Standalone – Bonds


~ For my best friend, my sister in heart. In loving memory of MDC(Y). ~


A Mountain Overlook Outside the Capital City of Neluk.


Meya Hestina kept her body low to the ground, holding the feline form of the kurag she was attuned to. A deadly predator, she moved silently through the tall grass, ropey muscles tensing as she wound between trees and low, leafy plants. In the darkness, where the light of the moon couldn’t reach through the thick canopy of arching branches and purplish blue and green leaves, her deep red fur was indistinguishable from her surroundings. Black tipped her short, pointed ears and long tail, and ran in a line from the crown of her head to a point between her shoulder blades, narrowing as it went.

An anuk aspect, this was her chosen animal. She had practiced until keeping this form became second nature. Barely needing to concentrate, she was free to let her senses roam. Picking up the soft pulse of the energies around her. Listening to the faint rustling sounds of wind in the leaves and the heartbeats of other creatures. Her sharp, pale blue eyes caught the subtle movements of those smaller animals in the darkness.

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Ascension (Chapter One)

Certain death waited ahead. This was it. Mayun Tejans knew she was going to die.

An honorable death? In some grand battle?

No. Not so much. More of a very awkward, flailing, screaming kind of death where she was at risk of tripping over her own feet and injuring others on her way down.

Just a few feet behind her was the path leading back down the mountain. But even though escape was within her reach, she didn’t dare turn around. There was a totally different kind of doom lying in wait if she did. She could feel her trainer’s steely gaze fixed on her, like a steady pressure at her back.

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Kronen: Standalone One – Patriarch

~ For my hero. In loving memory of LMD. ~


Iseyba, the First City

The Hall of Memories


Kronen walked through the cavernous room ahead of his students, his gaze moving along the rows of carefully placed crystals. There were millions lining the four walls, carefully stored in carved alcoves. Each shimmered with different colors, reflecting the light from the tall windows.

Two large, wooden tables dominated the center of the room. Supplies for recording the contents of the crystals were neatly placed at regular intervals. Others of his kind, garshik, were quietly studying and writing observations or organizing to make room for more crystals in the alcoves.

Although he was drawn to this place again, as he often was lately, he had a purpose this day.

Um Gura aro Setsarana. The Hall of Memories.

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The Dreamer (Chapter One)

“Surrender… Or your people will suffer,” a distant voice said.

Like a muffled echo, Rina heard the sounds of battle. Metal striking metal. Explosive bursts of energy as spells clashed with each other. It filled her ears, growing in intensity. The dream changed around her, just long enough to afford a hazy glimpse of a Jiru’s throne room. And then it was gone, as quickly as it had come.

“What was that?” Rina said, a frown furrowing her brow as she glanced around. Everything was back to normal. She was standing under a tree, by a peaceful lake.

The man standing in front of her smiled gently, but seemed a little sad to her. “It’s fading,” he answered vaguely. Dark green eyes studied her face, before looking away. The sunlight made his shaggy brown hair shine with shades of red. “My time is almost up.” He sighed, returned his gaze to her, and moved closer. Lifting a hand, he tucked a stray wisp of her long blonde hair behind her ear, then reached for her hand. “Distract me, naori. I am not ready to leave yet.”

Rina smiled. “This is my dream,” she said, entwining their fingers. “I say when you go.”

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Beyond the Gate (Chapter One)

Apocalypse averted for another day, according to the numbers at least.

Energy field normal.

Flow and transfer of power balanced.

Realm splice at zero.

Arute shift at zero.

Leakage of void energy on either side at zero.

Incidence of accidental arute jumps in the last day, zero. And in the last week. In the last month. The last year.

Ori Vikan stared at the pages spread out on the table in front of him and sighed. The faint ticking of the clock on the far wall was the only sound in the brightly lit study, and reminded him just how many hours he’d been pouring over the numbers and measurements. It was all starting to blur together. Slouching back in his chair, he scrubbed his hands over his face and rubbed at weary eyes.

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