《sad quotes :(》#121
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Maybe I'm better of alone
because no one has ever loved me
the way I love them
and I have never felt like anyone wants me
or needs me at all.
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- In Serial102 Chapters
Acacia Chronicle
Elena de L'Enfer is a Lich, an eternal, ancient and bloodless fiend. Once an elven teenager, she is an immortal sorcerer ascended from the invocation of dark magics from another era, by the blessing of gods long dead to the world. She is now, like many before her, a Vizier of the Eye in service to her enigmatic (and sometimes very whimsical) mistress, Nhaka Mezalune. It is the duty of a Vizier of the Eye to do battle against the enemies of the Empire, be they humans, elves, or eldritch horrors far beyond even the darkest fathoms of the gods. That by her hand, the world of Melodia and the Empire of Arcadia might endure.
8 228 - In Serial50 Chapters
Vylt: The New Dawn
Mankind finds a way to use magic, but this great power comes with a price. A transaction that can't be refunded. Nora Hayes is a simple girl whose only worry was graduating high school. That is, until she faces this new reality. How will she, her family, and her friends deal with the aftermath of such event? Currently revising all the existing chapters. New ones coming after that! _________________________________________________________________ Sneak Peek: Next to the kitchen, there was a small squared table and two wooden chairs, each made from different wood. The bookshelf behind those contained a decent amount of books. I stood up to take a closer look at them and even opened a few out of curiosity. While I could read most of them just fine, some of the oldest-looking books were written in a language I didn't recognize. "Hm? Was my hand always blue?" I didn't remember. In fact, I couldn't recall anything about myself, not even my name. Inspecting the rest of my body, I found that it was the same all over. I didn't feel sick; quite the opposite. Still, my blue skin felt out of place for some reason. Trying to find an answer to my situation, I kept investigating the odd room. _________________________________________________________________ Big thanks to Alice Griffin for helping me out with the cover.
8 307 - In Serial90 Chapters
Realistic Tower of God: The Martial Way
A man had given his all to walk on the treacherous martial way. He was once great, however, just like everything else in the world, he had reached the end of the rope and disappeared without being able to reach further on the the path. However, fate has something else in store for him. Suddenly waking up in the mysterious and grand tower, all of his fiber being will tested. Will he survive in this dangerous and unforgiving place with many ancient monsters reigning on the top? Will he manage to survive and find the next path of the martial way and fulfill his ambition? Only time will tell.
8 277 - In Serial19 Chapters
The Caves at Leired
One woman leads a band of witches across the continent in a violent revolution of magic.
8 100 - In Serial6 Chapters
Inheritance
Resources are unusually scarce. In the wake of grief, should one community exploit others in similar circumstances? Or should they bunker down and protect their own? Two brothers clash on these perspectives twenty years after the demise of modern civilization. This post-apocalyptic world is plagued by more than simple starvation, the grisly sounds from the other side of the walls are hungry too.
8 204 - In Serial7 Chapters
Toothpick
“Hello! My humble audience! I, the Bard of the North, am going to tell you a tale. Nothing new, nothing old. A story of a hero, some may say, others a poor boy who was hated by the world.” The storyteller paused as he waited, right timing was everything when telling a story. Pacing… Too slow and the audience became bored then left without tossing even the smallest of coins. If he spoke too fast and rushed the story. It would leave the audience confused and having no reason to be impressed. So like any good storyteller, the Bard has to do a balancing act of sorts. Not too slow, not too fast. Just perfectly in the middle. “In a shattered country in the south, a novice princeling has the ambition to mend a torn tapestry that is his birthplace. Struggling to fend off those who would usurp the throne in an unending civil war spanning centuries. A mercenary that left only death in his wake, unable to stave off the monotony and peace of life. He looks back at the path laden with bodies, wondering if it was all worth it. Wandering souls summoned by a madman, travel away from a wasteland in a foreign land, the first alone, the others as companions. A deity, ancient in her years, waiting to be freed from a duty she no longer enjoys. For all these people and their stories, none are the hero of this tale. No, the hero is not grand, not wise, not ready.. he was punished for nothing of his doing, who was an outcast that was unloved by many, including his father.” This was always the big reveal novices use to jump off into their story. He did not start here, instead, like any good fishermen, he set the bait and waited until the fish bit before pulling. As he saw the audience's eyes focus, he then started the backstory. The harness, that stopped the listeners from having metaphorical whiplash. The foreshadowing. “But that is not where the story starts. No, not even the hero's birth. Where the story begins, is the boredom of the deity, a deity many know of. She who hunts for the impossible, the guide for those who have lost the path, the Huntress of Mallon--” A small pause, a short breath. “--All old names for a single powerful being that has roamed the grounds of this continent longer than any line of kings or queens, lords or ladies. A being of worship for many an individual…” One last breath. And he began singing the first verse.
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