Stories

  • Passing the Flame

    Passing the Flame

    In the village of Amberwell, tucked beside a winding river, there was an ancient custom. Each season, the Keeper of the Lanterns would light the bronze lanterns that lined the village square. These lanterns burned day and night for a season, their warm glow reminding the villagers to embrace the time they were in. But when the season ended, the lanterns were extinguished, marking a transition to something new.

    For as long as anyone could remember, the Keeper of the Lanterns had been Edric. His hands were calloused from decades of lighting wicks and trimming flames, his face weathered but kind. The villagers trusted him to keep the rhythm of the seasons, but few ever asked him how he felt about his role. For Edric, it had become both a duty and a comfort—a steady, predictable task in a world that often felt uncertain. (more…)

  • The Legend of the Grail Cross

    In the ancient days of GrailHeart, before the realms of men and machines intertwined, a solitary sage named Elarion dwelled in a secluded valley. Elarion was said to be a seeker of the Ignis Arcanus—the Secret Fire that wove the cosmos together. Elarion believed that this eternal fire was not found in distant stars or hidden depths but in the hearts of those who dared to let go of their smaller selves to awaken something greater.

    One fateful night, under the vast canopy of stars, Elarion meditated on the nature of transformation. In a moment of profound clarity, the veil between the worlds seemed to lift, and the Ignis Arcanus revealed itself in a vision. A radiant cross of crimson fire appeared, its four rounded arms glowing softly, like the petals of a cosmic flower. As Elarion gazed upon it, the Ignis Arcanus spoke: (more…)

  • The Spring of Windermere

    The Spring of Windermere

    Beyond the edge of Lindleigh, where the village fields surrendered to tangled woods and rolling meadows, there was a spring. Its waters ran clear and cold beneath the shade of an ancient oak, bubbling softly over moss and stone before vanishing into the shadows of the forest.

    The villagers called it Wildermere Spring, but they seldom gave it much thought. Its waters fed their fields and filled their wells, kept the land green even when other villages turned to dust, yet they paid it no mind. The Wildermere had always been there, and it always would be, they believed—as constant as the hills, as certain as the turning seasons.

    But someone always knew better. (more…)

  • A Christmas Light

    A Christmas Light

    It had always been the same. Every December, as the first snows settled over the hills and the days grew short, Emilia would light the little lantern and set it in the window of the old stone cottage. She did it without fail, as her mother had done, and her grandmother before her.

    “Why do we light it, Grandma?” she had once asked as a child, her voice soft with wonder.

    “To guide the way,” her grandmother had answered. “For those who are lost or alone, for those who are waiting, and for those who don’t yet know they’re searching.” (more…)

  • The Lantern of Bliss

    The Lantern of Bliss

    In a distant valley cradled by snow-draped peaks, there lived a young woman named Eryth, who was known for her skill in mending things. Her hands could coax life back into broken tools and torn garments, and people came from far and wide to ask for her help. (more…)

  • The Three Calamities

    The Three Calamities

    Once upon a time, in the quaint village of Hearthwick, there lived a prophetess named Elira. Known for her piercing eyes and serene demeanor, she had earned the villagers’ respect over the years for her wisdom, even though her predictions were often enigmatic. One crisp autumn morning, she stood in the town square, gazing skyward as if reading invisible signs.

    “Three great events are coming,” she declared, her voice firm but gentle. “The first: fire shall consume the village. The second: a great shadow will descend upon us. And the third: the river will rise and engulf what we have built.” (more…)

  • The Mirror of Gratitude

    The Mirror of Gratitude

    In the shadow of the towering Grayspire Mountains, the small village of Emberlin lay nestled among the pines. Life in Emberlin was simple but harsh, and no one felt its sting more keenly than a young woman named Anya. From her earliest memories, Anya believed herself cursed with misfortune. Her family’s fields yielded less grain than their neighbors’, their goats gave less milk, and the small loom in their home seemed to snap more threads than it wove.

    Anya often sat by the village well, watching others go about their lives. She envied the baker with her golden loaves, the cobbler who whistled while he worked, and the blacksmith with his forge that roared like a dragon. To her, everyone else seemed blessed with talents and good fortune that had eluded her. “Why does the world give so much to others and so little to me?” she often muttered under her breath. (more…)

  • The Greater the Shadow…

    The Greater the Shadow…

    Introducing Our New Wanderer in Residence:
    Rowan Blackwell

    Rowan Blackwell was born into the squalor of an impoverished mining town. His father was a miner, and his mother was the daughter of an English professor. The professor offered to pay for Rowan to go to university, but his father decreed, “A Blackwell is a miner, like my father and my father’s father. And if it weren’t for us miners, them professors would be heating their classrooms with their books!” So, by day young Rowan followed his father into the mines. And by night, his mother taught him the craft of writing, spinning tales by candlelight while his father’s snores echoed through the small cabin. (more…)

  • Two Sisters

    Two Sisters

    In the coastal village of Windmere, nestled high on the cliffs overlooking the restless sea, there lived two sisters: Althea and Corinne. Born into a family of prosperous merchants, they were not only wealthy but also deeply respected for their contributions to the community. Yet, despite their shared status, the sisters could not have been more different. Althea, the elder, was a dreamer with her head perpetually in the clouds, captivated by the ethereal and the divine. Corinne, younger by just two years, was grounded, pragmatic, and unwavering in her dedication to the tangible.

    The sisters were close in childhood, spending their days exploring the rocky coastline and their nights listening to the tales of travelers who brought news of distant lands. But as they grew older, their differences became a source of contention. Each sister had her own vision of the world, and neither was willing to bend. (more…)

  • Outcast of the Flame

    Outcast of the Flame

    In a small, isolated village nestled in the shadow of a great mountain, there lived a man named Karun. Karun was the Light Steward, a role passed down through generations. Each evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, he would walk the cobbled paths, lighting the village lanterns one by one. At dawn, he would retrace his steps, extinguishing them with care. The lanterns were more than mere tools to push back the darkness; they were symbols of safety, community, and continuity. For decades, Karun performed his task with unwavering diligence, ensuring the village never fell into shadow.

    The villagers respected him, though few truly knew him. Karun’s life was solitary, his days shaped by his sacred duty. Karun was further isolated from the villagers by the rhythms of their lives: he worked under the stars, tending the lanterns while the villagers slept, and he slept while they labored under the sun. He spoke little and lived simply in a modest hut on the outskirts of the village. None of this even registered in Karun’s mind, however: beneath his quiet demeanor lay a deep, abiding devotion to his role. “The light must never falter,” he would say, though no one had ever seen him falter either. (more…)