Thank you so much! That’s helpful! And if u get a second I’d appreciate u checking out my story posted after this

To think that I once feared this day. When the prophecy came to me that I would be usurped, I knew I could not allow that to come to pass. I hired as many soothsayers and magicians as I could to find out if I could avoid my fate and, alas, it appeared that the more I would fight my fate, the worse the ending may become. That I, the great Tyrant-king Alavast the Bloody, would loose my throne, one way or another. Then I silenced them; the dead can’t speak, and I would prefer the word of this prophecy not get about, and start another pointless rebellion.

So, in the grip of fate, I accepted my end by hurrying it along as best I could, in hopes that my death, my end of reign. would be less extreme. Many in my kingdom would prefer that, to see me fall in the most grisly fashion, but I refused to grant that wish.

Instead, I sought out the peasant boy fated to bring my downfall. There he was, wailing in a ditch, next to his deceased parents. As tempted as I was to drive my sword through him, tempting fate in that matter wasn’t in my best interests. No, instead I scooped up the pathetic, fragile thing, and whisked him home to my palace. I intended to raise him as my own heir, to teach him how to rule as I did, with an iron fist and no mercy for those who knew not their place.

I was such a fool.

I had never found myself so vulnerable as the first time he called me father. I taught him of control and power, while he taught me warmth and joy. Whilst I am what I am, draining the populace through taxes, and crushing any who resisted, the insides of these cold halls shone with a never before seen warmth. I taught him well, even in ways I had not intended, and when he- a strapping young man- pulled his sword from my chest to take my place, I wiped his tears with a shaking hand to tell him how proud I was of him. He would rule nothing like I would, the people already cheering behind him.

But perhaps that would not be a bad thing.

When I signed up to become a Monster Hunter, I knew and believed in the code enforced by the Guild... Hunters pay to go on our hunts, we hunt monsters that are causing problems, to keep their populations controlled, and to keep the rest of the environment healthy....so when I found out that some Hunters were disrespecting that code...I vowed to weed them out and put a quick stop to them...it doesn't matter if it's out of greed, fear, or revenge...Our way of life being in harmony with these giant majestic creatures by proving our selfs against them until we meet the "One" that's our match...that is worth more than than your selfish crusade...you all have been warned.

Hi Tysm I actually have a story as my most recent post it’d mean a lot if u check it out! And that’s great advice

I held the letter. Yup. That was my name. First and middle. Not last, though. Odd.

I stepped away from the rest of my class, clamoring around to see the oddities that where placed in the capsule. I had been just as excited as them, but now I was consumed with a different curiosity. I leaned against a tree as I began reading the letter.

To my future daughter,

I don't know what your life is going to be. I don't even know if they'll allow you to keep the same name. But please know, please understand, that you are loved. Even now I'm not sure I will be able to let you go.

I want you to know that only reason I'm giving you up is because I can't give you the life you deserve. I'm in high school, single, and unemployed. I won't be able to give you a roof over your head, regular meals, or anything you're going to need. The agency has assured me that you'll be placed with a good family. A strong family. A loving couple who desperately want a child to love.

You may never forgive me. And that's okay. There's nothing wrong with thinking that way. But I hope that one day, when you're an adult, we'll be able to talk. I hope that your childhood is filled with love and laughter, and that you never have to wonder where your next meal is coming from, or if you're going to have a home when you get out of school. May your life be nothing like mine.

I frown. One, I'm not adopted. And two, this time capsule is 100 years old. No way was this letter meant for me--but that was clearly my name on the envelope.

When I got home from school I showed my mom the letter. She got an odd, sad smile and sat with me on the couch. She took the letter from me and read it. "This is from your grandmother," she said softly. "My adoptive family tried to let me keep the name she gave me, but her parents--well, her parents were not good people. So my name had to be changed, and we moved away."

I thought about that. We'd lived in this town my whole life. "When did you come back?"

"After I graduated college. I came to see how my birth mother was doing. My parents never lied to me about being adopted, you see, and they'd told me that my birth mother had loved me very much and had wanted only the best for me."

I frowned. "But--I've never met your mother."

"No." Her voice was sad, quiet. "You haven't."

I in frustration at the sign that greets us in the lobby.

"No internet. That's it. Another day, another chance slips away."

"Did you know that the card catalog was once the key to the library's collection?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about." My mother is always making references I don't understand. I gaze over the rows of silent terminals feeling desperate.

"I don't have time for this," I mutter, turning to go back to the van that is currently doubling as our home.

"Are you giving up?"

Am I giving up? Well I have applied for forty-seven jobs using those terminals. I've gotten sixteen 'thanks for applying but...' emails. Nobody else bothered to even send a 'no thanks' email. Not having a diploma has locked me out of most of the opportunities that might put a roof over our heads. And now the information I need is hidden.

"Are you aware that they still put information in print books?"

"Not the information we need."

"How do you know?"

My mother hobbles toward a desk marked "Reference" where a man is sitting.

Waiting tables became impossible as the disease that will eventually put her in a wheelchair began to limit movement. She lost her job. We got evicted right after school let out for summer. In a year I'll graduate and things will be better.

Our van is pretty comfortable unless it's really hot or really cold. It's a sunny summer day outside. The library is deserted because most people left as soon as they noticed the internet is down. The air conditioning is nice, though and we'll probably stay through the hottest part of the day. We come to the library and use the computers and read books and magazines because it's clean and safer than sitting in our van all day. The park is nice too, sometimes. It's weird being homeless but we are figuring it out and telling ourselves it's temporary until one or both of us gets a job.

"Excuse, me can you help us find some information?"

The man looks up and smiles, "I would love to help you."

"Jessie, would you explain what we need to know?"

I walk up the desk. This is a new experience for me. We use the library computers almost every day but I've never actually talked to a librarian or checked out a book. I don't think they give out cards to people who don't have permanent addresses.

"I have a job interview and I need to find out as much as I can about the company and the person who is interviewing me. I have to corporate address but I want to drive over and look at the warehouse where I'll be working."

I don't say because my mom will be parked in the van and I need to know if the area is shady.

"Of course. There is a directory of small businesses in the reference stacks. You can't check it out but you can use it here."

"How will we find it without a card catalog?"

The man's eyes light up, "Speaking my language."

"Not mine," I mutter.

"Honestly, I've been here so long I know where everything is. The Dewey Decimal system is in my head. The local business directories are in 381 with business and commerce."

"How long have you been here?" Mom asks.

"35 years. We had a card catalog and a computerized catalog when I started."

"Here," he hands me a book, "Businesses are listed alphabetically with current information about leadership, revenue, etc. along with the physical addresses. You might want to read up."

"My future might depend on this. Thank you so much."

My mom points at a line she found in another book she found on the shelves

I look over her shoulder and read, "Everything you need for a better future and success has already been written."

"Do you think that's true?" Mom asks.

I shrug. Mom with her weird questions. I don't know if she's bored or her disease is affecting her mind, but lately she's been so freaking philosophical.

"I think that's a very limited perspective because new information is always being added to knowledge that already exists. That's why I love working in the library," the librarian answers.

My mother smiles, "I think it would be wonderful to work in a library."

"We are hiring at the circulation desk right now."

"Oh I don't have a degree or anything. I just need a job where I can sit now."

I sit down at a table and type the address into my phone. I read through the entry and notice the name of the HR person who called me to interview. I try to figure out if my supervisor's name is in there. It might look good when I go into the interview if I know this stuff. I take notes about the earnings and look at a big chart showing who is who's boss. I realize I will look like an idiot if I mention it but don't know what it's called.

My mom and the librarian are deep in conversation.

"Excuse me, what's this chart called?"

He looks at it, "Organizational chart. Good strategy if you are going for a job interview."

I nod. After a few more notes I feel ready to go. The librarian is at the copier when I return to the desk,

"I make a copy of the most frequently asked job interview questions so you can practice your answers. It's a good idea to think about what you are going to say before you go into the interview."

"Wow. Above and beyond. I had no idea librarians knew all this." I say

"Their skills are probably very underestimated and largely underemployed," he replies, "Especially since so much is online and available without consulting a librarian. But we are trained to sift through information and make evaluations. I love it when someone lets me help."

He hands another copy of the questions to my mom, "I hope you'll consider applying. I think you have a very good chance. I also think you should consider these options. I think you are entitled to some help based on what you've told me." He hands her another list.

As we walk to the van my mom and I are quiet. I feel more hopeful than I have in months. My mother is smiling. I don't remember the last time I saw her smile like that. Hopeful.

"I'm glad the internet was down," I say as we head over to the warehouse to consider the parking possibilities. " That librarian was amazing. And mom, I think he likes you."

She smiles again, "Do you think so?"

[removed]

Call it "The Temporal Timepiece"

Part 2 perchance?

[removed]

Thanks for the comment. I made the suggested changes to the words. I changed Caldwell's apology since it was too abrupt. I'm glad you enjoyed the story.

##Library of Caligula

The stone doors which have held for thousands of years are blown open by a small stick of dynamite. The silent atmosphere that the scrolls grew to love is destroyed. Light pierces the darkness as three men enter the room with gas lamps.

“Unbelievable, I can’t believe you were right.” Lionel admires a nearby statue of a horse. “I never heard of the Library of Caligula when I met you.”

“You aren’t alone.” Otis is fiercely taking notes. “I was laughed out of the academic community for proposing such a thing. They laughed harder when I said it was in the Faroe Islands.”

“But what is here exactly?” Elmer asks. Stacks of scrolls stretch for three-hundred meters. The stacks are divided by a walkway in the middle with gold trimmings and tables spaced between five stacks. The stacks are four shelves high and ten shelves deep. Each shelf contains twenty scrolls.

“Let’s see.” Lionel grabs a scroll and opens it on the table. Nick walks next to him. His mouth opens.

“Unbelievable. This is an early description of a steam engine,” Nick says.

“And how do you know that?” Elmer puts his hands on his hips.

“I worked as a mechanic. Being regarded as a fraud doesn’t pay the bills.”

“Nonsense.” Lionel slaps Nick’s shoulder. “Frauds are the basis of our society. Their skills are probably very underestimated and largely underemployed.”

“Uh, thanks.” Nick pauses to process the back-handed compliment.

“If the Romans knew how to make a steam engine, why didn’t they do it?”

“That’s outside my expertise. The academic community largely accepts that such a device was discussed theoretically at the time, but-”

“Ah, so you’re saying it’s not shocking. Let’s see what else is here.” Lionel grabs another scroll and opens it. All three of them are shocked by what’s on the page.

“Is that really a car?” Elmer asks.

“It would appear to be the body of one.” Nick puts his paper down.

“That’s the engine of one.” Lionel points in the corner.

“There’s no way this would’ve been known in Caligula’s time,” Nick says.

“Well, I suppose everything you need for a better future and success has already been written.” Lionel walks away from the table. “Let’s see what else we can find here.”

The three men walk throughout the collection with their lamps in hand. Throughout the shelves, they find inventions that had only recently been invented such as radio and airplanes. Devices from the future are also present such as a phone that lacks a chord and a small movie player. Other scrolls contain maps of the world with borders throughout history. One lists the family tree of the Hapsburg family up to Archduke Franz Ferdinand with a note on his assassination.

“Why is all this modern knowledge in an ancient library?” Elmer puts down a scroll on the War of Spanish Succession.

“I don’t know. None of this makes sense,” Nick replies.

“Is this a prank?” Lionel pulls out a knife and stabs the shelf by Nick.

“What?” “Did you and your university pals just want to humiliate this old treasure hunter?” Lionel removes the knife and stomps towards Nick.

“There has to be an explanation.” Nick pulls out a scroll. A loud scraping noise echoes throughout the building. The three men leave the stack. At the end of the walkway, a silver orb sits in an alcove.

“Now what is that?” Elmer asks.

“It’s the Orb of Germanicus. They dismissed me as a fraud for that too.” Nick falls to the floor laughing.

“Now what’s gotten into you?” Elmer shakes his head.

“I theorized that Germanicus found it in Belgica and gave it to his son. Caligula’s so-called insanity was the result of that orb,” Nick says.

“That’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said.” Lionel replies.

“Come on. Haven’t you noticed that Elmer is only speaking in questions?” Elmer asks.

“He’s always been inquisitive. This is crossing the line into the unrealistic.” Lionel kicks Nick’s laughing body. “And stop giggling you twit.”

“I can’t stop. Everything is so funny. Like the shut doors.” At that statement, Lionel looks up. The doors that they destroyed have returned; the rubble has cleared. Snow is no longer infiltrating the library.

“No, it can’t be.” Lionel runs to the doors and pushes.

“They’re locked. Caligula knew how powerful this knowledge would be and ensured that it could never be exposed to the outside world,” Nick says.

“And how do you know that?” Elmer asks. Nick holds out the scroll he took. Three men are drawn in the library. Underneath the drawing is one word. Mortuus.

r/AstroRideWrites

Man, I've been there. Just trick her into getting on the bed and she'll be out cold. Trust me, nothing makes sense when you're on a energy drink binge.

“No…”

My voice became a whisper as my daughters eyes locked with mine, the pressure of her blade sinking deep into my sternum. Tears fell, glistening like diamonds between our gaze. Magic swirled under our feet as my spirit dimmed, the prophecy had been true. Despite my unconditional love for her…she still chose to take my life. But the sheer sorrow staring back at me, the soul torn asunder gave me a sense of peace. A trust that she did this because she had to. And that I taught her well enough to make the right decision…no matter what that may be.

She held me as I died.

[removed]

Yes! Some of the most fun responses I've ever done have been typo ones.

I always feel a little guilty harping on so much about a typo, but the prompters seem to take it in good humour and you get to write some really unusual things.

The Child of Destiny will be born under the light of the falling star. None shall be able to slay him, for Fate shall watch over his destiny and keep him whole, and when he grows up, he will overthrow the Golden King.

Vizier Haran pondered this baleful prophecy concerning the foretold end of his monarch's reign, as he watched the king's heir gallop across the field below on his purebred white destrier.

"You look thoughtful, Haran." the King Draymond said, idly. "What's on your mind?"

Haran cleared his throat. "Sire, it is just that...well, you know the ah...traitorous so-called prophecy concerning you?"

King Draymond chortled, waving his hand dismissively as he took a sip of wine from his golden goblet. "Come come, Haran. We have to execute anyone who repeats it in public, for appearance's sake, but you don't need to toe the party line in private. You know the prophecy is true as well as I do -- the pronouncements of the Silver Oracle have never been wrong."

Haran shuffled uncomfortably. "As you say, sire. But...your majesty, I cannot understand why, rather than exiling him somewhere, you chose to adopt the Child of Destiny. And naming him your heir, no less! Surely your majesty is inviting the fulfillment of the prophecy, by doing so?"

King Draymond smiled, slyly. "Am I? Tell me, Haran, do you know what happened to my father?"

Haran paused. "It is said he fell from the tower of your family's keep when--"

Draymond rolled his eyes. "Yes, that's what we said, but obviously I killed him. He was constantly ordering me around, I was sick of waiting to be able to make my own decisions, so I pushed him off the tower."

"Most...er...decisive of you, sire." Haran said, diplomatically. He knew for whom he worked, of course, but even he was surprised at the king's frank admission of his own ruthlessness.

The king laughed again. "Indeed! And that's the key. Up until that point, I'd just grudgingly done as I was told, letting my father dictate everything I did. It took me a long time to get tired of never getting what I wanted -- I was already a grown man, by most measures."

King Draymond raised a finger. "But that day, the day I shoved him off the battlement, the day I decided to take action, to take responsibility for my life...that's the day I really became a man. Do you see now, Haran?"

Haran paused, looking back down at the prince below. He could hardly see any paralel, there. As a parent, the king seemed like precisely the opposite of how he described his own father. He indulged the prince's every whim -- fine clothes, wine, rich food, women, the lad was denied nothing. That stallion he currently rode was the third expensive purebred added to the prince's stable this year alone!

The lad wasn't as profligate as some, perhaps, and was cruel to neither the women nor the horses he was supplied, but he was still so thoroughly indulged that he could hardly help but spend all his time on frivolity and carnal distractions.

Then Haran's eyes widened in realization. He turned to the king, his mouth agape, as he recognized the cunning monarch's genius.

"...and when he grows up, he will overthrow the Golden King." Draymond quoted, smugly. "Well, even if you can't kill him -- and alas, the prophecy says you can't -- there's still one way to ensure that the brat never grows up..."

King Draymond gestured to the prince below, idly trotting in circles on his new horse. "Just give him everything he wants!"

[removed]

My favorite author is Dean Koontz, and he is masterful at this. In any given "scene" you hear, see, or smell things that pull you in even deeper than you already were. I'm sure there are authors even better at this than he is, but he's the one I know and I couldn't agree with you more. On that note, thank you for the reminder. It's so easy to get stuck on pacing the structure of a story or getting caught up in pedantic details. The simple human experience is at the heart of all good writing.

Even if it doesn't count, as they had to get to the Library first, I did enjoy the inspiration you gave me.

Two prompts got me writing today.

Thank you!

I try to employ all or most senses throughout the story when it comes to descriptions. I also do some planning before I write anything down so I can focus less on making up the plot as I go and more on telling it. Reading a lot and paying attention to what makes a story interesting to you is a good way to get writing examples.

If you're interested, you can dm me a part of a story if you have one and I can review it and give feedback. But it's up to you. :)

Day 137:

We were outside when the rain began. It felt like quarters were hitting our clothes and packs, each one connecting with flesh causing tiny welts.

The four store fronts we were next to did little to offer cover. The doors and windows were long boarded up, luck had it that the doors were built into the building providing alcoves that could fit us in groups.

Steven asked what we should do, he was being hit the most, barely fitting with his extra pack he carried for Marlene.

The world went white, lightning striking somewhere nearby.

Hector shouted pointing into the storm. Four white columns stood out in the dark between the twinkling rain.

When Steven asked how far, Marlene shouted too far. Jenny clung tighter to me as I turned to judge the distance.

It was far.

The sound of rain and leaves picked up as wind came blowing from the east.

I sheltered Jenny with my body the best I could with my face turned to the store to keep from begin hit. The world went white again.

In that flash I saw it. The thing that would help us get to the shelter that seemed so far away. Through the boards and passed the broken glass of the doorway was an umbrella hidden in the darkness.

The fabric tore as I pried it through the gap in the boards.

Marlene cried with joy as I pushed the button at the bottom and it unfurled above us.

Steven asked if it was big enough and it looked like it would work. In a tight ring we ran Hector leading us.

The umbrella didn’t last, halfway there the rain broke through the fabric. We picked up our pace. Steven screamed into the storm asking God why over and over again. Jenny and Marlene slipped up the steps as we ascended towards the pillars.

Hector stopped once he reached cover, but Jenny slipped once more. When I bent to grab her Marlene and Steven barreled into us. We all hit the wall of the building and crumbled into a pile of bodies and bags.

Jenny stared in wonder at the roof soaring high above us. Steven muttered to himself asking what this place was and what are the odds on the doors will opening. I tugged my hand into my sleeve and wiped hard at dirt encrusted onto a sign at the door.

‘Ravenhold Public Library’

Hector tried the door handles, they didn’t give. Marlene tried a smaller one with an ornate green knocker and the door opened inward.

Steven asked who would go first, Marlene pushed him in, the rest of us following after.

Another step took us into a round room with a vaulted dome ceiling. Painted stars dance across it drawing sighs from all of us.

How long, Steven asked. We all knew what he meant. How long since any of us had seen stars.

Jenny stepped into the center of the room, her pack tumbling down her tufted skirt. She had never seen stars. She had never seen a lot of things. She never would.

Steven slung her pack over his shoulder as Marlene took Jennys hand promising to show her more stars and more in the books they’d find for her as the three of them made their way through the stacks towards the children’s section.

Hector wandered off saying he’d take first watch. I turned, walking the opposite way of everyone else.

Dust stirred as I trailed my fingers beside me against the spines tucked neatly in place.

I made my nest amongst the ‘Historical Ravenhold Founders’ collection in a room with windows I can watch the roads from, and exits I could easily escape through if needed.

I found a portrait of a woman with short hair in a hooded robe. The case beneath it held seven lumps with multiple sides covered in the thinnest amount of dust. The placard beside the painting read:

‘Everything you need for a better future and success has already been written. - Thunder’

I wonder if she is right.

Will we find answers in this place?

Or is it…

In the days I’ve already written?

He was a young lad of about seventeen, on holiday after a particularly grueling year at the Lunar Royal Academy, when tragedy struck. His uncle, the only relative he had left, was murdered seconds before he arrived.

Now as heir to the estate of Vergas Ruthus, Servos had access to the financial records of his uncle. At first he couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary, but one day he remembered a passing remark from his uncle.

Quickly he found the document that could confirm his suspicions. After he presented his evidence to the detective in charge, Detective Messer Vendryl, they quickly called him in for questioning. Following is a transcript of the interrogation:

DET (Detective Vendryl): When you first met Ruthus senior what were the conditions of your employment?

SUS (prime suspect): What do you mean?

DET: Why were you hired over the other applicants?

SUS: I don’t understand, what does this have to do with Vergas’ murder?

DET: Quite a lot actually. I have here a record of a payment from him to you dated four Mainworld Days before your employment officially began. Do you care to read the amount for us?

SUS remains silent.

DET: Eighty-four thousand Daes! That’s a rather large amount to loan a total stranger don’t you think?

LWYR (attorney for the suspect): How is that relevant detective?

DET: On the memo line it says “loan for home purchase”. Yet in the land department records there’s no purchase within a whole moonth of that date in your name for any amount remotely close to that. There is a purchase for eight hundred Daes almost a year before, though. Now read this line.

SUS: “If I can get the job I’ll have access to the camera—“ what is this?

DET: This is a transcript of your communication with a well known interplanetary thief. Where you go into great detail about your plan to rob your prospective employer.

LWYR: Where did you get that?

DET: From the Worley Communication Solutions archives, here’s a copy of the warrant.

DET gives LWYR a document.

DET: This next transcript is from a moonth later. It says, among other things, how “the <redacted> won’t show me the feeds.” And “I’ll let you know if I find another way in.” But this next one is from him to you: “Don’t bother with that. Just transfer to me three hundred thousand Daes and I’ll let you off.”

DET leans in.

DET: I knew Vergas. If you had told him the truth he would have given you the money. But instead you wanted to steal money from a stranger.

SUS fidgets in his seat.

DET: I have here a record your financial accounts. And wouldn’t you know it matches perfectly with the amounts of several thefts all around the galaxy. So here’s the deal: you can confess to murdering Commodore Ruthus and we’ll put you in a secure prison where you’ll be safe. Or we can release you while we build a murder case against you; but inevitably someone will leak this information to the press who will publish it where those you stole from will read it. And you know some of them don’t care about trials and red tape. Either way I suggest you have your attorney notify your next of kin.

Well that’s all I’ve got. This was the only protagonist I’ve actually abandoned. However the inspiration he is from can be found here. I never got around to finishing it but I figured this would be a good way to wrap things up a bit.

Anyways come check out some of my other stories.

Definetly not overdone, at least to me! I loved it

Spectactular entry, OP!! Vivid, lean, and original. Made the hair on my neck stand up