To Dream Too Deep

When she did not wake, she burrowed Deeper,Into the corpse-skin of the world,Where she stole the magic from forgotten gods,Ate their powers and awful disparity,Until she vomited her mortality,In the form of wriggling worms,Many-legged and blindingly yellow,(Though when crushed underheel,They leave beautifully red stains). Because she could no longer walk,Having sprouted too many eyes,She dragged … Continue reading To Dream Too Deep →

Stranger in a Strange Land

I walked the steps that Aramais built,His bones settling still in the dampness of the dream.My mouth was hidden in dry wrappings of the dead,For the shroud hid that which Unspoken covet so.In my hands I carried the only weapons permitted,The pen and book,For those like me,Chroniclers from the Skin of the World,We avoid the … Continue reading Stranger in a Strange Land →

Fever Dreams

I glimpsed the Way behind the Veil,In the Mountains behind the Dark Moon,Where thought and dreams flows like honey,Consumed as wine, stirring dreamless sleep. In the Way, Love is a spear in your side,As ever-falling blood form glistening stairs,Descending to Nine Hells' Enlightenment,Where Hermits transcend into hollow husks. Lost faerie rings expand into Cwlwm Celtaidd,The … Continue reading Fever Dreams →

The Last Dragon

The Traveler flexed her fingers, clenching into tight fists before slowly relaxing. Her fingers felt raw and hot despite the chill cutting through the worn leather of her gloves. The climb up this twisted mountain had already taken the better part of the day, and the frosty path was hardly better than a game trail … Continue reading The Last Dragon →

In the Temple of my Gods

There are times when I step away, from the fleeting march of this life, and fall into the woods of the Deep, a country of clinging fog. Beyond that step is a temple, a labyrinth, a library, the hollow within the eye of a crestfallen artist. The walls are made from the thing of dreams, … Continue reading In the Temple of my Gods →

The Fox and the Maiden’s Daughter

There used to be stories about the silver foxes that lived in the forests near the Deep. The oldest of these folktales claim that they were once fairies, spirits who lived in the world between our own and the land of gods, and served as messengers, envoys, and heralds of fortune. Perhaps it is because … Continue reading The Fox and the Maiden’s Daughter →

A Warrior Retired

Father was very old when I was still very young. Although older than the withered village elder, he was still stout and made up of hard angles as though chiseled by stone - but like stone, he was often inert. And so it fell to my eldest siblings to stir him from his bed, to … Continue reading A Warrior Retired →

The Librarians of the Red Sun

Prompt: Lovecraftian Existential Horror, Short-form, 2017 Far to the west, there is a small city of stone and marble nestled between the mountains and the sea. Somewhat isolated from the rest of the continent by geography and time, that place is home to a peculiar tradition whose roots would appear to extend far back to … Continue reading The Librarians of the Red Sun →

The Blue Flower and the Mountain

“At the very edge of the very edge of the world is a village of peaceful farmers, who spend their lives growing their livelihoods from the dead soil. Just east of that village is a mountain of peculiar construction made entirely of jet-black stone. Upon the summit of that mountaintop is a blue flower. It … Continue reading The Blue Flower and the Mountain →

The Carrion Grove

Excerpt: "Stories from the End of the World", 2018 As you know, just west of the edge of the Furrows there lies a massive forest that stretches out to the far horizon. Even if you were able to to somehow climb to the very tallest peak of that eviscerating range of crags and look out … Continue reading The Carrion Grove →