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After The Sea Tmo

Across the Huron Sea: Lust For Life

Seized by a panic such as she had never experienced in the 21 short years of her life, Mira scrambled against the man's grip, and a whiff of blood mingled with an intoxicating scent of cedar. “Shh,” he murmured, lowering his head. Pressed against his firm chest, she gulped at the dark red seeping through his shirt ivory white. She risked a glimpse up. Under a silver-black phantom half mask was a sculpted face, strands of jet-black hair sweeping his cheeks. Contrasting his pale complexion were those burgundy red lips, above which, a straight nose cast a shadow on his thin eyes the color of onyx. He glanced down at her, his gaze otherworldly. “If you’re thinking of getting on the back of the truck,” he wheezed, his larynx heaving. “Bad idea.” Deep like the rumbling sea and magnetic, his gravelly voice threatened to drown any audience. ----- History repeats itself. In a world ten thousand years after ours perishes, the planet is ruled by the First World, consisting of the Commonwealth and the Republic across the Huron Sea. 21-year-old Mira de Armas must escape the Commonwealth after a posse of vigilantes who called themselves the Reds started a revolution and persecuted her stepfather till his death. Disguised as a boy, she smuggles herself to the Republic. As she tries to escape from the Customs, she is caught by the most wanted man of the First World, the last drug lord who has taken out all the Republican cartels. The man offers to take her to safety in exchange for helping him to a bunker and treating his wound from the gunshot. Left with no choice, Mira joins forces with the man and learns that he is Dr. Warshon Qusbecq, a renowned physician by day. As their journey uncovers old memories and reveals the conspiracy behind the election of the First World Premier, their relationship evolves from suspicion to mutual dependence and affection. Through intellectual sparring and the exchange of personal stories, they reveal emotional vulnerabilities to each other that they hide from the rest of the world. Drawing on her own experiences in the Commonwealth, Mira sees the truth as she falls into the dark: that darkness exists exactly because the light is shining and enjoyed on the other side. I hope you'll enjoy this romantasy.
Ali_Gin · 9.6K Views

To Sleep In The Sea Of Time

This is a story of a guy who loses everything, and then gets it back. Same old new world story, just a different kind of story teller. *** They took away our hunter tags. They had us grow our hair. They gave us a new brand, when we were over there. They staged us out of Dragur, East of the Olim Horn. I guess they call us Slaves, but no one calls us much anymore. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. Karn brought Sorrow. Pookie brought Fear. Milk brought the fly boys. They did work in Undia. I worked mostly clandestine. Some Legends I should not say. We played with better wands. I could use the extra pay. Did Mara give the order? Did venom pay the way? They said we were slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. This was before HALO, and Codex was king. Hej atop the rider, he never felt a thing. When our rider caught a spell, and both the mages killed. It pitched us over sideways on some cold Sylph hill. My back felt like it was broken, my legs I could not feel. I kept on slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I never did heal up right from injuries sustained Officially in Torin, unofficially we train. I remember all their faces. They dream about me still. I guess I'm slaying demons, but it's kind of hard to tell. There no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I speak the cold logistic, that old boys speak so well. Veni, Vedi, Vici. I'll see you in Hel. Maybe it's bravado, or an unspeakable guilt. That village, they were demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't wanna to do it anymore. I've done plenty. What is one more? -Corb Lund *** Come guess me this riddle. What beats shire leaves and fiddle? What is hotter than pleasures touch, and whiter than cream? What best wets his whistle? What is clearer than crystal? What is sweeter than honey and stronger than steam? What will make the lame walk? What will make the dumb talk? What is the elixir of life and philosopher's stone? And what helped Pookie-Baba dig up a tunnel, that runs from Shalamanda to West-Torin? When you are digging a crater, It is the best thing in nature, for sinking your sorrows and raising your joys. Sometimes I wonder, if lightning and thunder, is made out of the plunder, of the reddest hiski and oils. *** If you can keep your head when all about you, are losing theirs and blaming it on you. If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, but make allowance for their doubting too. If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, or being hated, don’t give way to hating, And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise. If you can dream, and not make dreams your master. If you can think, and not make thoughts your aim. If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster, and treat those two impostors just the same. If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken, twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, and stoop and build them up with worn-out tools. If you can make one heap of all your winnings, and risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss and lose, and start again at your beginnings, and never breathe a word about your loss. If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew, to serve your turn long after they are gone, and so hold on when there is nothing in you; Except the Will which says to them ‘Hold on!’ If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, nor walk with Kings, nor lose the common touch. If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you. If all men count with you, but none too much. If you can fill the unforgiving minute, with sixty seconds worth of distance, run. Yours is the World and everything that’s in it, and which is more you’ll be a Man, my son. - Rudyard Kipling
man_of_culture3030 · 692.1K Views

To you: After the End

Leor, a man with a poor background yet a good life with his siblings. One night, everything falls apart, all because of a nightmare, or was it really a nightmare? Join his journey to become an Aetherborn as he struggles to survive in a world filled with mysteries, extreme hierarchy, unfathomable power and dangers. ----------------------------------------------------------- Leor always had a thirst for something big, a grand purpose, but life was boring—just peace and quiet with his siblings. The world heard his pleas, as the night that changed everything forever came. Thrust into a realm of Aetherborns, gods, and monsters, Facing ruthless enemies and unimaginable horrors, all while struggling to protect the only family he has left. Oh, the peace he took for granted, Will he ever get it back? And what the hell is this man named Johan doing in his room naked? Johan thought waking up in a fantasy–Victorian-era world would be a dream come true. Well, dreams and nightmares are the same thing. Trapped in a world ruled by corruption and unnatural evil, he realizes this isn’t the adventure he imagined. All he wants is to go back home, back to the life of a high school boy, whose biggest problem was how to go out with his crush. After all this, that sounds like an unimaginable dream to him, But first, why is he even here? What in the hell is this world? In a world where power comes at a cost, survival is the greatest desire. Tags: #dark #Mystery #Tragic
Puffin_lore · 2.9K Views

What Comes After?

What comes after the end? The inescapable void? A relentless darkness where hope is nothing but a distant memory? Who do you trust when you can’t even trust yourself? When the echoes of your past mistakes haunt every step, and the shadows seem to whisper your deepest fears? I asked myself these questions before and after Z-day. I ask them every waking moment, but the answers never come. They never have, and I don’t think they ever will. In a world stripped of its humanity, where survival is the only law, the truth feels like a luxury we can no longer afford. I know that those left behind are the worst of humanity—the scavengers, the betrayers, the ones who have embraced the darkness. But there are also others who fell at the last minute, those who clung to their last shreds of decency before the end swallowed them whole. Some are burdened with crimes that seem small compared to the horrors that now plague the earth, yet the punishment is the same for us all. The doctrine says that sin is sin, no matter the good intentions behind it. I guess they were right. This world is unforgiving, and it doesn’t care about the reasons that led us here. Do I hate it here? Yes, I do. Every breath I take in this poisoned air is a reminder of what we’ve lost. Do I regret being here? Of course not, because I have a sister to protect. She’s my only tether to what’s left of my humanity, my only reason to keep fighting when everything else has been reduced to ash. My name is Paul Okonkwo, and I will get her safely through this hell on earth, even if it’s the last thing I do. No matter what this broken world throws at us, no matter how deep I have to sink into the darkness, I will be the shield that keeps her safe. Because in the end, that’s all that matters—keeping her alive, keeping her safe, even if it means sacrificing what little is left of myself.
Wisdom_Okolue · 727 Views
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