1: [Short Stories #1] "Finding the Sun of My Sky: Bloom's Journey" [1/2]
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Within the intricate tapestry of our vast world, a hidden sanctuary emerges—Nighthaven, an expansive and mysterious forest veiled in an impenetrable cloak of darkness. The towering timbers, reaching skyward, appear to consume light itself, casting an everlasting twilight where neither the sun's rays nor the gentle flicker of flames dare to breach. In this realm of perpetual night, its inhabitants come into being shrouded in the absence of sight.
Nighthaven, a world crafted in a myriad of black hues, denies the very existence of color. Its denizens, oblivious to the visual spectrum, are born strangers to the concept of sight. In their world of four senses—touch, taste, smell, and sound—they navigate through an awareness confined by the limitations of their senses. Deprived of the gift of vision, they form mental images based on the tactile, auditory, olfactory, and gustatory dimensions of their surroundings. Here, in this secluded enclave, the canvas of perception is painted not in the vibrant strokes of color but in the subtleties of their restricted senses, creating a narrative woven in the depths of eternal night.
Yet amid the prevailing shadows of Nighthaven, life unfolded in a chiaroscuro of exceptions, and there emerged Bloom, a luminous anomaly in the tapestry of monotony. The solitary scion of his lineage, his eyes bore an otherworldly luminescence, a radiant emanation that divulged his extraordinary endowment. Unparalleled among his peers, Bloom possessed the rare faculty to apprehend light itself, unraveling the ineffable intricacies—the play of shadows, the nuanced contours of moonlit silhouettes, and the elusive ballet of starlight. However, Bloom's revelation confronted a formidable resistance within the hallowed precincts of his own kin. Initially steeped in skepticism, his progenitors summarily dismissed his extraordinary visions as mere phantoms birthed from the forge of imagination. They adamantly proclaimed the nonexistence of such phenomena, driven by a latent fear of consequences yet unknown. In dread of potential ramifications, they vehemently dissuaded Bloom from sharing his unique gift, their warnings laced with the ominous threat of retribution should he defy their authoritative directive. Consequently, Bloom found himself adrift in solitude, the solitary candle flickering in the profound darkness that enveloped him.
In the velvety obscurity, however, a contrasting brilliance endured—an effulgent soul named Sky, a paragon of unwavering faith in Bloom's extraordinary faculty. Though akin to the sightless denizens of Nighthaven, Sky perceived the world not through ocular perception but through the luminosity residing within her heart. Persistently beseeching Bloom to articulate his visual marvels, she regarded his narratives not as mere tales but as resplendent tapestries woven from the uncharted hues of the unseen. Thus, Bloom spent the entirety of his childhood years regaling Sky with the enigmatic wonders that unfolded before his unique gaze, the duo carving out a sanctuary of shared illumination in the all-encompassing murk of their world. As the years passed, Bloom's abilities continued to evolve. His descriptions of the world gained depth and nuance, revealing the beauty that eluded the senses of his fellow inhabitants. Sky, in turn, became a conduit for this hidden world, translating Bloom's visions into a language of emotion and imagination that resonated with the hearts of those who listened.
In the shroud of night, Bloom discerned a distant enchantment bathed in an unfamiliar radiance, a luminosity that eluded his grasp. He attempted to articulate this elusive spectacle, likening it to the gentle glow of moonlight yet marked by a luminosity distinct and enigmatic, as if the very essence of radiance had taken on an unfamiliar form.
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2: [Short Stories #1] "Finding the Sun of My Sky: Bloom's Journey"[2/2]
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Bloom's extraordinary gift began to spread beyond the secluded enclave, reaching curious ears and stirring a longing in others to perceive a world beyond the confines of touch, taste, smell, and sound. Nighthaven, once bound by the limitations of its inhabitants, now found itself on the cusp of change. The once impenetrable cloak of darkness began to shimmer with the possibility of a broader spectrum of understanding. Yet, as whispers of Bloom's gift reached the ears of those who held power in Nighthaven, a shadow of fear and resistance descended upon the enclave. Leaders and traditionalists, wary of disrupting the established order, sought to suppress the burgeoning awareness that Bloom's revelations ignited. They viewed his ability not as a gift but as a threat to the stability of their world, fearing that the introduction of a new sense could unravel the delicate balance that had endured for generations.
In a solemn decree, the leaders of Nighthaven, cloaked in the weight of tradition, banished Bloom from the confines of their nocturnal sanctuary. The solitary flame, once revered for its uniqueness, now flickered on the outskirts, an exile from the embrace of the towering timbers. Bloom, with the weight of his visions and the alien radiance clinging to him, stood on the precipice of an unknown realm. Yet, in the face of exile, Bloom was not alone. Sky, the stalwart believer who had traversed the tapestry of his revelations, chose to stand by his side. Together, they ventured into the uncharted territories beyond Nighthaven, a tandem bound by shared curiosity and a refusal to succumb to the shadows of fear. The luminosity that had sparked the upheaval became their guiding beacon. Bloom, once a pariah, now found purpose in unraveling the mysteries of this newfound radiance. Their journey led them to the discovery of beings possessing extraordinary capacities, beings akin to humans but with abilities that transcended the norm. The first encounter revealed individuals who could glide through the ocean depths like ethereal fish. Mesmerized, Bloom and Sky listened to vivid descriptions of the hidden beauty beneath the waves: schools of iridescent fish, exotic herbs swaying with the current, and a realm untouched by the limitations of Nighthaven. For Bloom and Sky, these encounters transcended the realm of mere tales; they served as portals to a world previously confined to the realms of their dreams. The allure of the unknown propelled them forward, their senses intoxicated by the promise of a reality that extended beyond the familiar boundaries of touch, taste, smell, and sound. Each revelation acted as a brushstroke on the canvas of their perception, infusing new hues and expanding the tapestry of their understanding.
As their odyssey unfolded, they crossed paths with a multitude of beings, each possessing unique capabilities. From those who communed effortlessly with animals to individuals who could decipher the very fabric of ideas, and even those who wielded the power to materialize and dematerialize at will. These encounters were not merely diversions along their journey but revelations that reshaped the contours of their comprehension. In the recurrent pursuit of understanding, Bloom persistently sought answers about the celestial mystery—an enigmatic luminous object resembling the moon but adorned with a distinct glow. Yet, with each inquiry, precision eluded him, leaving the cosmic puzzle suspended in the vastness of uncertainty. Unfazed, Bloom and Sky pressed on, their footsteps echoing in synchrony with their unyielding curiosity. Suddenly, the atmosphere underwent a subtle transformation. Bloom, attuned to the nuances of his surroundings, noted the gradual clearing of the weather and the dissipation of the once-pervasive darkness. A glimmer of clarity emerged, paving the way for the revelation that awaited them on the horizon. Unexpectedly, the duo encountered beings with wings, soaring gracefully through the sky. The spectacle unfolded before them like a living tapestry of celestial elegance, leaving Bloom and Sky entranced. Inquisitive as ever, Bloom approached these winged entities, seeking not only an understanding of their aerial prowess but also answers about the elusive luminous object that had stirred his curiosity. With smiles that mirrored the radiance of their flight, the winged beings responded, revealing the cosmic secret. "It is the sun," they declared, the words resonating like a celestial anthem. The sun, the universal illuminator, held sway over the vast expanse. Bloom, captivated by this revelation, sought further guidance on its whereabouts.
The winged entities, ever gracious, gestured towards the horizon, assuring Bloom that the sun would manifest on its own as dawn approached. As the first rays of dawn began to kiss the horizon, a soft luminescence painted the landscape. The winged beings, their silhouettes now outlined by the burgeoning light, gracefully guided Bloom and Sky towards a vantage point. There, amidst the serene ambiance of the approaching dawn, they would bear witness to the revelation of the sun. Time seemed to hold its breath as the horizon transformed into a canvas ablaze with hues unseen in Nighthaven. The air shimmered with the promise of a new day, and as the first sliver of the sun peeked above the edge of the world, Bloom felt a surge of emotion. He finally saw the sun. He finally sees the sun, and turning to Sky, he exclaims, "I've found the sun of my Sky." Sky smiles, basking in the warmth of the sun, and asks Bloom to describe the view so she can etch it into her memory.
Bloom and Sky, at some point, harbor a desire to return to Nighthaven, but they can't find a way back. It's as if the path home is vanishing with the light of the sun. Bloom is disturbed by this, but Sky, with a serene smile, reassures him, saying, "We should go forward and discover the mysteries of this universe."
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3: [Short Stories #2] Don't Extinguish my Flame
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*Authors : Tima EL & Khalil Z.*
**In the enchanted realm of Celestria, where every soul possesses a mystical flame known as "Eclipsis," the sky dances with the collective radiance of its people. Amidst this luminous symphony, a shadowy force emerges—a darkness that hungers to shroud the brilliance of these magical flames.**
Enter the Shadowvores, inhabitants of Celestria who are denied the embrace of Eclipsis. Instead, they bear formidable and robust bodies, enhancing their strength by absorbing and extinguishing the radiant Eclipsis flames of others. They embody the antithesis of Celestria, disrupting the delicate balance upheld by the natural ebb and flow of magical flames. With each extinguished Eclipsis flame, the once-vibrant light of Celestria wanes.
At the heart of Celestria lies the Arcane Ember, the source of all Eclipsis flames. The people of Celestria engage in an eternal struggle against the Shadowvores, who crave this magical ember, bestowing absolute power upon its possessor. One fateful day, the Shadowweavers decide to launch a collective assault on the Celestrians, intent on seizing the Arcane Ember—the fount of unparalleled power. The consequence is grave: all the valiant inhabitants of Celestria succumb to the relentless onslaught.
Remaining alone in Celestria, the Shadowvores start to vie for the coveted Arcane Ember. One Shadowweaver, thirsting for power driven by an insatiable hunger, stands before the radiant artifact, proclaiming,* "This is the flame I've been waiting for a long time."* The mystical ember responds with ancient wisdom, saying,* "And I, too, have awaited your presence for a long time."* Perplexed, the Shadowvore questions,* "You've been waiting for me?"*
The Arcane Ember imparts a timeless truth,* "With every day's end, the night descends, and in the darkness, a promise lingers — after every night's embrace, the day invariably returns."* Determined to cast Celestria into eternal darkness, the Shadowvore retorts,* "The night in Celestria will never dawn."* In a plea to preserve its luminance, the Arcane Ember urges,* "Don't extinguish my flame."*
Undeterred, the Shadowvore declares, *"You are the last beacon of light in my darkness. My strength won't reach its zenith if I don't extinguish you."*
The Arcane Ember, embodying the essence of duality, counters, *" Do you think your strength will have meaning after extinguishing me?"*
Undeterred by the wisdom offered, the Shadowvore remains steadfast in their resolve. *"I care not for the meaning of strength. I crave power, dominance, and the eternal night that shall reign over Celestria,"* they declare with an ominous intensity.
The Arcane Ember's voice resonates with a potent echo,* "In your pursuit of power, you risk losing the very foundation of existence. Celestria thrives on the delicate dance between opposites. Darkness needs light, just as strength needs meaning. Without balance, your power becomes an empty void. Let the day dawn again."*
A profound silence envelops the realm of Celestria as the clash between light and darkness reaches its zenith, echoing through the magical tapestry of this enchanted world....
Note : "The link below contains the image that is the source of inspiration for writing this short story :) "
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4: [Short Stories #3] Awaiting You
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Royal Gambit is an annual event organized by the Cogitaria realm to select its new king. The game involves a chess match between two participants: the candidate and the reigning king. The coveted prize is a tiger mask crown, symbolizing royal authority. The victor ascends to the throne as the new king, while the defeated succumbs to their demise.
For over decades, the throne of Cogitaria has remained unchallenged, as fear of the perilous stakes in the Royal Gambit game dissuades potential contenders. Each year, the reigning king eagerly awaits a challenger, yet no brave soul steps forward to partake in the high-stakes game, leaving the kingdom in a prolonged state of suspense.
However, amidst this prolonged era of unchallenged rule, an exception emerged during one of the annual Cogitaria festivals dedicated to selecting the new king through the Royal Gambit. A stranger, passing through the realm, caught wind of the festivities that had lingered for more than a week, awaiting a candidate brave enough to face the reigning monarch. Intrigued by the mysterious allure of the event, the stranger decided to step into the fray.
As the chessboard opened after decades of dormancy, each piece took its rightful place, setting the stage for the Royal Gambit to commence. The chess pieces clicked and clacked, echoing the strategic dance that would ultimately decide the kingdom's destiny. With a masterful stroke, the stranger executed a climactic checkmate, the chess pieces freezing in place as the kingdom held its breath. Victory was claimed, and the once-elusive tiger mask crown now adorned the head of the triumphant stranger.
*“Every narrative in life has its genesis and conclusion. Time is the only constant, and no one is immortal within their kingdom. The realm awaits the stranger's next move, recognizing that even in victory, the cycle of change and challenge remains an inevitable force.”*
Inspired by this image :
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5: [Short Stories #4 ] A Red Flower Among the Ice [1/3]
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The radio crackled softly in the dim kitchen, the announcer’s voice steady but tinged with concern.
“This week, heavy snow is expected. Please be careful if you must travel and …”
Karl was busy on the living room floor, toy cars rattling loudly in his hands as they scattered across the rug. His father, standing in the kitchen doorway, raised a hand gently.
“Karl, please, not so much noise. I want to listen to what they’re saying on the radio.”
“Sorry, Dad,” Karl muttered, setting one of his cars aside, his brow furrowed with boredom.
Their mother entered, phone pressed to her ear, a tired sigh escaping her lips.
“No classes this week,” she announced.
Karl groaned, “Another boring week stuck at home.”
“Dinner’s ready,” his mother called, her voice breaking the silence. “Come eat before it gets cold.”
Karl trudged to the table, the long winter night stretching out before him—cold and quiet, just like the thick ice blanketing the world beyond their windows. The house felt suspended in time, the wind whistling now and then, the only other sound the gentle hum of the old radio. Outside, street lamps cast faint halos through frosted glass.
The days passed slowly, one blending into the next, each wrapped in an endless layer of white. The world outside seemed to hold its breath, every noise muffled by the heavy snow. Streets once filled with color and movement were now hushed and blank, as if time itself had frozen.
At last, on the final day of the week, their mother opened a window wide.
“Look,” she whispered. “The snow has stopped. It’s beautiful today.”
Karl hurried to her side, eyes wide as he peered out. The garden glistened beneath the weak morning sun, untouched except for delicate patterns of frost sparkling quietly.
“Can I go outside? Just for a little while?” Karl pleaded, his hope unmistakable.
His mother smiled softly.
“Okay, but dress warmly—and don’t go too far.”
Bundled up in scarf and mittens, Karl stepped outside, his breath clouding in the crisp air. He clutched his favorite toy car, venturing into the silent, frozen yard. Everywhere he looked, white shimmered—nature itself seemed on the verge of beginning anew.
Suddenly, amid the endless white, a surprising splash of color caught his eye.
“What’s that?” Karl whispered.
Moving closer, he saw it: a single brave red flower pushing through the icy crust, vivid and alive against the snow. Its petals tilted upward, reaching as if to catch every drop of sunlight.
The sight filled Karl with wonder.
“So beautiful,” he murmured. “What are you doing here, all alone?”
He circled the flower, curiosity mounting. He didn’t understand how anything so small, so delicate, could survive here.
“I’ll take you home with me,” he decided. Gently, he cupped his hands to pull the flower free—but it didn’t budge. Its roots, deep within the ice, held fast. Karl tried again, but it remained stubbornly in place.
Disappointed and hungry, the little boy picked up his toy car and made his way back indoors.
That evening, as the family gathered for dinner, his mother asked, “Karl, how was your walk today? You didn’t say anything when you came inside.”
Karl hesitated, then replied quietly, “I found a red flower growing in the ice.”
Everyone laughed. His father teased, “Poor flower, it must be freezing out there!” They chuckled, but Karl was stung. No one believed what he’d seen.
After dinner, the house quieted once more. The family went to bed, the next day would be the start of a new week—school would resume.
Morning came. Karl’s mother called up the stairs, “Karl, time to get up for school!”
No answer. She climbed to his room.
Karl was not in the room…
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