Mythicfiction Stories

The war storms at the Frontier... The gods are broken. The empire is burning. And the end has already begun. A warrior with no past unleashes power no mortal should wield. A young ruler clings to a dying crown as his people lose faith. A chaos mage, feared and revered, walks with death in her shadow. Amongst their ranks-two Rifter siblings, wilders of ruin, benders of space and time. Feared. Watched. Leashed by the most powerful. But even under chains, love blooms... and loyalty begins to shift. When the empress falls into a cursed slumber-her unborn child the last ember of prophecy- the empire sends its strongest into the Abyss of Lost Quintessence: A place where even time forgets itself, where silence hungers, and where One of the Roots of the Umbrovyn Tree stands-ancient, cracked, and bleeding memory. Monstrosities roam, daring to strike in daylight. The veils whisper betrayal. Alliances splinter. Some stand frozen, unsure of their next move- fearing one wrong step may provoke the wrath of a dominion vast as a world and cruel as the gods who forged it. Old gods stir, craving redemption through ruin. The Royal House fractures beneath betrayal. A founding father, long patient, now bares their intent- to seize the throne by force, by cunning, by wagering all that is. Their House's malice toward the flawed Royal line can no longer be cloaked. Love will test loyalty. Legends will bleed. And in the dying light of Ether-Space- The Aurora must not fall... Or all realities will burn. 🔥

🎏 Author Comment: This tale has been designed and written for younger readers but it can be enjoyed by all. ─ᛰ─ In the elder days before mortal kings etched their borders into stone, before time was measured by crowns and conquests, when Elven Folk shared the world with mortals under treaties older than memory, there came upon our people an age of quiet sundering. It was a time when Giants still walked the high places, when Dragons passed like storms along the horizons, and when Elven Folk shared the world with mortals under treaties older than memory. Yet even then, doubt found root. In those days there arose among mortals a whispering hunger, seeded by those who wore borrowed faces. The Changeling Wizards, who fed fear as if it were wisdom. Convincing mortal kings, the magic of the elves no longer served them. What had once been shared truth became superstition. What had once been kinship became a war of wills. From that hour, the old goodwill ended. Thus the space between our peoples widened, until the old paths closed and we were pressed back into the frost-bitten heights of our ancestral lands. And what would happen next would leave the old world in the silent throes of an uneasy realization that all was not as it seemed... A time when love and acceptance became fear and those fears bred greed. Greed bred forgetting. And forgetting became blame. But in that age arose two souls. One born of mortal blood, one of mortal grace. Who chose to stand where others turned away. Alvaro, and Daniela of the western shores, whose names the stone itself remembers. ─ᛰ─ ONC Prompt 78 You begin to realize that things are not as they seem. 🎏 Author Comment: This tale has been designed and written for younger readers but it can be enjoyed by all.

They called him a saint when they buried him, but saints don't bleed and they don't beg. Theo Whitlock was only supposed to document the church-forgotten, unearthed, and hidden deep within the Lacandon jungle. But beneath the altar lies a man turned to stone. A voice erased by holy men. A memory sealed so tightly it cracked the earth to be heard again. And when Theo steps inside, something awakens. Something ancient. Something that loved-and was punished for it. The jungle remembers. The church listens. And the Saint beneath the altar is still waiting. He was never meant to be freed. Because when love rises again, the world will bleed. ((updates Sundays/Mondays, Tuesdays/Wednesdays and Fridays))

After a millennium of peace, the gods' arena awakens early. Across the eight divine Domains, mortal champions are chosen once more to carry immortal power into battle. Axis, the prodigy of the New Gods, enters the war seeking order but finds only chaos-Avatars dying before their names are recorded, realms collapsing, and fragments of forgotten history resurfacing. As the Fracture widens and the Triüm fall silent, Axis begins to piece together the impossible: the wars are not saving creation-they are resetting it. Now, every strike of the blade might decide whether reality survives or finally remembers how to end.

Neverland is a quiet, luminous fantasy about a warrior named Iskar who walks alone toward a hidden, sacred lake after being betrayed by the very people he saved. Mortally wounded and emotionally exhausted, he seeks not vengeance, but release. Beneath the glow of a full moon, he is met by Az-revealed to be Azrael-who gently recounts the story of Iskar's life: a boy shaped by hatred, a man forged in war, and a soul that chose sacrifice over bitterness. As a great ancient creature rises to honor him and light lifts him from his broken body, Iskar is carried beyond the world he was never truly loved by. On a radiant shore of peace, he walks along fading footprints, confronting his anger, regret, and longing for belonging. In the end, he steps forward into a place not of escape, but of earned rest-a Neverland that is not about childhood, but about finally being free.

Set in ancient Greece, on the island of Kerkyra (modern-day Corfu). The core of this short story revolves around the tragic destiny of a humble shepherd surrounded by his son's need for vengeance. At the same time the island comes to life in a zealous support helped by the cicadas' chants.

A dark ship sinks under unspoken forces, but one ancient will survives in the wreck. Centuries later, a child uncovers its buried remnant..... and the Wanderer of the Abyss returns to the world.

Mythic ecofiction for people who enjoy ancient Greek and Old Norse mythology, and bible stories. Ecoterrorist attacks, a mysterious pandemic and the emergence of sects are part of this world. Suzanne is a Scottish engineer, specialised in optics, who seems to have a perfect life: a nice house in Edinburgh, a beautiful daughter, charming husband and a good career. But it is clear that something is missing in her life: she ignores her past, and the person who she was in her early twenties. Something happened to her when she was living in Cameroon. Something which has to do with a birch. The story starts in the period between winter and spring, events start to shake up her life. Her daughter has now the age she had when she was in Cameroon and is sent to a project in Japan. When her daughter disappears in the Far East, Suzanne's past is coming back.

In a forest that listens, remembers, and waits, three children step into a story older than the stars. In the fae village of Thistlemoor, stories are more than bedtime tales - they are warnings, half-truths, and sometimes, prophecies. When Prince Aurin, gentle-hearted Lira, and brave Corwin wander into the woods to hear an old fae woman's tale, they don't expect the forest to respond. But the trees whisper. The water watches. And the circle of stones begins to stir. Beneath the roots lies the grave of a cleric who gave too much, and the friend who would not rot. Around them: a tangle of forgotten magic, poisonous beauty, and truths the fae would rather remain buried. As the children are pulled deeper into the forest's memory, they must follow the signs and decide what must be kept alive, and what must finally be let go. Because some stories don't end. They wait. And in the circle of stones, all things bloom again.

In 1830s New Orleans, the dead do not rest-and neither do the sins of the powerful. When Seraphine DuRue, a rumored blood-witch healer, is accused of resurrecting the dead, she becomes the city's next offering to its sugar-coated monsters. Lucien Vale, a witch-hunter bound by his own curse, is sent to drag her into the light. But Rue Noire hides saints carved from bone, spirits hungry for justice, and a woman whose blood may burn the city down. Love is forbidden. Magic is outlawed. And salvation always demands a sacrifice.

25 May, 1500. The world is still whole. Kingdoms rise, empires breathe, and most believe in one God. Far across oceans and deserts, men dream of discovery and war-yet none know the silence beneath their feet. Beneath the forgotten soils of the New World, a Tree stands where no road leads. It is ancient. Unseen. And conscious. It waits. Across distant lands, dreams begin to echo. A name stirs in the sleep of sailors, mystics, and madmen. A shadow begins to stretch across the coming centuries-slowly, silently. A great evil is being born. And the one meant to stop it... hasn't even been born yet. The world will forget what it once feared. But the Tree will not.

They believed that Greek gods were just legends, some made up stories that no one bothered to look back at , but what happens when you get a map from those books, meet new people who claim you're in danger, discovering that you're supposed to save the world. If I tell you Greek gods are alive and everything is real, would you believe me, highly unlikely . That's what the did too until they were proved wrong. Everything was normal just a few days ago.

When a divine child is exiled to Earth in a robe that refuses to reveal his destiny, humans learn too late: some stars fall for a reason. A dark fantasy about broken divinity and the cost of remembrance.

In the shadow of Rome's conquest, a child is born of two worlds-Alonwyn, daughter of an African soldier torn from Aethiopia and a Celtic woman of Gaul. Orphaned by violence and raised by a druid who teaches her the old ways, she grows into a woman revered for her voice, her wisdom, and the uncanny depth of her gaze. But when Rome's legions return to burn her village and desecrate the sacred grove, grief and fury awaken a power darker than she ever imagined. In the ashes of her people, the goddess Carthwyn-she who governs death and sacred terror-offers Alonwyn the Bone Harp, an instrument strung with sorrow itself. With it, she may summon vengeance so absolute it would stain the earth forever. Alonwyn must choose: surrender her spirit to the goddess and let her song become a dirge of death, or defy the divine, bearing the weight of memory rather than bloodshed. Her journey is one of mourning and defiance, where music becomes both wound and healing, and where the gods themselves test the limits of mortal resolve. Myth and history entwine in The Bone Harp, a story of ancestry, vengeance, and the redemptive power of memory. Through Alonwyn's struggle, we are reminded that even in a world devoured by empire, there is strength in refusing to forget-and in choosing life when death beckons.

"World of Silence" A poetic journey through a universe shaped not by sound, but by stillness. In a world where silence speaks louder than words, stories are written with footsteps, glances, and the breath between moments. Wanderers walk not to arrive, but to remember. Time does not pass - it listens. And each letter discovered is not a tool, but a seed. "World of Silence" is a lyrical tale told in fragments, rhythms, and pauses - part myth, part meditation. It follows the quiet paths of Imra, Eo, Var, and the Being, as they traverse a land woven from memory, silence, and awakening. A place where a whisper can end a city, and a single flutter of wings might rewrite the shape of the world. This is not a story of heroes. It is a story of echoes. Of the weight behind stillness. Of everything that happens when nothing happens. If you listen closely, You might hear yourself.

The flame has split. The flame has chosen. Zariah Baptiste is no longer just the heir of Nyah Sungbo or the keeper of ancestral fire-she is Nia'tari, the Flame That Chooses. But creation is never without consequence. As her power evolves, so too does the darkness that once slumbered beneath the earth. A new threat rises-Veyra, born from the fire Zariah tried to forget. She is vengeance without memory. A future corrupted before it could even begin. Across continents, names vanish from history. Elders fall silent. And deep in a salt-cracked temple, something older than gods watches with hunger in its golden eye. Now, Nia'tari must face the shadow of her own becoming, protect Ayika-the last Firstborn-and confront the cost of choosing creation over destruction. Because the fire no longer just remembers... It dreams. And dreams, once awakened, can burn the world clean.

"I asked for infinite wishes. The world gave them to me. And now it won't stop lying to itself to make them true." In a dying desert city, a nameless boy digs beneath the bones of a forgotten temple and finds something that should never have been uncovered. A lamp. A voice. And a single wish that cracks the world open. But magic this deep doesn't stay quiet. The world bends to accommodate the impossible-rewriting maps, rewriting memories, rewriting history. And somewhere in those folds, the truth begins to rot. He doesn't just change fate-he leaves fingerprints on reality itself. As time stretches and reality warps around the echoes of his decisions, those who notice begin to gather. Historians, mystics, heretics-an order built not to worship him, but to find the source of the distortions... and end them. He has gone by many names. But he remembers the first. And the wish that started everything. This isn't the story of a chosen one. It's the story of what happens after a wish works. One wish. One boy. A world that can't stop echoing.

I was never one to believe in dreams. I never remembered them. To me, they were baseless-pointless-merely illusions, you see. But I soon realized, that I only ever thought so, because I always forgot them before I even remembered them. I always forgot my dreams even while I was in one. ____ Three dreams. Three Lives. One Dreamer. Hazen was different. In a world of witches, she was born a twin-but only by accident. A child who stole strength in the womb. Her limbs brimmed with power, while her sister's heart beat too faintly. Rina, the beloved twin, healed with the touch of her fingers, breathed life into herbs with the songs in her throat- but she was always too soft. Too fragile. And when the world silently wished her stronger, Hazen did what they all hoped. She gave it all back. Yet, as the days rolled on, as her fate crept closer, Hazen asked for just one miracle of her own. She wished to dream. ___ Cover by me.

Set inside a harem that functions like a sealed universe, where a sleepless Lady, her devoted Attendant, and a Prince admired by all but withholding Intimacy. Queer longing moves quietly through gardens, stories, and withheld names, building toward a truth the palace refuses to acknowledge. Dreamlike, sensual, and unsettling, this is a story about love that cannot be spoken-and the institutions that endure by swallowing it.

Once worshiped by all mankind, the Greek Deities have near been forgotten. Worshiping of them ceasedas the Christian movement set in, and they are thought t no longer exist. But this is far from true. They are dormant, and unseen. But you can not kill a God. They have indeed been watching, and much like the likes of Herakles and Perseus, they have found favourites within today’s society. These favourites are gifted. In mortality and some cases Immortality. With unique affects and abilities, they move and live in the City Of Angels. Carrying out regular lives as the Gods wished they could. Some believe these chosen are blessed when they reach a certain stage in life. Others say it is near death when the Gods step in to aid their favourite, blessing them with a second chance. When one of their own is kidnapped, the divine group must follow the footsteps of ancient heroes to get her back.