This is why I love to lose myself in the printed word. You woke something in me just now. A kind of breathless joy and excitement and anticipation. Thank you

I’m also not the only person who commented this. It’s a fair critique. No one is tearing you up. Everyone here is saying it’s well written. But there is important dialogue between the grandmother and Anders and it would be helpful, especially for a mobile user like me, to have seen that in your afternote, and would have been less inconvenient for you, than the reader.

The warmth is the first thing you notice. It feels like that moment when you go outside on the first warm day of spring after a long winter. The sun hits your skin just right, burning off the months of darkness and cold. Usually, you only get to feel it in your hands, your arms, and your face; but this is a whole body experience. You can feel it in your chest, your stomach, your back… Everywhere.

Instead of burning off months of darkness and cold, it burns off years of sadness and hurt. Our bodies carry our experiences. The good feel light, transient. The bad are heavy and solid. As we age our bodies get dragged down, sagging and drooping under all of things in our lives that didn’t go according to plan. All of the moments of shame and pain.

In death those things no longer matter. They are nothing more than superfluous weight that kept us grounding in life. The hardships in life are what make the victories that much sweater. They are what drive us forward. No one will remember our broken bones, our darkest thoughts, or our most shameful moments when we die. They will remember the good times they had with us. The secret smiles, the drunken guffaws, and the stolen kisses.

As we leave this mortal plan behind we take the good with us, because that is what matters. The goodness we bring to the world leaves a light and warmth for those that come after, or for ourselves when we come back. We are born from that energy, that positivity. We do not know pain when we are born, or fear, or want, or need. We are born of positive things, because we cannot bring the negative with us from our past life. It is too heavy. To unimportant. We are born light and only add the heaviness of life to keep us grounded so that we can recognize and appreciate the good when it comes.

Especially when you are fighting something with no reach that can instant kill (well, turn you into them, but same thing)

No

Huh????

...why?

You don't wanna know

Actually i do

No you don't,and I'm not doing this again

Again,this has happened before?

Yeah, generally most people can make compound wishes that only use one wish but leaves the other 2 intact,and then they try to free me,and then they die

That a bit of a jump in logic don't you think?

I'm not gonna explain wish magic to someone who's gonna die after asking for it anyway

I'm starting to think you don't wanna be free

It's more like im tired of trying to

Sound like you gave up

Partially

Explain to me why

Because you need at least a hundred wishes to free me

...but i only get three ,besides nobody would waste a hundred wishes just to seal one genie

Well they did

Who is they

They are "incoherent noises"

I didn't hear, it just sound like static tv noise

Then the seal is still active

The seal on what? Information?

Yup, generally most seals are applied to rock or metal, but the ones on me and on the information about my seal are blocked behind a wish, bound on immortal flesh, destroyed if said immortal is killed or if the wish is made do undo such seal, but since even information on the immortal is also sealed by a wish,it's hard to know who it is, repeat this a few times and there we go, a hundred wishes required to break the seal

Why go through so much effort to seal you in a existence that is little more than a torture chamber for god know how long for

Because the last time the seal had a thousand wishes to get through

💙

"Do i belive in a life after death?" i quietly asked myself in a low whisper.the question was live in my mind because i had resently been told my life was going to end.

"Well it's easier on myself and others to say that, yes there is". That was the first anwser that came to mind and a correct one "But do i belive that? Do i want to?" "How would it even work, is it my soul that goes to the afterlife? Am i my soul? Or is that just a battery for my mind to simulate me"

These kinds of thougths had occationaly been at the forefront of my mind when out and about. Taking up mindspace and paying rent with dread. And again i came to the same conclution i always did.

"Does it matter, and if not, why not?" It's was quite hard not to think about these things now. Given the figurative hourglass of life i had been shown.

"We have so many ideas of how things are after death. It would be impossible for only one of them to be right, all the ideas of the afterlife was made for the purpose of reasurance and to help with grief" I was rather selfaware of the pessimistic view I was looking at, but i couldn't really help it, given my current situation: Which was on a hospital bed, feeling a sad mix of awefull and dreadfull.

"But yes, it does matter, atleast to me because it really only does good, thinking positive an' all that" I said, anwsering my own question from before.
Then a magical little voice appeared, which didn't matter in most cases as that was just a name i had given my intrusive secondthoughts, I think.

"But you have never been one for choises, and knowing some science, it's irritating to make compromises in understaning if you have to try and fit religion in to it." it chided in my mind "allways go for the 'all of the above' option if there is one i've allways said, and besides. Most fun things happen if thats done!" came the continuation

"You know what..."I said to my thougths "For once i agree" I agreed "But how would i chose that option" I asked even though i already knew the anwser because, well, it's hard to not have general knowledge of you own thoughts. And anyways, I liked going through a good heap of logic anytime, even on my deathbed apparently.

My thoughts agreeing with my decision started explaining "So we know of that good ol' multiverse theory, with all the things about how the timeline splits whenever an outcome of a purely random event is decided. That way, a singular quantum scale events can have impacts on a macroscale" it began
"So every single quantum event that happens and has ever has happened made more 'timelines' (to chose a word) (Fun trick that, thinking in bracktes). And that was since the big bang. We are also quite sure that the fundamental forces were created therein. Which means that there are 'timelines' that are effectively parrallel universes from popular fiction. In that everything in the universe is enterly different from ours."

"Now. Most quantum events are not a binary system, with only two outcomes, it's the opposite really. Measuring a particle is a quantum event with an infinite continum of outcomes, and just before, we said the timeline splits after a quantum decision, and if there are infnite outcomes then there must be infnite timelines. And in the case of the bigbang, infinite multiverses, all of them different."

"Anyway so what i am trying to say is. That there is room all of it. Any fantasy and belief, any religion and their afterlives and current ones for that matter. And even if the soul doesn't exisist here: Then because there is room for it, your 'soul' must exsist somewhere if nessesary. Infact, you'd have infintly many 'souls', because if you have infinite room, there is always room for more. What im getting at is: You can think what you want and live what you want to, because you are going to do it anyways" my thoughts finnished off.

"Now thats all good and dandy and many other apriciative words. But i would like to be omewhat sure i get something good or atleast fair, but that doesn't seem possible" i gave as a comment to the tirade my thoughts ran me through.

The magical little voice came back with: "Well i have a feeling that that isn't going to matter anymore because, if you take your time to stop ignoring what im not, then you would notice that our suroundings have changed. And i think this isn't our hospital room."

"Thank you, but that wasn't needed" I said as i got out of my bed trying not to think too hard about how i was even able to do that and how i ended up *here* (even though i knew how it still wasn't nice to think about).
I stepped onto the "grass" (because any other word for ground vegitation was more wrong than grass) And made my way a little ways a way and said to myself/my magical little voice: "i have a feeling that our conversations are goin to be a bit of a theme in the... future. If that's what it is in this place", Hessitating because i had a suspicion, then mumbeling under my breath as i began walking away from where my bed had been a few... a little while, ago. "I really hope i don't have to learn a new 'time'. the one Einstein described was weird enough, and space too"

and so a new adventure had a starting place, and it too had an ending, in infinitely many ways, to infinitly many more beginings and endings, never and forever...

Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.

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I mean I could have, but you also have the option to explore. Or not.

I didn’t mean during the story- I meant when you responded afterward with “thank you for reading”. You could have added the translations then

After years of pondering, after years of trying everything, this scroll was left with my egg and might contain the answers I've been looking for. As a dragon I'm bound to a human form until I reach maturity for my species. My parents aren't my biological ones and have raised me from my tyrant days, from the days I learned magic, and what dragon families jokingly call the darker times. I sat there dumbfounded by this piece of paper with a wax seal, that my foster mother swears up and down that niether her, an Orc who has lifted a car to find me, nor my foster father, an elf sorcerer who has studied magic for his entire life, can open.

My hands trembled as I reached for it, as this would have the answers I've been looking for.

"Go on... Open it." Bel my foster mother impatiently let out, as Korzair, her husband pressed a finger to her lips.

"Relax dear, this is intense for him as it is for us." He let out and then placed a hand on my shoulder, "Take all the time you need Tyrion, and no matter what that scroll says we are always proud of you."

My hands still shaking as their words didn't calm my nerves as I used my fingernail to remove the seal, as a faint glimmer of magic was given off, as it accepted my touch. With a moment I looked at the seal as it melted into nothing. My heart was racing as I began to uncurl the scroll as it was written in a text I didn't recognize as it didn't make any sense, it wasn't draconic, as both my foster father and I would have been able to read it. It wasn't orcish, elven, dwarven, or any of the other languages I learned in effort to prove my maturity to the seal. Spreading the scroll over the paper we all collectively sighed as we all tried to figure it out.

"Well Thanks Mom and Dad... it is a big bust, but I'm glad you were there for me..." I stated as my shaky hands began to calm down as Bel pulled me into her arms and then in an instant I felt a sharp pain in my arm, as Bel poked me with a small dagger and then splattered my blood onto the scroll.

"What the hell-"
Before words left my lips the scroll began to glow and my mother looked as confused about the knife in her hand and what she had done. The room filled with a white light until I couldn't see anything anymore and there was just me standing in a white void.

".... I see.... How well you have grown..." an ominous voice echoed out. As I opened my lips to speak.

'Not enough time.... young one... listen to my words... feel my magic..." I blindly did as it told me, as a warmth began to fill my very being. It was like the first time you feel the caffeine high, my heart raced, and my body began to shake.

"... Both your blood parents... loved you intensely... that it broke their hearts to give you up... it will warm their spirits to see how fine of a dragon you are to become... They have passed on... but the one's they left you with, are true friends of your parents... Bel's strong heart, and Korzair's Wisdom made suitable fosters for being fit to bear our name.. Go... you have done well young one... make our family proud..."

With a sudden jolt, I found myself with a new understanding of the world, Bel already has wrapped my arm in enough gauze to make a mummy envious, and Korzair's fingers on my neck making sure I had a pulse.

"I'm fine... don't worry..." I slowly peel myself from the floor as both parents were helping me up, "Did you guys see anything?" They both look at me puzzled and then I move towards the backdoor of the house.

"I have my answers... I'm going to break the seal now..." I opened the door and began to move to the middle of the yard as I knew how big my other self was going to be. My parents stared at me as Bel held onto my father as I began to channel the new power within me. A seal appeared beneath my feet and with one push it shattered and turned into dust which blew away by the magic I was channeling. It was painless but I felt odd, like being stretched, and flexed against my own will. My spell was pushing me onto all fours, my fingers felt wider, my finger nails thicker, my body weight I felt bloated at first, as the mass I was gaining was foreign.

My clothes disappeared into my form, as if tucked away for future keeping, as I felt new appendages form, large majestic wings, a long tail, and horns adorned my reforming skull. Scales replaced my pinkish flesh, as the color was unknown to me, as I could only feel, not see, my eyes almost sealed shut during the process, which in retrospect may have been for the best. Within a few minutes I slumped onto the grass as I could feel the fence behind me against my new tail, and my face not touching the deck so at least I didn't hit the house. I slowly got up, as I ached over the new me, almost like a newborn deer struggling to it's feet.

With a few blinks I was able to see both my foster parents staring in awe at me as Bel ran inside to grab something and returned with a large mirror and with a bit of focus I started to see my true form. White and Gold scales adorned my form, along with my eyes taking on a golden color but still with a black pupils, I did look a bit gaudy, but this is who I was meant to be. I did slowly circle around to get a good look at everything and then reverted back to my human self and ran to my foster parents and hugged them.

I sobbed into their arms uncontrollably as my parents were their best friends, both my biological parents had wanted a child so badly, to have it be their downfall. Biological Father died in combat, fleeing his homeland to ensure that my mother was able to make it here, she then died leaving me here, to go and find him. Mated for life, not wanting to live without the other and only one egg out of their clutch. It was a rather somber night as we all just sat in silence all saddened by the past and I both terrified and excited about my future.

Being the true heir of my father's homeland and being a descendant of the most revered dragon, being a Holy Dragon I have some mighty shoes to fill and my father's issues to resolve.

The first thing that struck him was the lack of it. The incessant beeping of that damned heart monitor had finally stopped. He cracked open his eyes, only to find himself in a rather unfamiliar place.

No bright white hospital lights.

No blue medical curtains.

No more tubes inserted uncomfortably in his nose.

No more bindings restraining him to the bed.

No more excruciating pains in his ribs.

He took a deep breath; The first so clear and clean in... years. Had it been that long? Pushing himself into a sitting position, he realised the thing he would miss the most.

Gazing at his empty palm, he clasped his hands together. The missing warmth. He would miss it dearly.

But it was behind him now.

As he stood up, three portals opened before him. Startled, he peered into each one.

First, through the purple portal, was a great wooded forest, filled with towering evergreens, with a great alpine mountain in the background. As he angled his head to see more, the shadow of a great dragon crossed the mountain, as a great roar pervaded the forest, rustling twigs and leaves off the trees.

Second, through the green portal, lay a silvered city of colossal steel skyscrapers. Flying cars zoomed from building to building in a flawless efficiency, as robotic assistants helped along a human family picking fresh leaves from a tea tree.

In awe, he finally, hesitantly, walked up over to the third portal. Through its yellow frame was... Home. The familiar smells of the wooden bedframe. The wafting fragrance of fresh and clean bedsheets, permeated all with a mother's love. The familar scene outside the window, the one he had spent hours and hours staring at, analysing every single detail as he procrastinated or daydreamed.

Pondering over the possibilities, who knew what world he could potentially find himself stuck in.

Perhaps, perhaps he would know which one he chose.

Maybe, just maybe, he would be able to choose again.

As he took that last, familiar step in...

He already knew he made the right choice.

Isn't this from traditional Chinese folklore? After death the soul would go to the underworld to be judged. For those reincarnating they'll have to drink a soup made by an elderly lady (孟婆汤) to wipe their memories clean.

WHO MAKES THE LAW?

Clara woke up from her bed with a splitting migraine.

For five solid days, there was nothing but the clanging echoes of metal yelling out from John Humphrey’s barn.

A constant chorus of,

CLANG-CLANG

CLANG-CLANG

CLANG-CLANG

Well, Mrs. Humphrey had enough of it.

“John!” She shrills. “John, that’s enough!” Running into his shop with wild arms waving.

“I can’t take it anymore!!” She cupped hands over her ears, elbows out.

John’s lips move with no sound. The proud have forged a lie against me

John continues to work.

CLANG-CLANG

Clara steps towards the workbench and yells, “I’ve sent for Sheriff Carson to lock you away for disturbance of the peace!”

Their heart is as fat as grease; but I delight in thy law.

CLANG-CLANG

Clara slaps him hard across the cheek, “WHY AREN’T YOU LISTENING TO ME!?”

It is good for me that I have been afflicted; that I might learn thy statutes.

CLANG-CLANG

She’s had enough. Clara forcibly grabs John by the wrist to stop the banging, and a struggle begins. Fighting for control. Of the hammer, yes, but its not just about the hammer. They’ve been having spats for months now. The bruises and scratches on John’s body confirm it.

“JOHN! JOHN, LET GO!!”

Suddenly, Sherriff Carson bursts through the entryway of the barn, sliding on his boots and holding onto his Stetson. “What’s with all this commotion!”

John releases his grip on the hammer, “So glad you could make it, Sherriff.” John notes the Sherriff’s trousers and belt are undone and his shirt not entirely tucked in. “Boy, you sure did get here fast.”

The wicked have waited for me to destroy me: but I will consider thy testimonies.

The Sherriff with twang, “Law declares I need bring you in for assault against your wife and for disorderly conduct.”

“The law!?” John eye-rolls, “Whose Law? There is no law in the West! The ‘law’ that you, man, have created, is not GOD’S LAW. Your law is merely the consensus whim of the citizens, blown in today, and will be gone like a tumbleweed tomorrow.”

Depart from me, ye evildoers: for I will keep the commandments of my God.

“I made this specially for you.” John pats a steel-plated revolver at his waist, with the Sixth Commandment carved into the handle. And two bullets loaded into the chamber—one for each of them.

“Now, John.” Sherriff thrusts one palm straight out and the other goes to his own holster. “Think about this.”

Psalms 119.

Both men ready to fire. Both ready to enforce their law.

But Clara, quietly now behind John and with the hammer, brings the metal tool down onto John Humphrey’s skull with full force.

CLANG-CLANG

John’s body slumps onto the two large metal slabs that was his project for the past week. A statuesque Ten Commandments etched into iron and ready for display outside the Nevada County courthouse.

Because it ruins the tension, as well as the meaning. Our narrator also doesn't understand the language.

If you wish there are places you can translate freely available online.

I remember when I first made that godforsaken contract. It was in the middle of a cold, winter night, we were surrounded by bones and ash. She was running from Bilgewater, cloak blowing furiously in the wind. It would've been good for one of my paintings, if I had a canvas. A flurry of torches ran after her, straight to my cave. She ran towards my dark lair, not aware that I was there, watching her. The woman ran into me, her eyes turning from fear to outright horror. I covered the entrance of the cave with my wing, as she ran to escape. She shrieked. "Shush, you're not in danger." I scooped her up in my paw as the mob threw torches and shot at my wing from the outside. I moved further into the cave, letting the crowd in. The few unlucky souls who decided to venture further were met with a very toasty express ticket to hell. "Dragon! Retreat!" Fire started to spread to the dry grass as they threw their torches and ran. "Well, I guess you're stuck here for now." I whispered, as the inferno outside engulfed the entrance...

It would definitely be an interesting tale of two adventurers, one a regular human, one the personification of a wide, raging river.

Ever since the Artifact showed up, the majority of the Soviet Union is now a feral wasteland full of anomalous reality bending monsters. Twenty years later, the few remaining Soviet citizens that were lucky enough to survive wave after wave of attacks decide to take a final stand. Besides they have now gained monsters of their own.

Beautiful

Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.

Reminders:

>* No AI-generated reponses 🤖 >* Stories 100 words+. Poems 30+ but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* [RF] and [SP] for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

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The revolution had begun with nonviolent trickery and the secret taking of power. But now troops showed up to raze their towns. It's time to fight back with science and magic.

Nice one!

Thanks! The unscramble is A PROMISE NEVER DELIVERED

Awesome story. I feel kinda stupid though, I thought the last line was Latin and Google translate says no.

That was amazingly good. And I don't say it lightly. Been reading fantasy and scify for over three decades and it was something that was fresh and damn well written.

For some reason it reminds me a bit of Willam Kings book Death's Angels with a bit of Joe Abercombie's Blade Itself mixed in although admittedly neither of these books was about river spirits. I suppose it's the emotion of reading this that reminds me of these books.