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Transmutory Declensions — Echoes & Orisons Part One
When the sexton returned from digging the poor man’s grave, moonlight carved a thin sickle of white through the shed’s window. In the pale light, the corpse’s fingernails still looked wrong: grey-black and dry, almost earthy, splitting with web-thin fractures that exposed the dead flesh beneath. With uneasy huffs and muttered curses, the sexton set his shovel aside, wiped his hands at the basin, then brought a candle to the table and lifted the corpse’s hand up to the flame’s spectral glow. He gingerly pried at a hairline crack on the corpse’s right index finger, watching as the material crumbled to the floor, nail and all. Thirty-three years in the temple’s service, and he had no clue what to make…
Witches
Sylvia drew a square on a piece of parchment. She and Lisl gazed at it by the light of the room's one lit candle. In a way, Lisl thought it was silly, but she wanted desperately to become a witch. Fourteen was too old to start over. If she failed she would have to go back to her foster family, and be a servant all her life. Her gaze grew intense. You will see the shape change, Sylvia had said. When it changes, tell me what you see. She had called this a test for mind reading, though what changing shapes on a piece of paper had to do with mind-reading, Lisl didn't understand. Suddenly the drawing was of a…
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A Spider for Aemilia — Part One
A tale in the world system of Steam & Stars. For more airships and dragons, check out Moore's award-winning novel,…
SOIL — Part Five
FIVE Sweet Child of Summer, I mourn for your skin Your cold fingers and Chillblained toes. Mother of the Autmn,…
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A Reader’s Guide to Modern Sword and Sorcery Magazines
Back in the days of yore, some 100 years ago at this point, pulp fiction magazines were everywhere. Publications like…
Forging New Nexuses: Gassing Up Genre Writers of the 1920s and 2020s
Citation abbreviation notes: AMtF: A Means to Freedom: The Letters of H. P. Lovecraft and Robert E. Howard (Volume 1)…
How ‘A Knight’s Tale’ Helped Me See My Own Journey
Some stories stay with you not because they are historically accurate or perfectly crafted, but because they remind you of…
Serial Fiction
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Echoes & Orisons
In a land of secret histories and deadly stones, prayers are the least of an archivist’s worries. On the continent of Felagren, history itself is…
Short Fiction
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The Talekeeper
The weight of old words, pages unread. I carried it with me in those days. Close to my breast I…
The First War
Barrin burst from the raging rapids that had battered him pitilessly from one squall to the next, gasping for precious…
I Was Once Yours
Blood: a pearl droplet on the meat of his thumb. Glass: a sliver, imperceptible aside from subtle pressure between two…
Once is Never Enough
Aisling held what remained of Blightheart by his horn, throwing the goblin magelord's head at the boots of her liege…