A Self-Study Within A Broken Mind

“The ancient Malorians had systems in place to transport water through these stone-carved chutes,” Moira said. She stood next to a giant stone, broken off from others nearby. “Back when water was plentiful.” “Why did the water disappear?” Anton asked, walking away from her into the open wasteland. The sun was coming up over the horizon, soon to blaze hot in the sky. “We should get going.” Moira looked over to find the sun rising, then jumped into his eyeline. “Remember what I told you,” she said. “Don’t look directly at the sun. You can hurt your eyes. People used to have ways of preventing damage once, even fixing people’s eyes to see again. It was a prosperous time.” “Posper-nouse?” “Prosperous,” Moira corrected. “It means a time with a lot of good things happening, when people could enjoy themselves.” Anton kicked a rock on the ground, hitting the remains of the carved stone chute. The only thing that remained now were these old things, as they crumbled to sand. “Are there any magic...

All my touting of trust over Moredo, and I had not been back in months. I was afraid of what I would find. If I trusted Fyntn, I would have gone back the next day. Meanwhile, I entertained myself with a story of a girl in a world ruined by the past, dreaming. I came back the morning of a Wednesday, after being woken up at five in the morning by someone calling out my name. It had to be a dream, someone from the library I left behind. I could not foretell what to expect now, but I would most definitely not be in female form. I just hoped Tarne was back to her previous self. I stepped into the untethered space, or my tether of reality core to the library. It looked just like when I left it, except for the darkness beyond the windows again. I partially missed the gray. The library itself was empty, almost heartrendingly so. What if, in my time away, the Rahin actually came for Lila and Tarne? “Hello?” I called out, realizing my voice was male. I created a full body mirror right away and f...

(27k, loosely edited) “…for dark magic tends to save the world more often than the pure kind.” -some old wizard The nails she wore drew me to her first. They were a midnight shade of purple, rimmed with gold, each sporting three small daggers, star-like, gradient of gold to the midnight purple. They entranced me, enticed me, and inhaled my existence. In the end, those nails were the ones who brought me to my supposed life. I wasn’t alive, but not quite dead either. “Half-lifer,” she called me, her crimson lipstick so close to my eyes. “Best come with me.” This isn’t my story. I’m dead. Well, not yet. I’ve died, and she brought me back, but not to life. I can talk, walk, sleep, and pretend I’m human. I don’t decompose, but have no heartbeat. With one foot in the grave, I’m frozen between life and death. I now serve her, Deresanzi, the Queen of Half-life.” “Stop calling me a Queen,” she said. “I’m just another Half-lifer like you. You’re only here because Salzy wanted to bring you ba...