Episode 4 – A Hand Shrouded in Vines
Read the prior chapter here Read the first chapter here Crescent began her morning ritual. She looked into the mirror, at the face that still wasn’t quite hers, at the face that had once... The post...
View ArticleATTE – Recap
When I started writing, I wanted to write novels. I wanted to emulate the scope and scale of many of my favorite books. My first attempt at a novel was awful, as all first... The post ATTE – Recap...
View ArticleEpisode 5: Through the Infirmary’s Doors
Malik struck a sledgehammer against the red-hot piece of metal and the sound reverberated around the blacksmith’s shop. Nova Iren, the blacksmith housing him for the time being, gestured to another...
View ArticleEpisode 6 – Seared into Wood
There were clouds on the horizon and Abraxas hoped it wasn’t an omen. He watched them roll towards Verdant like shadows cast across the sky. He lowered his gaze, focusing instead on the long... The...
View ArticleEpisode 7 – Bound by Bloodshed
Valeria woke in the stillness before the morning. Dawn hadn’t quite arrived and she could still see the stars. Beside her, the dying embers of the fire let off a warm comforting glow. She... The post...
View ArticleEpisode 8 – Within the Palisade
Read the prior chapter here Read the first chapter here The group returned, not as conquering heroes, but as survivors. On their day’s journey back, they had traveled unmolested by the deer. Whether it...
View ArticleEpisode 9 – Flashes of Time
Malik tried to suppress the faint whirling red of irritation that crawled across his skin as Abraxas dabbed at his arm. A green salve pressed between the cracks that ran along his shoulder, feeling......
View ArticleATTE – Fanart!
This beautiful piece of Fanart was made by one of my friends. Go to @grender_comics to check out more of his stuff! The post ATTE – Fanart! appeared first on Edge of Story.
View ArticleTake the Next Bus
I met death at a bus stop, on a cold Thursday evening. I think she thought it an apt metaphor. She was a rather disappointing figure, I must say, no black cowl, no scythe,... The post Take the Next Bus...
View ArticleDipped in Snow
It was cold on the mountaintop. The winds bit into the little boy’s skin like so many ravenous beasts. His feet sank into the churning snow and each step was laboured. And his left... The post Dipped...
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