Daughter of Destinies
Empowered
“Marissa, I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’d like to have a word with you.”
I looked up from the essay I had barely begun as High Priestess Nyomi Bettencourt sat across from me.
Tragedy’s Mine
The Hardwige Mine had been abandoned for over fifty years.
It sat two leagues from Dowling, its tangled network of shafts and tunnels stretching deep beneath the earth. No one had dared set foot inside for decades.
No one sane, anyway.
The Lady Grace
Ghost ships were not rare in the Kingdom of Malakanth.
But The Lady Grace? She was different.
She was not just a fleeting specter on the waves. She was legendary: a three-masted clipper of Listran design, doomed to haunt the waters off Indamar’s northern coast for over two hundred years.
The Passion of Lidya Bonifay
Wind.
For those proficient in witchcraft, the shifting torrents of air that swept across the Kingdom of Malakanth were more than mere weather—they were tools. From the wildest grassland tempest to the gentlest shoreline breeze, each gust and gale carried a story.
Motherless
Motherless
Some say there is no bond stronger than the one between mother and child.
Who do we run to first when we have something to share? Mom.
Who wraps us in their arms when we stumble, whether from a scraped knee or something far worse? Mom.
But not all of us are so lucky.
Today, I Found You
Books.
Back on the Isle of Indamar, some who knew me liked to say I lived to be rebellious. They weren’t wrong.
Others swore I lived for boys. Also not wrong.
Miss Margaret would’ve bet her best apron I lived for her cookies, harvest muffins, and sweet apple muse.
But here’s the truth: above all, I lived for books. Bottom line.
That Angel Myceen
Demons.
Witches like me spend a great deal of time dealing with them.
Yes, those demons. The ones who were once angels.