Shurely

He sees memories that are not his. He knows what everything is – ground, water, sky – but he does not understand. He knows but has no experience. It would be unsettling, he assumes, if he could clarify the position he is in. But he cannot. Jerking his head left and right, he feels the energy within his core, pulsating to sustain his sleek metal body, and a stream of flexing electricity churns from the glowing filaments connected from the deadminds to his nape. He is alive. Of course, technically speaking, he has no life, but if the cardio-electromagnet were a heart, he is certain he could be classified as alive. The darkness of

The cell was largely agreeable, the solidity of the stone walls lessened by the expensive wood furniture and plush curtains. It was nothing like the cells in the dungeon: freezing and damp, rot festering in the doorways and metal bars bleeding rust. On the table in front of him was a roll of parchment, on which he had written, and now his hands were clasped in his lap. With a sigh, he opened his eyes, and his gaze was drawn to the window. Out there, they were waiting for him - he was sure of it. But his apprehension had faded, and now he was at peace. Everything had its end. He would accept his fate. He breathed in sharply as someone rapped

His name was Randolph McMillian, but he became Greg.     He was an ordinary guy, just like you and I, working as a valet on a boat. His job was to cater for the guests while they cruised around the western coast. He could hold fifteen flutes of champagne on a plate with his non-dominant hand. He didn’t get paid that much for it, and it was a pretty hard job, especially when the guests were noisy or nosy or just plain difficult, like jabbing their finger at the horizon and squealing at a whale or something (there weren’t even whales in this sea, so he didn’t know what they were going on about). But he had mediocre grades, an

The Arch Mage of Winterhold knew the way to Lord Harkon’s castle – naturally. Our rendezvous point with the Companions and Dawnguard was Dragon Bridge; thankfully, we took our time buying supplies and resting for our great confrontation against the vampires. Naomi had fashioned a strange collar and lead for the baby dragon, coaxing it along as it whined for fresh meat. Lorelei was its unexpected feeder, shooting elk in the prairies and having fun teasing the scaled beast with bloody strips of hide. More than once, Louisa and Heather had expressed their disgust, but I had seen Zayanah looking at it intently, watching it grow every

Far away from the citadel, away from the daerils that lazed in the burning sun and ran sweaty hands over their weapons, through the perilous pass through the mountains, were several fields: verdurous grass and tawny crops that rippled and shimmered in the cool wind. A river from the mountains sloshed past the fields, descending into the valley and sprinkling the nearby vegetation with white specks. There was a waterfall, and beyond it a secluded cave, of which housed the skeleton of a giant monstrosity. The sound of the river was accompanied by the chirping of crickets and soft whoosh of the crops being cut and falling into piles. The strand

She stopped calling just as she walked into a room of men. Big men. Men who didn't care that her throat was raw from shouting. Men who had probably heard her from the start and waited for her to come along. Some leant against the walls, others sat at tables. They were all relaxed. Her hand froze on the doorframe.     "Oh," was the first thing she said.     They laughed as one, loud and mocking, making her flinch. She steadied her nerves and tried again.     "What have you done with my sister?"     A woman emerged from a group of men: large, muscular, and sneering. Her hair sprouted in dirty blonde clumps upon her half-burnt scalp, like we

In the same way farmers did not understand politics, children did not understand kineses. They were innocent, endearingly so, but they were the greatest threat of all - a trait shared with farmers as well.  The children were the future, and the farmers fed the land. Where would Temporia be without them? Yet constraint had to be issued, and quotas had to be met. If both were fulfilled, then the land prospered, and there was no reason to worry. Yet society fell back on the government when it came to the Kinetics, relying on their leaders to solve the complexity of kineses and allay their fears. These children would be the next generation of Ki

We stared in disbelief. Rebecca looked pensive, scrutinising the object like it was a scientific specimen. Everyone else seemed just as dubious. Finally, Lorelei said, "That's impossible."     Naomi rounded on her. "Why?" she demanded.     "Because all the dragons we've seen haven't hatched from eggs. They appear straight from the ground, because they're being resurrected. Unless the dragons have started mating, which is highly improbable, then-"     She was interrupted by the strange crack of the object splitting. It definitely seemed like an eggshell to me. From the crevices, hidden away in the darkness of the interior, I could just abou

She was the knight in shining armour, flaming sword in hand, preaching honour and valour. She smiled at the innocents and scowled at the criminals. Her word was final, the law of the glorious city. She spoke of peace to all, for all, eternal and celebrated. There was no fear.    But who would fear a hero?    In the impenetrable darkness, skulking in the shadows, the thieves stole glances at her, cursing their failing luck. Bandits and brigands, outcast by the guards, coalesced to shame her once at for all. Yet despite their attempts, she had no weakness: no lover, no family, no followers. She was a lone wolf, able to hunt down their packs b

When the government quarantined the city, she didn't imagine the hundreds of soldiers to be waiting for her. If anything, it was flattering. She was that much of a threat, was she? A bullet hit her shoulder, narrowly missing the still bleeding knife wound, but she ignored them both. There was a hole in her stomach to boot. A few bullets weren't going to do much in stopping her. Unfortunately, the soldiers only understood her intentions once the fire in her eyes had awakened and the ground rippled towards them. They fell like pins. She leapt over the jagged spines of concrete and their snapped bodies. The sound of gunfire. The burn of the met