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Literature
Fleeting Moments
The shadows of nostalgia loom large, A grand illusion that beckons us To wander down memory's winding path, To bask in the glow of days gone by. In the twilight of our minds, We are captivated by the allure Of a past more vibrant, more lustrous Than the dimmest truth ever witnessed. We lose ourselves in the haze of longing, In the sepia-toned reverie Of moments frozen in time, Gilded with the soft light of reminiscence. We cling to the fleeting whispers Of laughter, of love, of joy, As they float like petals on a gentle breeze, Drifting further and further from our grasp. But nostalgia is a trickster, A cunning siren leading us astray, Blurring the lines between what was And what we wish had been. We are seduced by the golden glow Of rose-tinted memories, Falling under the spell of a past That never truly existed. And yet, in the dance of shadows and light, There is a certain beauty, a certain truth That only nostalgia can reveal, A truth more tender, more profound. For in the
Literature
chase your fear out [PoTN]
Calix hadn’t exactly planned to do any of the festival’s activities, but they got bored of simply basking in the atmosphere rather quickly. They had paced about Surham, watching the stalls and grabbing themself a bite to eat from one that smelled heavily of spices. It was around then when they first heard others speaking of the Path of Courage. Well, that sounded promising. What was even more promising was when Calix made their way over and found the rickety sign attached to what, at first, appeared to be an old, dilapidated stand. Of course, when Calix stepped closer, the nails and the wood seemed far sturdier than any derelict building they’d come across in their life. The red sign at the top pointed toward the thick forest, a complete reversal from the farmland and hills of Surham. “Are you going in there?” Calix looked over their shoulder as the ladybug-like Niravar from the day before stepped closer, her eyes squinting as she said, “I thought you didn’t like fun.” “I was
Literature
Reincarnated as the Fallen Angel (Chp2)
Out of every single possibility, I was reincarnated into a fantasy world of magic, without magic. That is actually kind of infuriating. Actually, is there more to this world then. I can’t help but ask, “Are you certain?” Richo nods, “Of course.” “If I don’t have magic, then how come I can’t feel the cold, or could survive falling from the sky?” Lelia starts speaking, “Well, there is always the god of enchantment or the god of skills. One of them probably gave you their protection and-” “No.” Richo interjects, “He has no protections from any god. He does have some odd sounding skill, but nothing from the gods.” To quickly explain, Richo can see some sort of aura surrounding me. From there he just has to interpret and read it. Thanks to his protection and the training he has undergone, he is fairly accurate in reading them. I found out much later from Theresa, but at this time I was far more focused on what he was saying rather than how he could tell.” “The first one makes sense
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