looked into the man’s eyes wistfully telling him goodbye, and she sped up into the front door of the train with the sweater of the man on her back. Lucy found her parents who ran over her and hugged her so tightly. She showed them happiness, and she initiated the conversation. While she realized the sweater is on her back, the train sprang and got far from where she was standing. She ran after the train, but she could not make it. Her parents were calling her to go home, but she stood like an immobile stone.

Recall

The fifteen-year-old woke up screaming from what felt like a nightmare, eyes full of tears, his heart frantically beating, shaking, and covered in a cold sweat, compelled by immense fear and checking his surroundings. Paranoid and suspicious of unknown danger, wondering whether it was just a dream or reality.
“That felt too real,” he said to himself as he was rubbing his eyes to fully awaken himself. “Why did it feel like it actually happened? And what was the meaning of it?”
He sat down for a few minutes, attempting to remember his dream, and the more he tried to recall what happened, the more he was bombarded by the memories of that dream, more than he could handle. Suddenly, his mother’s voice from downstairs interrupted his thought process, telling him to wake his younger brother up and get ready before they miss the school bus.
“Wake up Abe…,” she shouted. “And wake Brennan too before you’re late to school.”
Abaddon wiped the tears from his eyes and carefully stepped out of his bed. His feet barely able to hold him, he stumbled to the bathroom and washed his face to wake himself up. He looked at the mirror and for a very brief moment, he saw what looked like a scar on his left eye. He jumped back on the floor and started breathing heavily. He tried to feel his eye to check if what he saw was real, but it felt completely fine. He slowly looked back at the mirror; there was no scar on either eye.
“Crazy morning,” he said to himself. He looked at the clock and realized that the bus was about to arrive. “Crap! Mom’s gonna kill me.”
He ran to his brother’s room to wake him up. Abaddon usually wakes his brother up with sudden loud sounds for the sake of why not. He always told Brennan that he was a heavy sleeper and that to wake him up, he needed to shout very loudly, which was a complete lie. Abaddon did it for the fun of it, although it was traumatizing to his younger brother.
Today, as Abaddon was about to go on his usual malicious ways of waking up his brother, he stopped for a second. For some unknown reason, and for the first time, he chose to wake his brother up calmly and soothingly.
“Wake up little brother,” he said in a calm voice, “we’re gonna be late for school.” Abaddon was feeling differently about his younger brother that morning.

**
As he was walking down the school hall, Abaddon met his closest friend Das as he
used to every day.
“You got the stuff?”, Das asked in a low voice. “Yeah, I got the stuff.”
“All right, good, because we got some hungry clients on the wait.”
The moment Abaddon heard this sentence he suddenly stopped walking, frozen in place, goosebumps going down his body. His hands were shaking again.
“I’ve been through this very moment.” “What do you mean?”
“I have already lived this moment before.”
“You’ve lived this moment before? Like what? déjà vu?”
“No no… it’s not that, I know what will happen next. Hold up, you see the principal’s office?”
“Yeah…?”
“A girl with her parents will come out of there in 3..2..1” “What? How did you know that? What a wild coincidence!” “It wasn’t just a coincidence. I knew it was gonna happen.”
“I don’t know man, it felt like a coincidence to me. Anyways, I need the stuff, a lot of people are waiting for it.”
“Fine, just remember…”
“Always make it quick and only make transactions when no one is around I know I
know.”
As Abaddon was reaching for the packets in his bag, he remembered seeing things
not ending as smoothly as usual. He put the packets back in his bag and said: “Let’s leave it for another day.”
“Are you serious? I promised some of our clients that they’ll be getting their stuff today, what am I supposed to say to them?”
“Just make something up, anything.” “Is this because of that ‘Déjà Vu’ crap?”
“It’s not déjà vu. Bad things will happen if I give you the packets today.”

“Listen, nothing bad is gonna happen. I always make sure everything goes as smoothly as possible. When have I ever made a mistake?”
“Uhh, I don’t know…”
“You have to trust me on this. If we don’t deliver today, we could lose our clients forever. Plus, I’ll be extremely careful. No one will notice.”
“Fine, here are the packets. I’ll see you after class. Do not mess this up!” “I won’t!”
Physically in class but his mind was in a place far away, with sweaty palms, frantically tapping his feet, and his eyes darting around the room. Something was not right with Abaddon. He was hearing a distant voice calling his name.
“Abaddon…Abaddon…ABADDON!”
Suddenly he was brought back to reality to find the principal’s secretary telling him he wants to see him right away.
“Principal Brown wants to see you,” she said in a serious tone.
Immediately his heart began pounding. His legs turned into jelly, barely capable of standing up. Slowly walking, trying as much as possible to delay whatever unknown danger is waiting for him. The secretary grabs him by the shoulder and pushes him forward to make him walk faster. He enters the principal’s office to find his friend Das sobbing in tears. The moment Abaddon saw his friend in there, he knew that things did not go as smoothly as he was assured.
“Hello, Abaddon, please have a seat. Do you know why I called you both here? Surely you can make an accurate guess.”
“I couldn’t think of the reason why I was brought here,” Abaddon replied in a shivering voice.
“All right, I thought you might say that. So let me refresh your memory.”
Mr. Brown grabbed Das’s bag and took out the packets that Abaddon gave him and said, “Do these look familiar to you?”
“I have never seen those before in my life before. I have no idea what those are
and…”
Mr. Brown suddenly slammed his hand on his desk and burst in complete outrage.
“Cut the bullshit! I know that the two of you have been selling these filthy drugs to students around this school. I will not allow two punks like you to ruin the reputation of this school.

Do you have any idea the kind of felony this is? And what it can do to your life? I can make one phone call to the police and you two are done.
He looked at Abaddon and said, “But you can consider yourselves lucky. The luckiest in the world. If it wasn’t for the respect that I have for your mother Hope, Abaddon, and how much she sacrificed for you to have a decent life, you’d be arrested by now. But she’s already got enough on her plate. How could you do this to her? This is how you reward her for all the that she has been through for you? You disappoint her, and you do not deserve a loving and caring person like her.”
Suddenly, Abaddon’s posture changed. He no longer was that little frightened kid.
He said, “Don’t you dare bring my mother into this, who do you think you are?” “Watch your tone with me boy. Do not try me, or I will make that phone call.” “We all know you’re never gonna make that phone call, and I am sure that my
mother has nothing to do with that. The only reason why cops are never getting involved is that the very moment the word gets out that students deal drugs, the reputation of this school will go downhill. I can see it making headlines across this town, and you are not ready for that.
Abaddon laid back and crossed his hands and legs with an arrogant smirk on his face.
There was a moment of silence.
“Get out of my school, the two of you, you are suspended,” Mr. Brown said “Fine! my time was wasted here anyways. Come on Das, let’s get outta here.”
Das seemed disturbed by what just happened, but he knew that this was the best outcome regarding the circumstances. When they got out of the school, Abaddon slammed Das by a wall and asked what happened.
“How did you manage to mess this up? It was a straightforward job. I should’ve never given you those packets.”
“I…I am so..”
“You…you…you’re what? Incapable is the only thing that you are. A useless punk!” “I’m so sorry, I did everything by the book.”
“Then what the hell went wrong?”
“I was at the usual spot, behind the stadium where there is a blind spot for security cameras, and as I…”

bag…”

“You got caught by a security guard as you were reaching for the packets from your

“Yeah…how did you know that?”
“I…don’t know…God…this weird dream that I had…it’s like I’ve seen things before

they happened. I don’t know what to make of it. Never mind. I gotta go now. They probably called my mom, she’s gonna kill me.”
“Lucky me I live with my grandma, and she doesn’t even know what school I go to.” “God your life is so miserable. Who loves you then?”
“I’m sure she does.”
“I doubt it, alright gotta go.”
**
The very moment Abaddon set foot in the house; he heard his mother’s voice
shouting his name louder than ever. The school indeed called her and told her about what happened. She was furious.
“Is it true? That you were selling drugs in school? Tell me right now! Is it true? And don’t you dare lie to me, Abe.”
“Yes, mom.”
“Are you out of your mind? Why? Why would you do such a filthy thing? For what good reason would you go into ruining your life like that?”
“Honestly, I wanted to make money.” “Are we that desperate for money?”
Abaddon chuckled and said, “Is that a serious question?”
“Look, I know that we’re not living a perfect luxurious life, but we are not desperate enough to go through such unlawful roads, you could end up in jail. And that would destroy our family.”
“But I am doing this for our family. Why live like this when we could have the chance to do better, to live better? you need to understand that I can change our life for the better. You’ll no longer have to work a double shift just to barely make a minimum wage. You’ll no longer have to worry about money.”
“What I worry about is none of your concern. You might think that what you’re doing is going to end up helping us but it’s not true. It will only bring more chaos than we need.
Nothing good ever comes out of such an evil act.”

“Sometimes a man has to cross a line to provide for his family.”
“A man? God, you’re fifteen! What happened to you? I don’t know who you are anymore. I don’t even know whom I’m talking to.”
These last words were repeated in Abaddon’s head, it sounded like someone was saying them repeatedly and louder each time. Trying to run away from the sounds, Abaddon ran to his room without saying a word and went straight to bed.
“Would you rather be loved or feared?” “…It’s entirely on you…”
“I welcome back my nightmares.”
Abaddon woke up the next day screaming from an even worse nightmare than the one before. His heart was pounding, and his body sweating heavily as if he just got out of an oven. He hurried and opened his room’s window to get some air and cool down his body.
This nightmare felt even much more realistic and scarier than the one before. He had to make sense of it. He sat down and tried to think it through.
He thought about how he was able to predict some events that happened yesterday at school. The only reasonable explanation that he could make out of it is the dreams that he’s been having for the past two nights. He realized that they were not just random events but rather future ones.
Days passed and Abaddon kept having dreams, some of which would end up happening on the next day or in the near future, while others did not happen.
**
After seven years of seeing future events before they happen, Abaddon has become an unstoppable force. At the young age of 22, he became the dominant drug dealer in his city. His territory was marked and well-known, no one could deal drugs in that area, except for him. The youngest drug lord to ever exist.
Between the ages of 15 and 22, Abaddon became very familiar with the strengths and constraints of his power. The only strength was being able to see the future, which kept him a step ahead of his rivals and made it possible for him to make the right decisions and ensure success. A constraint was that Abaddon had no control over his power, he was a hostage of his own dreams. He would often only get nightmares, which felt too real. In addition, for him to see what will happen in a particular situation, he had to initiate the

event leading to that situation before going to sleep, otherwise, he could not dream about it.
Abaddon has reached the peak of his dominance. Money, power, and control over everything that happens in his territory. However, none of it was enough to satisfy him.
Taking over only one territory could not satisfy his giant ego, so he decided to expand his market. The problem was that other territories were under the control of other drug lords, and nobody likes to have competitors in this business. So, simply entering their market and starting to sell there was not an option. He had to get rid of the competition to become the only source of distribution.
He couldn’t yet see in his dreams what potential outcomes this could lead to because he hadn’t initiated the actual planning for it. The following day, he began with his plan with Das who remained loyal to him all these years and is the only person working for Abaddon who knows about his ability. They both began working on their plan to take over the new territory.
“So, we know that every drug cartel has its drug lord who is responsible for all the major drug operations, which include production, sales, and transportation,” said Das. “However, there is a very crucial part about the drug cartel that makes it run smoothly and helps maintain its power and dominance…”
“The minor players.”
“Exactly Abaddon! Those who maintain key connections between drug outposts. The entire thing is like a giant network.”
Das added, “Another kind of these members are what they call ‘betweeners’. These people are the only link between the legal and illegal parties in the area. For a drug cartel to survive, it relies on its close connections with the law.”
“Why don’t we have these types of people?” Abaddon asked.
“We never seemed to need them. Your ability to foresee future events is what compensates for their absence.”
“Yeah, I guess that makes sense. That’s kind of a good thing since it saves us money. Plus, we don’t have to worry about their loyalty to us. So, going for the head of the cartel is not the right way to approach this.”
“For now, it is best to avoid it.”
“Alright, how can we tackle these minor players?”

“They shouldn’t be too difficult to find. I’ve already sent men to locate their positions without raising any suspicion. They should get back to us in a couple of days.”
“Good, that’s enough time for me to use the dreams and try to foresee what could happen.”
A couple of days later, Das went to Abaddon and asked him about what he saw in his dreams. Abaddon gave him a fierce look and said:
“…You know I cannot tell you that, if you know it will alter the future. What is it that you want to know? Is there anything you want to tell me? Because I suggest you do so now.”
“What did you see? I have nothing to hide from you.”
“Time will tell. So, you came to let me know that the men are back.”
“Yes, they are. Ten outposts scattered throughout the area, five people per outpost, and two out of each five have machine guns.
“All right, good job. I’ve got to go now. I have somewhere to be.”
Abaddon thought about his mother, he could not remember the last time he saw her, in real life at least. Although he did not visit much, she was always on his mind. To him, she was the only person who truly loved him. He went back to his old home where she remained, not knowing whether she would want to see him after all this time.
He got out of his car, slowly walked to the front door, and lightly knocked twice hoping no one would answer.
“One second!” he heard from the house. The door opened, and Abaddon saw his mother in real life for the first time in years.
“Hey mom…” he said in a low shy voice. “Abe! Hi! What took you so long?”
Abaddon remained quiet; what could he say to justify his absence? “Would you like to come in?”
“Yeah…yeah, I would…”
His mother made some tea and peanut butter cookies.
“You used to love these cookies, they were your favorite,” she said with a smiling
face.
“Ha, yeah, it’s been too long since I had these cookies, I missed them a lot.”

“I hope they weren’t the only reason why you finally decided to pay a visit. How long has it been?”
“I…don’t…”
“You don’t know. It’s been five years, seven months, and thirteen days, but who’s counting? But it could’ve been worse, I guess. I am very glad to see you back safe to me. You know I’ll always love you, and I’ll always be there for you.”
A moment of silence has passed.
“You look tired my boy, is everything okay?”
The moment he heard those words, tears streamed down his face. His eyes were red and puffy, and his breathing was heavy and labored. He looked defeated and exhausted like he’s been through a lot and can’t take much more.
“I can’t sleep at night; I am haunted by my own dreams. I haven’t slept for the past two nights, afraid of living nightmares. I am cursed!”
“Cursed? What do you mean?”
“I…I…uhh, just forget it. I shouldn’t have come here.” “Why? Talk to me son!”
Abaddon sat back down, sobbing and laughing at the same time as if he completely lost his mind. His mother rushed to him and gave him a hug trying to calm him down. After a while, he became calm and went back to his senses.
“It’s okay my boy, everything is okay,” she said as she was caressing his back. “I’m sorry mom, I didn’t mean for things to go this way.”
“It’s okay abe, that is completely normal. This is what I’m here for. Everything is going to be fine.”
“Thanks, mom, I haven’t felt this much relief in so long.”
Abaddon stayed at Hope’s for a couple of hours. They talked and laughed and suddenly all his worries were gone, he felt hopeful again.
He got into his car with a smile on his face and went back to his headquarters to let Das know that he wants to abort the plan. He made up his mind and wanted to retire from drug dealing. This was the only way he could stop having nightmares.
When he made it to the headquarters, he was stunned to see dozens of his men lying dead on the ground with bullet holes in their bodies. No sign of Das.

Abaddon took out his pistol and walked slowly and carefully to the warehouse ready to shoot anything that moved in front of him. He unlocked the front door with his key and smashed it open with his foot to be confronted by twenty men, all pointing their machine guns at him. There was no way out for him except for dropping his gun and raising his hands.
A guy sitting in a chair who seemed to be the leader of the group stood up and said, “put your hands down man, we’re not the cops. But we are worse.”
“Who are you? And what do you want?”
“I’m surprised you don’t know me; my name is Zigor. You’ve sent some of your men to spy on me and my operations.”
Das walked into the room, and when Abaddon saw him, he understood exactly what was happening.
“You damn traitor!” Abaddon shouted to Das. “I trusted you!”
“You trusted me? More like you used me! You’ve made me your slave from the very moment I’ve known you. Now, it is time for you to pay for the lifetime that you stole from me!”
“I swear I will kill you!” Abaddon shouted.
“Relax boys!” Zigor interfered. “Let’s keep things under control, okay? I think we’ve killed enough people today.” He said sarcastically.
Zigor smiled and added, “Let’s play a game, shall we? I like to call this game, ‘Would you rather?’”
Zigor looked at Abaddon and said, “if you had to choose, would you rather be loved or feared for the rest of your life?”
“What?”
“It’s a simple question, just answer it.” “…Feared.”
“Wow! I did not expect that at all! I thought she fixed you. I guess not. Alright, bring her in.”
Abaddon was shocked to see his mother dragged in by Zigor’s men. Her hands and legs were tied. Blood was all over her face and her mouth was sealed. Her face looked beat up and her eyes were full of blood and tears. She was dropped to her knees and grabbed by her hair to hold her still.

“No, no, no please don’t do this…” Abaddon begged. “I’ll do anything, just please let her go!”
“You chose this!” Zigor shouted. “But don’t worry, your wish will be granted, you will
be feared, but you will never be loved again.”
Zigor took out his pistol and shot Hope in the head. Her body immediately dropped to the ground. Blood squirted out of her head and created a blood puddle around her corpse.
Abaddon collapsed on the ground, he covered his face with his hands and began to sob uncontrollably. Zigor grabbed Abaddon’s hands and removed them from his face, he then grabbed him by his face and forced him to look him in the eyes.
“Look at me! You did this. Your mother’s death is entirely on you. Now, I don’t wanna sound too greedy, but I’m gonna need to take something else from you. I want one of your eyes, just as a constant reminder to never come close to my territory again.”
Zigor then grabbed a knife and proceeded to poke it into Abaddon’s right eye.
Abaddon was screaming from the immeasurable pain while being immobilized by Zigor’s men.
“Alright, we are done here. Let’s get out of here.”
Abaddon was left alone with his dead mother. He truly lost everything. He used whatever strength he had left and reached out to his mother and grabbed her hand.
Although he had nothing left to live for, something in him wanted revenge. “I welcome back my nightmares.”

The Eternal Labyrinth

Messaouda was an adventurous young girl from the village of Aher Momo. Despite her family’s conservative values and strict rules, she often snuck out of her small bedroom window to explore the surrounding forest. Her curiosity led her on a journey filled with strange and mysterious discoveries.

One day, she stumbled upon a pungent smell that filled the air. Following the scent, she found an unusual object filled with dark liquid and strange symbols. She had seen some of the symbols before in her house, but never understood their meaning. Her curiosity was piqued, and she made it her mission to find more of these objects and uncover the truth behind the foul stench.

Messaouda made multiple trips to the forest, discovering more and more sinister things along the way. She found turtle shells filled with cow eyes punctured with needles, huge bowls

filled with dried dead rats swimming in a pool of blood, and dead animals with their mouths sewn shut. The climax of her discoveries was a horrendous scene of decomposed bodies of children hung in the form of crucifixion. The heads were detached from the bodies and joined together by a wire, surrounding a huge circle symbol on the floor. To Messaouda’s horror, she recognized the children as her own siblings, whom her parents had claimed were kidnapped. The symbols she had seen in her house, along with her parent’s strict rules, now all made sense to her. Her parents were responsible for these gruesome acts.

Trembling with fear and disgust, Messaouda stumbled back to her house, her mind racing. She knew she had to tell someone, to bring her parents to justice. But as she approached her house, she felt a sense of dread wash over her. She feared that her parents would turn on her if they found out what she had discovered. In the end, she chose to keep the knowledge to herself, haunted by the horrors she had uncovered and the evil that was hiding in plain sight.

One night, Messaouda was awakened by whispers outside her window. As she approached, she found her parents standing there, holding strange objects, and chanting in a language she didn’t understand. Suddenly, she was surrounded by dark figures with hooded faces, who began to chant and sway. The chanting grew louder and more frenzied.

The forest transformed into a twisted, demonic labyrinth, with the spirits of the innocent souls sacrificed by Messaouda’s parents. The trees turned black with razor-sharp leaves, and the ground was a river of molten lava. The wind howled with the screams of the tormented.

In her final moments, Messaouda realized the truth – her parents were sacrificing her to the jins. As her father prepared to decapitate her, she was already consumed by the most malevolent jins who feasted upon her essence, leaving behind a shell of emptiness. Her soul was turned inside out, like a mangled, bloody puppet. Her screams echoed through the otherworldly dimensions, a never-ending symphony of torment. The sky turned a dark, murky red, reflecting her blood that stained the ground. The forest became her tomb, with each tree and plant bearing witness to her suffering.

Storm of Betrayal

In the past, a woman by the name of Alice lived alone in a little cabin in the woods. Although Alice cherished her isolation and led a serene life, there was anxiety that particular day. Her modest cabin squeaked and groaned as a result of the wind screaming through the trees and the gloomy and miserable weather. Her nose was overwhelmed with the smell of damp ground and rotting leaves, making her apprehensive.

A man approached Alice as she was meditating on her porch. Inquiring if he may use her phone inside, he appeared honest and in need. Though she was hesitant, Alice ultimately consented to admit him since she felt awful for him.

The moment the stranger entered her cottage, Alice had a sinking feeling. Like a hawk scouting its prey, she watched every motion he made with her gaze. She saw that he walked with a slight limp and that his eyes wandered about the space as if searching for something. He proceeded methodically and carefully, much like a predator stalking its prey.

The impression that the man was off-balance remained with Alice. She watched him carefully as he made the call, but to her surprise, she saw that he didn’t seem to be making any calls at all. Instead, he was circumnavigating the home while looking into every crevice.

Alice gazed in terror as the cottage seemed to come to life. It appeared as though the shadows in the room’s corners were reaching out to grasp her as they became longer and darker. The old wooden flooring’ sighs and creaks seemed like screams for her to flee.

Alice’s heart started to race as she realized she had made a terrible mistake. She had let a stranger inside and was now at his mercy. Alice noticed a knife shining in the man’s palm as he turned to face her. He approached her slowly, his eyes filled with rage, paralyzing her in terror. But just as he was about to strike, a loud crash of thunder and a dazzling flash of lightning suddenly erupted outside. The cottage was left in complete darkness when the electricity cut out. Alice’s instincts for survival took over in that chaotic situation.

She quickly moved to the closest window, fumbling in the shadows for the latch. Her shaking hands eventually located it, and she pushed the window open while feeling the cool rain and wind surge in. She managed to gather all of her power and jumped out into the raging night after giving the man one more glance.

Alice continued to run despite the rain soaking her clothes and making her tremble. She fell over dead branches and got scratched by thorny plants as she hurried through the deep forest. The only thing to guide her through the pitch-blackness were sporadic lightning flashes, which made her heart race.

After what seemed like an age, Alice came across a tiny cabin hidden away in the forest. She was given protection in the cabin by a lovely elderly woman named Margaret, who also phoned the police. They assisted Alice in reporting the man and his attempted attack.

Alice determined never to trust a stranger again, no matter how earnest or desperate they seemed, after that day. She went above and above to protect herself and her home. Her interaction with the man that stormy night tormented her, serving as a continual reminder of the value of personal protection.

Every time a storm threatened, she would glance out at the ominous clouds and ferocious winds, appreciative of the reminder that sometimes even the weather may act as a warning. She had discovered the hard way that it was preferable to err on the side of caution in a world full of uncertainty and never again to invite strangers into her private space.

The Veiled Menace

“Something horrible has happened,” gasped the Imam as he burst into the mosque, interrupting the peaceful prayers of the congregation. his face etched with fear and disbelief. The air was heaving with anxiety and stress since they had never seen him like this before.

The Imam struggled to gather himself as he recovered his breath and steadied his trembling hands. Although he was aware that what he was about to say would horrify and shock his people, he was powerless to refrain.

He had to warn them of the approaching peril that hung over them.

He spoke in a trembling voice, “My dear brothers and sisters,I have just received some terrifying news. The Dajjal has been spotted in our city.”

Our Darkest Sides

He’d never met strangers on the property.
It wasn’t like he’d entered the room on purpose—the last time he’d done that, he’d gotten ten lashes for intruding on the masters’ ‘private talk’ and ‘being disrespectful’ despite having gone on his knees to apologize like his mother used to do.
Not that it had saved her from getting beaten to death, not so long ago.
But he could swear on his mother’s unburied remains that he hadn’t meant to go in this time. He had just come back from a particularly difficult picking session—frostbane was useful, but a pain to find in the winter—and had wanted to inform the house master that his only findings were feeble roots. He would get a lashing for that, too; he just hoped it would happen while the cold was still numbing his hands.
Now, however, caught between the backdoor and the eyes of six people staring at him from the dinner table, his limbs froze even further. The master and his family were sitting with a stranger, and the child had been so busy pulling his bucket of pickings and hardening himself for punishment that he hadn’t made out the new, different voice in their conversation, and now the stranger was seeing him and oh Saints he would not be feeling his skin tonight—
“And the young man?” the stranger asked.
His voice was…soft. Deep, with an undertone of undisputed authority, but undeniably soft. Not something the child usually heard in this house.
“My son,” the master hastily replied, punctuating it with a laugh too loud to be genuine.
“Whatever was he doing outside in the cold?”
“Probably trying to find some flowers he’s read about,” the master’s wife replied with a smile. “Saints know he loves to get his hands dirty.”
The child’s spine stiffened. Their son? His mother was dead serving these people. Flowers? Those were the poison plants they’d made him find with his magic! He didn’t even know how to read!
Why were they lying? If this man was only another one of their visitors, wouldn’t they be proud to show him off as their possession? The powerful little mage turned slave?
The stranger’s eyes were still on him, waiting for him to move, to speak. He couldn’t, though. Not when he knew what this intrusion would cost him, not when the masters were eyeing him like they wanted him struck by lightning behind their civil smiles.
“Come in, child, you’ll freeze. Come sit with us and tell me about those flowers.” The stranger was smiling at him.
“He’ll freshen up first if you don’t mind, Your Serenity,” the master said, voice dripping with exaggerated politeness. “Evalie, why don’t you get your brother downstairs to wash up?”
He felt his back tense again. Insults about his filthiness had never stung him like this before. But it was too late to react; the master’s youngest daughter had stood up, her eyes flashing in brief fury. He knew this sixteen-year-old’s fists better than he knew how many leaves were on a frostbane branch.
But the stranger had also stood up, making everyone freeze. He didn’t look at them; he only had eyes for the child as he extended a welcoming hand toward him.
“Come sit with us,” he repeated, as though the master had never spoken. “What is your name?”
“De’rion,” the master replied instead. “Come say hello before you go change, De’rion!”
De’rion—nothing, in his forgotten mother tongue. A mocking of his heritage. His name in this house, before and after his mother bled to death two storeys below.
“Rowan,” he spoke for the first time since he’d entered. “My name is Rowan.”
The family gaped at him like fish thrown out of the water. The magic stone on his earlobe—that they had carved into his skin since he was old enough to walk—tingled with heat at his act of defiance. He bit back a wince. He could already feel twenty other lashes coming for him later, but he would take that before he let them deform the last thing he had left of his mother.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” the master’s wife said, eyes wild with something he’d never seen on her before. “Naming yourself after plants again? Silly boy. Excuse him, Your Serenity, the child has quite the imagination!”
They all mimicked her laughter, eyeing him as if to dare him to speak up again. It would have worked, on any other day; he would have ducked his head and disappeared downstairs until one of them came to beat him back into his place.
But not today, because he finally saw it. In the way they were nudging each other, the way their voices were sickly sweet, the way they were looking at the stranger as though one wrong move would make him breathe fire at them.
He’d seen that wild, frantic look on his mother so many times.
These people were afraid.
It didn’t help that the stranger was still looking at him, his eyes full with a gentleness he had never gotten before—not from the people who knew what he was, at least. The stranger pushed his chair away, and the laughter stopped immediately.
“Sir?”
He walked over to Rowan, his steps deliberately slow. The child kept his eyes on the floorboard, bracing himself in case something, anything, struck him by surprise.
Instead, the man kneeled in front of him and slowly took his hands. They hadn’t warmed from the frost yet, and were still dirty from mud and blood crusts in places where thorns and sharp leaves had pricked him.
“Will you look at me, Rowan?”
He did. The man’s gaze was…knowing.
“How old are you?”
“De’rion,” the master warned.
“Eleven,” Rowan replied.
The stranger began rubbing soft circles on the skin of his hands. His fingers were warming up, like the blood was flowing back into them.
“And what were you doing outside?”
Rowan swallowed, resisting the urge to look back at his owners. The stone on his ear was burning stronger now. “I pick plants for the masters,” he said. “He sells them as poisons and remedies on the forbidden market.”
Someone gasped, and a fist slammed down on the dinner table.
“Half-witted child!” the master yelled. “What are you on about? Evalie, take him downstairs or—”
The stranger’s eyes never left Rowan, but his gaze hardened. “Where is your mother?”
Always clean your hands after picking, Rowan.
It wasn’t him—it was me! I forgot to cut out the poison berries!
Mother will always love you, my sunflower.
Rowan’s breath hitched as tears pricked his eyes.
“They killed her,” he whispered.
He choked on a sob, his hand flying to his ear to ease the piercing pain of the magic stone. The stranger’s hand followed his, and for a moment Rowan’s ear went numb; when he opened his eyes, he felt no pain, the stone was sitting in the stranger’s palm.
It was then that Rowan noticed the emblem of the twin suns embroidered on the man’s collar. Your Serenity.
A cleric of the Saints.
“Pack your things,” the stranger said simply.
Rowan obeyed, still sniffling, and headed downstairs. He only had one sack—a few layers of fabric that his mother had stitched together for him, in case they ever gathered enough goods to run from this cursed house. He grabbed it and threw in it his only change of clothes along with his mother’s old notes.
That’s when the screaming started.
It quickly died out, followed by the rough sound of heaving objects hitting the ground. For a moment, Rowan remained frozen, remembering his mother’s tales about the blessed the clerics of the Saints. People empowered by the holy pillars themselves; people who could make light out of darkness and hear truth from lies.
People who turned sinners into dust, and the stranger was one of them.
He climbed back up the stairs slowly. Would he die too, for having served these people with his magic? Would he pay for the poisons they had sold and the lives they had taken? Would the Saints at least let him join his mother?
The stranger was quietly waiting for him by the backdoor, his stance straight, his clothes immaculate.
There was blood on the ceiling and the walls behind him.
When Rowan reached the top of the stairs, the strangers was standing as if to shield him from the view. He wrapped Rowan in his large black cloak and hoisted him up into his arms.
“It’s alright,” he said with a gentle smile. “You have nothing to fear anymore.”
Rowan stared at him. “Why were you in the master’s house?”
“I was looking for you. One of our priests bought an extract of marigold heavily tainted with magic a few days ago, and we tracked down the seller to make sure he wasn’t hiding a mage somewhere.” Then, in a lower tone, “I’d heard about mage slaves in this region. The audacity, knowing the High Temple protects them.”
“You are a cleric,” Rowan said with a hint of awe.
The stranger’s eyes twinkled with delighted surprise. “I am,” he replied. “My name is Adriel, and I serve Saint Valhenya. Do you know about the Saints, Rowan?”
“My mother used to tell me stories, before—” Rowan bit his lip. “The masters hated when I tried asking them about it.”
“They are not your masters. They never should have been.” The man shook his head. “Will you come with me to the Temple? There are many people like you who would love to meet you.”
Rowan hesitated. He had already been left once; he barely knew the cleric, but he was the first person in a long time to look at Rowan with sympathy rather than contempt.
“Will you not stay with me?” he asked in a small voice.
The stranger—Adriel—smiled. “Only if you want me to.”

Sparcatcus

-“URRGHH,” she moaned, holding back her screams.

Her mouth was gagged, and she was scratching and grabbing the sheets, bleeding all over the place, and praying to God that her baby would come out safe and healthy. She took a deep breath and kept pushing the baby with all the strength left in her body. The kid fell out before she could even complete her breath. While exhaling, she gently stated, “He is born.” She placed him in her arms before cutting the umbilical cord. He was soft, small, and sweet-smelling. He started gently yelling, which strangely startled the mother. She quickly jumped up to pull the curtains and grabbed the baby to hide in a dark corner. Nobody should know she has a baby; nobody should know he’s alive, she reasoned as she breastfed him.

– “I will name you Miraculum,” she said as she was dozing off.

She wakes up to violent knocks on her door. From the voices that reached her ear, it seemed like a bunch of people were in front of her door, waiting for her to open it so they could barge in. She hides her baby under a blanket and nervously opens the door.

-“Who is it?” she asks when she opens the door.

-“We were directed by village officials to retrieve this house for an unholy creature that might bring shame to this village!”

Grown men cheered in the back, which made the mother even more nervous. Yet she decided not to resist.

-“Come in.”

With their noses in the air and their blood-shot eyes, they were ready to hunt. After looking all over the house, they stepped onto the porch to leave, and the mother reached for the doorknob to end her torture, when suddenly, a baby’s screams filled the air. The man who seemed to be the leader of the bunch swiftly turned his head and barged inside the house again. He finally found the baby and violently grabbed him by the arms.

-“Now, what is this, madam?” “How dare a single woman like you illegitimately give birth and bring us shame?” He spits on her face as he chokes her. “However, I will not kill you before I kill this before your eyes.”

She screamed and fought, not for her life but for her baby’s, in vain. As they were publicly executing her own blood and flesh, she managed to flee without anyone seeing her.

*2 YEARS LATER*

The crowd went crazy as their favorite Gladiator entered the Coliseum. Spartacus was known to be the deadliest gladiator that history has ever seen. No animal, ogre, human, or supernatural creature could stand in his way. He lived on blood, and he sought blood. A legend says that he murdered his mother and all the people who lived in his village at the age of 5. He knew no mercy. Under his gear lay a face that was never seen; no one could ever recognize him without all the weapons and metallic gear.

The fight began, and the opponent instantly charged at Spartacus. Spartacus slid to the side, drove the opponent’s elbow down and away, grasped his head, and rolled himself and his enemy onto the ground like an offensive lineman blocking a defensive back. Spartacus was on his feet in a third of a second after making contact, seeing the big man race at him. The antagonist smashed an elbow into the side of Spartacus’ skull, and the villain, whom everyone adored, only realized what had happened after he was writhing on the ground. Thought pain was merely an imaginary sensation that his mind could turn off, if necessary, he assured himself. “Set it away,” he commanded himself.

With a smirk on his face, he stood back on his feet, took a deep breath, and the fact that it hurt his ribcage made him smile more. He enjoyed the pain, and he most definitely enjoyed the killing more.

-“Are you ready to die? Because I will sheath my knife in your flesh,” he asked his enemy, who had a fearful look plastered on his face.

The legend also said that no one has lived to tell the story after hearing this sentence. Fear coursed through the adversary. He suddenly felt naked and alone. Spartacus took out his famous knife that still had drops of blood from past, now-dead enemies. He charged at the man, swinging a powerful stab that caught the man’s flush. The victim spat blood and rolled over like a cat, gasping for air. Spartacus threw a few more stabs before he plunged the knife into the man’s chest, cut it open, and took out his still-beating heart. The crowd crazily cheered. The victory was again his.

Two days later, Spartacus was chosen for another fight.

The gladiators faced each other in the hot, sandy arena. The crowd roared as they approached, each holding their weapon at the ready.

The first gladiator, Spartacus, clad in gleaming armor, looked strong and powerful. But as he moved, there were hints that he might not be the big, muscular man that he appeared to be. A strand of long, golden hair escaped from under his helmet, and he moved with a grace and speed that were unmatched by any of the other gladiators.

His opponent, a hulking brute of a man, charged at him with a fierce battle cry. But the first gladiator was ready for him. He dodged his clumsy swings with ease, darting and weaving around him like a dancer. The brute roared in frustration, swinging his weapon wildly. But Spartacus continued to dodge and parry, his movements swift and sure. He was clearly the better fighter, and the crowd could see it.

Finally, with a quick and precise strike, the mighty gladiator we all know disarmed his opponent and dealt the final blow. The brute fell to the ground with a thud, and the crowd erupted into cheers. As the first gladiator raised his arms in victory, the strand of golden hair that had escaped his helmet shone like a banner in the bright sunlight. And in that moment, it was clear to all that this was no ordinary gladiator, but a fierce and skilled gladiator who might be a woman and who had triumphed over her male opponent.

Spartacus had been fighting for the rebellion for many years now, and he had earned the respect and admiration of his fellow rebels. They knew her as a fierce, weirdly fast, and skilled warrior, but they had no idea that she was actually a woman.

One day, the rebels were planning a major attack on a Roman stronghold, and Spartacus was chosen to lead the charge. She was determined to succeed, and she spent hours preparing for the battle. As they approached the stronghold, Spartacus could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins. She was ready to fight, to kill, and to win. But as they neared the gates, she heard a sound that made her heart skip a beat. It was the sound of a baby crying. Spartacus froze in her tracks, her mind racing. She knew that this was not a coincidence. This was a sign from the gods, a reminder of the child she had lost and the people who had taken him from her.

In that moment, she made a decision. She would not just fight for the rebellion. She would fight for the innocent, for the helpless, for those who could not fight for themselves. She would be a protector, a guardian, and a mother. With a fierce determination, Spartacus raised her sword and charged into battle. She fought with a ferocity that shocked even her fellow rebels, and she quickly decimated the enemy ranks. As she stood victorious on the battlefield, she removed her helmet and armor, revealing her face and feminine features to her stunned comrades. “I am Spartacus,” she declared, “and I am a woman.”

The rebels were stunned and amazed, but they quickly rallied behind their leader. They knew that she was not just a woman but a hero, and they were proud to fight by her side. Together, they continued to wage war against the oppressors, bringing freedom and justice to the people of Rome.

Spartacus was a woman of many talents and abilities. She was a skilled warrior, a natural leader, and a fierce protector. She was also a master of disguise, as she had been able to hide her true identity from her fellow rebels for many years.

But now that she had revealed herself, she was determined to use her unique abilities to help the rebellion in any way she could. She began to train her fellow rebels in the art of disguise, teaching them how to blend in with their enemies and gather valuable information. Spartacus also used her skills as a warrior to lead daring raids on Roman strongholds, striking fear into the hearts of her enemies and inspiring her fellow rebels. She was relentless and unstoppable, and she quickly became a legend among the people of Rome. As the months went by, the rebellion grew stronger and more successful. Spartacus and her fellow rebels were winning victories all over the city, and the Roman Empire was starting to crumble.

But Spartacus knew that the fight was far from over. She continued to lead her rebels into battle, determined to free her people from the oppression of the Romans. And in the end, she died a hero, remembered for her bravery and sacrifice.

Love does not always find its way.

During the late 1800s, Suleyman and Sulya were born on the same day, in the same middle eastern tribe named “Asal”. On one hand, Suleyman is the son of Mohamad, known for providing the tribe with wheat, fruits, and vegetables. On the other hand, Sulya is the daughter of Omar, known for providing the tribe with items and food that cannot be found in the tribe and are highly requested and demanded. Asal was known for being a very conservative tribe. Boys and girls were not allowed to play or study together. One day, Suleyman was playing soccer with his friends next to the river where Sulya was washing her clothes as part of her chores. Accidentally, one of the boys threw the ball so hard that it hit Sulya’s face. As Suleyman was scared, he did not think twice about the traditions of the tribe and went to check on Sulya. He touched her soft feathery face and his heart skipped a beat at that warm touch. It was the first time he touched a girl’s skin. Her right cheek had a red bruise, and she could not open her eyes since she was crying an ocean of tears out of the pain. She was hurt to the extent that she felt like fire was burning her face. After a couple of minutes, the pain started to slowly fade away after that Suleyman poured ice-cold water from the river on her bruise. As soon as she opened her eyes, she threw herself out of Suleyman’s arms and blushed until you could not differentiate her blushing from the redness of the bruise. – “Is… Is everything fine? Is your face fine? I can …” he asked while his voice was trembling. – “I’m fine, thanks.” She interrupted him and said in a serious tone. She went back to take the clothes she washed and was walking back to her parent’s home. Suleyman ran behind her and asked her “Can I at least help you handle the basket and apologize to your dad?”. Panicked, she answered, “If you have a death wish, you are welcome to come home and talk to my father.”. As she kept walking back home, alone. Suleyman kept watching Sulya until she entered her home to make sure she was safe. He came back to his friends and asked for the guy who threw the ball and choked him from his t-shirt’s collar. Out of rage, Suleyman started to curse him and punch him until his other friends separated them. As soon as Suleyman went back home, his father saw his hands covered in bright red blood and started to scream at him to ask him what he did. With Suleyman’s short temper, he screamed about what happened and got out of the house as his father was cursing him. After cooling off, Suleyman came back home during the Fajr prayer. He did the ablutions, prayed, and went to sleep hoping that he will wake up to a better day. Seven hours passed and his father could not wait to storm his room like a tsunami. Muhammad violently opened the door, as he was screaming and shouting about how disobedient Suleyman became and that he is not going to allow such behavior later under his roof. Suleyman got up furious but could not match his father’s negative energy, so he chose to calm things down to avoid further unwanted actions. During the afternoon, he went to help his father and brothers take care of the crops since it represents a huge part of their household income and an important source of food for the whole tribe. As he lifted his head to wipe his sweaty front, he saw Omar coming towards them and waving at Muhammad. They started talking about some problems and started screaming since they were disagreeing on several things related to their businesses. It can clearly be seen that both Omar and Muhammad are highly competing against each other in the market. Suleyman went towards them and heard that Omar is threatening Muhammad to leave the tribe with a couple of families that support him. As Suleyman was scared that he cannot meet Sulya again, he tried to calm the tensions between the two men and asked them to think about the problems more calmly to find a solution that would satisfy both parties. Furious, Omar went back home mumbling swear words and cursing. As soon as he finished helping his family, Suleyman went to sit next to the river to process everything that happened to him. A few moments later, he saw Sulya, coming from afar while carrying her usual basket of clothes. He tried to hide behind a giant bush to avoid her seeing him. As she finally arrived next to the river, she crouched and started washing her clothes while looking around her as if she was waiting for someone. Suleyman’s curiosity peaked and decided to wait for a couple of minutes to see if someone is coming to meet her. Many scenarios started to cross his mind and his chest was going to explode out of jealousy. A quarter of an hour passed, and no one showed up. Suleyman decided to take his courage with two hands ad go ask if she is feeling better from the accident that occurred. He touched her shoulder gently to make sure he does not scare her and sat next to her while she was still busy. As soon as she saw his face, she smiled and started to blush. Sulya heart was beating so fast that she could not even say a word. He noticed that the bruise on her face is nearly healed and felt relieved. Suleyman started to talk to her about the escalating tension between their fathers about their different businesses, yet both were needed in the tribe. She added that she heard that her father is planning to move from the tribe and create his tribe in the north. Shocked, Suleyman felt an awful chest pain as if someone stabbed him with a sharp knife. He started realizing that he might lose the girl he fell in love with. Sulya was able to read those emotions on his face and hugged him. They seemed like they forgot their tribe’s rules for a minute. They started crying in each other’s arms and promised each other that no matter what happens, they will find a way back to each other. The sun was fully set, and Sulya had to go back home to avoid drawing attention to her. Suleyman kept watching her on her way back home hoping that he gets to see her again. Once he went back home, he helped his mother with the dinner preparation, and they sat all together at the table. Suleyman tried to bring up to the table what happened between his father and Omar. Immediately, Muhammad’s facial expressions changed, and it was clear the conversation was going to take a bad turn. He cleared his throat and said: “I feel like the problems between me, and Omar won’t end well. The only way to solve such issues is through violence.” Suleyman’s facial expression quickly changed and replied: “There’s always another way than always solving things with violence. Try to keep in mind the good old days between y….” Suleyman could not finish his sentence since his father gave him a death stare. The atmosphere started to feel heavy and Suleyman decide to go back to his room, pray, and sleep. Abruptly, Suleyman woke up to the scary sound of shooting rifles sounds. The excessive greed led to treason and treason triggered a war between the two major families of the tribe. The war resulted in a sea of dead innocent people and an irreversible separation. Sulya’s family and their remaining supporters headed north and created their tribe and named it “Salam”, hoping that they will have a better and more peaceful life. Suleyman was hoping that it is a nightmare and that he would wake up from it. However, it was not the case and Sulya was gone. He tried to seek clarification from his youngest brother about what triggered this war. Turns out that Sulya’s family along with their supporters were trying to sneak at night to flee the tribe. Once again, Suleyman felt worse than betrayed and nothing could stop him from feeling this pain. He would rather die than feel this deadly pain. Five years have passed since the incident and Suleyman still did not get over what happened. He feels like he is stuck in an infernal loop and decided to plan to see Sulya again. To do that, he must get through the guards of Safaa, his tribe. Then, walk for one week towards Salam, and get through the guards of Salam. To avoid getting killed by Salam’s guards, he sent a homing pigeon to Sulya to ask her to meet him in an exact place that he marked on the map. After a few days, Sulya received the letter with a list of what should be done for the plan to turn out great. She sent back homing pigeon with a letter in which she agrees to the plan and wishes him good luck on this road full of ambushes. Suleyman received Sulya’s confirmation letter and decided to execute his plan within the same day. He packed some necessities, kissed his mother’s head, hugged his sister, and got out of the house. He convinced his tribe’s guards that he needs to go hunting for some rabbit meat and they opened the door for him. After a few days of struggling to stay alive by only eating wild fruits from bushes, he found it on his way. He used to sleep in caves and was always carrying with him a sharp knife to defend himself from any type of attack and danger. With half a day left for the two lovers to meet, Suleyman decided to clean himself in the cold river and wash his clothes. The sun was hot to the extent that it only took ten minutes for the clothes to be fully dried. As Suleyman was sitting waiting for Sulya to come, he tried to pick some flowers to gift to Sulya. A few minutes later, he was able to spot Sulya from afar coming from the woods. She was trying to hide from the guards in case someone was following her. As soon as she arrived, she jumped in Suleyman’s arms, and they had a passionate kiss that was able to revive back all the memories and feelings they had. However, this moment of joy was cut short by a crackling sound in the forest. Someone followed Sulya to know where and what she was willing to do. Suleyman took Sulya’s hand and started running so fast. You could hear rifle shooting from afar, the guards were on their backs. They kept running until they thought that they lead astray the guards and sat on the top of a high hill. Unluckily, the guards saw them and started shooting again. Sulya said to Suleyman: “If they see you, they will kill you. I’d rather die with you than live without you.”. With tears in their eyes, they hugged each other and jumped off the cliff. The guards were scared and went back to Salam and did not say a thing about what happened. Ten years later, a volcano was formed out of their corpses and erupted to destroy both tribes. That was the result of this forbidden love.

The Blue Lady and The Cursed Sword

Chapter I: The Finding of The Sword

It had come to pass, that a castle was dwelling on a hill in the depths of a forest where no one could venture. Clouds were gathering overhead, and owls were hooting at the edge of each blue window of the keep. It was a massive edifice of dark blue rocks, where towers outnumbered chambers; towers that pierced the sky and defied thunder with monstrous elegance. Stone gargoyles were perched around each, guarding the gates and all entrances to the compound. And with their gray eyes that sowed terror, watched solemnly every intruder; then it is said, that their eldest would fly towards its master to report any irregular happenings. It was indeed the design of the Blue Lady, who guarded a treasure buried in the catacombs of her long-founded and forgotten dungeons.   

The Blue Lady dwelled for nearly four hundred years in the massive keep, governing her claimed valleys across the Eagle’s Peak west of Corros with an iron fist. She might have had Patwin the Imp by her side as her right hand, a company of three newly anointed witches at her service, and hundreds of goblins in her domain, she has always felt like solitude wrenched her stone-cold heart. She ruled fiercely over creatures of the Yellow Woods, men, and beasts until the free peoples of the region fled out of fear and despair towards the free cities down south. None dared to contest her or question her judgment, to say the least, for everyone knew that the Blue Lady’s magic was beyond knowledge and power.  

Chronicles speak of a snowy day around the year 1360 AR, during a long winter that lasted a generation. The frost peaked forty feet deep, a chilling cold that seized lives and winds that blew rocks away; it was a rough season where nobody could get out of their barely warm hearths, and even in the warmth of one’s home, people died out of hunger and shortage of wood. Commoners thought it was a curse sent by the gods and their wrath, for rumors of a dark shadow growing in the Yellow Woods spread. The Blue Lady’s charms kept her dwelling warm and safe; she had been preparing provisions for her servants and cut the entirety of the forest to provide wood. And when she heard about the slow emergence of an ancient enemy, the Blue Lady established charms and spells to ward off every intruder from her castle; peasants and nomads outside her walls were attacked and chased by werewolves, and other old monsters that woke with the growing evil.  

On that day, the goblins of Blue Valley found a curious object in the surrounding woods, not so far from the castle. They hurried in haste, but discreetly, entering the impregnable walls of the Blue Lady’s halls, hissing and whispering along with their bare little feet noises in the throne room, a dozen were holding a black sword frozen inside a massive block of ice. Their master hollered furiously about what required such urgency. Patwin the Imp appeared first wearing his leather tunic, a blue star banner on his chest and his small hideous face had a smothering expression. Then roared the Blue Lady behind him looking all graceful with her dark blue dress and her starry diadem of sapphire. The woman’s milky skin highlighted the blue tattoos all over her face and body, which are known as protective runes carved in a dead foreign language.  

“I will not accept a vain urgency. Show me, goblins, what did you bring upon my hall in such haste?” she spoke softly.  

The goblins struggled first to find a spokesperson; they were pushing each other, whispering and mumbling mischievously on the pathway. One of them, named Kiza, stepped forward, speaking in an indistinct accent:  

“M’lady. We found a funny sword at the stag’s glade while we hunted for some rabbits. It is inside this block of ice.”  

“And why should I be concerned?” frowned the Blue Lady, hiding her curiosity towards the shining object.  

“It seems like its blade is made from obsidian. And there are a few disappearing carved glyphs we cannot understand.” Explained another goblin.  

When the Blue Lady heard the word glyphs, a striking clarity shone upon her face. She seemed excessively staggered, and she could not prevent herself from approaching the company of goblins. She finally removed her leather gloves to reveal her bright white hands and touched the ice block.  

“Curious, very curious… And the carvings. Must be some ancient form of writings from the far south.” She told Patwin the Imp discreetly.  

“Old Damraki carvings from the Grasslands I suppose?” Guessed the mistress.  

“The Damraki nomads never wrote. I am afraid these are Jaarti glyphs from the fallen empire.”  

“But nothing and none survived the Ruin, how could that even be possible?”  

“Here is one. And whoever owned this, must have died after the cataclysm…” Interpreted Patwin, thrilled.  

Silence roamed the throne room, and a cold breeze entered through the colored windows. A few flames were lit that night, and the sad walls seemed to shiver themselves with the burning cold whistling frightening songs out in the dark. The Blue Lady was terrified, as she could not come to understand how such an object of great value and old making found a way into her halls. She was drowning in her own thoughts and decided to summon her disciples and puzzle out such wonder. Three young women entered the throne room from the backdoor just behind the throne. Alys was the eldest; she had this resolved feeling in her ruby-red eyes and piercing gaze. Though Sesil, a disciple from Nivari was of poise temper and was mostly relied on by her mistress when it comes to potion-making. Nepheli was also a steady disciple, and her gifts in foresight concealed the fact that she was blind. They were all at the Blue Lady’s service; all were the fruits of her design. And on that day, the mistress asked Sesil first to examine the object; the young woman was plainly surprised.  

“I am not able to read these writings. Besides, a major part of the carvings had been damaged.” She spoke.  

“Or erased. Even time cannot damage carvings on obsidian… We will need to break the block before examining the blade thoroughly.” Concluded Alys, touching the ice block.  

Kiza the goblin stepped out grabbing an iron hammer.  

“Will you allow me, master?” he asked before striking the ice block with every force he had.  

A sonic burst shrilled immediately, and the hammer broke into pieces instead. Clearly, the ice block was not the doing of nature, but some sort of protective magic.  

“This sword has been sealed into the block. Whoever owned it, wanted to ward off any attempt of destruction.” Presumed the Blue Lady in an assertive tone. “Only Intrusive Pyromancy could break into this kind of sorcery. I have an old friend who could help us fail it.” She added.  

The Blue Lady began a perilous adventure deep in the Khakadom mountains, far from her lands, where ice demons resided in the white mists of winter, and where giant eagles could not fly up high. It was indeed the domain of Marù, an older wizard who dwelled in the dungeons of mount Khalmatar. There, he chose solitude as his own companion and the arts of fire as his own craft.

To be continued