An entry-level cartographer, Liadan is the least interesting, least important member of the Nautical Guild. Well, that's what she needs everyone to believe. When a warning at sea forces Liadan to flee the Island of Tirisea, she must choose if she returns to safety or trusts a stranger who promises her the impossible: a life where she is free from a duty that was inflicted on her at birth. No matter what, she must not let the mist find her, nor allow the key to fall into malevolent hands. One wrong move, and the world will crumble. Cover by @raizelrose3 ONC 2026 Prompts: 7. One morning, the ocean washes up a message. One you've been waiting your entire life to hear. 62. They say every door has its own key. Except for one, a key said to open them all. 79. A letter arrives addressed to you, written by someone who shouldn't exist. ONC 2026 Round 1 Winner Word Count: 26,177

On an alternate planet called Ikolar, the Kingdom of Slahi rose after the destruction of Earth, where people had migrated to survive. Several years have passed, and now Ikolar itself is on the verge of destruction due to the long span of time its people have lived there. Dark shadowy forces led by a witch named Yuza, are pushing this destruction forward. Along with her, one of the nine sub realms of Slahi is trying to betray the world from within. Zia, an eighteen year old young girl and the third daughter of the chief of the Gorak Tribe, must stand against Yuza and defeat her once and for all to save the last habitable planet in the solar system. She is the only one upon whose birth a rare flower called Hwegi bloomed, giving the people of Ikolar hope that their world could still be saved. However, time is running out. The prophecy says that the moment Zia plucks the Hwegi flower, everyone will die, leaving only her alive. Each day the flower wilts little by little. Zia must save the Kingdom of Slahi and her Ikolar through every hardship before the flower fades completely. Complete destruction is near. Can Zia restore the destiny of all through her sacred birth? For she is the only Hope of the Fall after all.

Weimar Republic, 1932 Democracy is already on its deathbed when young Frenchman Yves Crèvecœur arrives in Magdeburg as an exchange teacher. Soon, however, the gothic halls of the Luisengymnasium reveal two sacred truths: The classroom is a battlefield of politics. And: You can not be neutral when fascism threatens to devour what you love. ▪︎▪︎▪︎ ONC entry for prompts 80 and 57 "Monsters don't live under our beds. They live in the recesses of our minds." "Everyone loves the polite, charming student on campus. Except when you walk into the room. For some reason, you're the only one they treat with icy distance. You're determined to find out why."

It's 1896. Evelyn has been surviving, barely, in Hell's Kitchen when a letter arrives with an offer that feels too generous to refuse: a position at a remote estate deep in the Appalachians. With little to keep her, she accepts. The journey carries her beyond the last logging towns, into a stretch of forest where the road narrows and the world seems to fall away. No one travels that far without reason, and no one speaks of what lies past it. The house stands alone among the pines. Older than the railway. Older than the maps. And though no one warned her, Evelyn begins to understand... she was expected.

A rivalry steeped in salt, an adventure cursed to fail, and a love doomed from the start. A tale of the ocean, a mythical treasure, and a fantastical academy where stars, monsters, and the sea are all on the agenda.

Apá says I only became interesting 'just' after I turned twelve. As if I were indistinguishable from a piece of furniture before that. My school's gossip rag swears it was at eleven, when I grew tits: that pair of disobedient apples stealing everyone's attention. If you ask me, I have other dates. The first time I stepped into ice-cold water without jumping in fear; that moment when the cold stopped being torture and became a warm blanket. Or when I stopped being Alessandra to become what you see in high school: a flat-bellied bitchy witch. The famous 'Cake Girl.' The one who sings Happy Birthday, Mr. President in the morning and, by the afternoon, is making out with her quarterback boyfriend in glorious 4K, while the world gives a standing ovation. The dream life of any little gringuita. At least any of them who can stand being called 'Sandy' in front of Ryan: a rag doll they rename at their whim. A set piece. No one imagines that behind it all hides an Apá who charges me for the very air I breathe. Or the static of broken headphones-fucking Android ones-trying to drown out the crunch of a broken neck following me from Sinaloa. A 'hollow shell' whose only real conversations are with men dead for centuries, asking them how they managed to lose everything without losing their minds. Welcome to the slaughterhouse. I hope you can keep up, ajá?, little piggy-pigs, because the show is starting and there are no refunds. Even if, in the end, you don't like what you find beneath my satin lace.

They say King Midas was greedy. They say he begged a god for gold. That is not the truth. Midas was a faithful husband, a devoted father, and a king who valued peace over excess. But when Dionysus grows jealous of mortal happiness, he grants Midas a "gift" that turns everything he touches to gold. When the curse is lifted, Midas believes he has been forgiven. He is wrong. What follows is not a lesson in greed - but a punishment in love, immortality, and divine cruelty. Some curses do not end at the river. Some only begin there.