Fantasy Mystery
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The dark days are over and all that everyone expects are brighter days ahead.
In a world where different types of mythical creatures coexist there might be differences, differences that are beyond unfathomable, but between all th...
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A tide of unbelievable reality hit her in the finality of a stray arrow.
As if bearing the knowledge that it was in her backpack wasn't perilous enough, she had lost it to a random goblin in the school.
That alone could be her direct ticket to the deep recess of the afterlife.
Monday’s luck was seeping into a whole new level; proclaiming itself to ruin her life.
While she had been carrying the bag with her all along, she wondered how anyone could have made it to steal from her.
She knew that goblins were exemplars, but she didn’t think that she was vulnerable to their plays with so much heed.
The fact that she was painting a donkey in a desperate attempt to prove that Alma was a nightmare bothered her less to the fact that Phoebi’s mouth could have been the cause of it all.
“Who did you tell?” The look in Carmiabell’s eyes as she turned to face Phoebi resembled that of a peesed serpent.
She knew from the start that picking up that thing would lead to no good, but who made it happen otherwise. Now its gone and their lives are on the lane.
“No one,” Phoebi uttered in defence.
Her words would have easily crossed Carmiabell’s border of trust if she hadn't been mouthing all her secrets to her since they first met.
“I will ask you one last time. Who did you tell?” She quizzed between gritted teeth with a hard edge in her tone.
Phoebi took a step back Zuina interjecting in the heating up space.
“Hey, no fighting today. I've already had enough suspensions,” she muttered as she stretched her arms between them. “What are you even fighting about?”
Carmiabell’s eyes doing all the talking, Phoebi moved towards Zuina’s ears and whispered the words.
Surprise shook her grounds as an expression similar to that of one that had seen it stretched across her face.
“Are you two mad?”
At lest she hadn't missed some History lessons. She knew the repercussions brought by the piece of diabolical artifact.
From the dawn of a new era kicked off by the departure of the great Neporian, nightmares were known for all but good.
Their motives were no different from those of the devil himself, just but they were worse.
Legends conceal most of what happened in the medieval ages, but one thing is for sure, blood had painted Ellialand just enough to trigger rage in the twelve witches of flames and ice.
For the betterment of Ellialand Nightmares had to be eradicated and seized from being and the witches were experts in the field.
Until great philosophers, witch doctors, and other educated faculties devised the universal elixir nightmares had been ostracized and executed on sight.
The Neporian’s ashes being rumored to be the major ingredient, not many are acquainted with the elixir, not even in the recent century, but one thing for sure, once acquainted life never goes back to being the same.
