[Arabian Nights meets Atlantis] She wants to save her family. He wants to save his people. After selling all of her belongings to survive, Alara has nothing-except a burn scar left by her unknown father and a sick mother she has to take care of. In order to survive, Alara steals and trades what she can. The only escape she has is when she closes her eyes and imagines a different life for herself. Zayen has been raised to be a guard to the royal family, and has to protect his identity or be killed. Some would say that all of his worth is in his surname. He would say that his worth only comes from the good he can do for those who need it. But that's easier said then done in a world where the pure of heart get left behind. When Alara and Zayen are forced to work together, they uncover a world that tried to stay hidden. Everything becomes possible, and none of it is safe.

Siena can heal wounds with a touch of her hands. A captive since birth, she is used as a tool of war by a Plainsmen tribe. A chance escape into the forest proves successful... and deadly. Rescued by the Forestfolk--a group of people she always thought were nothing more than bedtime stories--Siena remains on edge. Trust does not come easily when persecution is all she's ever known. Keeping her abilities a secret seems like the right thing to do, until a tragic accident renders two Forestfolk spiraling toward death. If she chooses to reveal her abilities, she risks being subjugated again. Treated as no longer human. Maybe even sent back to the Plainsmen. But keeping her talent to herself means ignoring the injured around her, even allowing them to die. The choice seems obvious to Siena, but living with the repercussions of that choice is another matter altogether. A journey of self-discovery, a bit of adventure, and a splash of romance. On the Wattys 2017 Shortlist!

They say her voice was once bewitching to all who heard it. She was like a siren luring sailors to their deaths on quiet nights... Those are just rumours that once were, truth be told the youngest daughter of the Count was a mute. Her voice had long been lost in her childhood years, disappearing like a whisper in the wind soon to be forgotten. She too disappeared with it, fading into the background, outshined by her talented siblings. The harder she tried to regain her worth, the more she was ignored. Until a chance encounter with a stranger changes everything... Word count: [100,000 - 150,000] *This story has a professionally edited version published with its COMPLETED version currently ONLY AVAILABLE on AMAZON and KINDLE *

It must have been a goddess. That he was sure of. In the middle of those dark ashes, a body was laid down, wrapped in a cape that must have been green before but which was now covered in brown because of the ashes. Her face was strikingly pale, of a rare whiteness, but it was also dirtied by the ashes, hiding her cheeks and forehead. But despite those ashes and these dark smudges, one thing was absolutely certain: she was divine. She had a beautiful face with a straight, small nose, lips that were plump even if they were dry and a bit blue from the cold. Her eyes were closed, but her lashes seemed to be long and thick, resting on her cheeks like she was sleeping peacefuly. But all of those traits were not what attracted the Jarl. What did was the streak of hair that rested on her forehead, which had leaked from her hood. Its color was so unique and uncommon for a girl from this country that Tharn remained fixated on it. It was impossible to decide if this girl was a red-head or a blond. It seemed like the gods had not been able to chose in-between those two hair colors and had to give her the tone in between those two: gold. What a waste for such a heavenly creature to be dead, Tharn thought. Well, was he sure she was dead? After kneeling down, he bent over her, placing his fingers on her throat to check if her heart was still beating and placing his cheek in front of her mouth to see if he could feel a breath against his skin. As faint as it was, a light breeze touched him and a slow beat came under his fingers. She was barely alive, but she still was. A sigh of relief escaped him without him controlling it. He had no idea why he was so glad she was alive, but he was sure of one thing : she was coming back with him, and she would be his.

"I'm tired. I'm tired of this, of everything, and what I am most tired of is being forgotten by you. If there is a next time, I will be the one who forgets." As her eyes closed, the memories vanish along with her and the passing time. "I was wrong! I was wrong! I'm sorry! Open your eyes! Cui'er, please wake up!" Her soul fades as the light floats up like bubbles and wanes into the darkness. She is gone. He holds her body, left with only an empty shell, he holds on and cries. "I once told you that I would never leave you yet now I'm the one who is left behind." His tears streams down, gentling as they fall upon her face. Then suddenly he screams to the sky, "Cui'er, I promise you, the next life, I will find you, and even if I am something entirely different, the debt that I owe you shall be repaid." The memories of the mind can be fragile, easily dissolvable into nothing. Yet some things are forever entrenched into the soul, never to be erased. ____________________________________________________________________________________ This is my original story, not a translation. btw, there's a spinoff ٩(˃̶͈̀௰˂̶͈́)و