Duncan Wilson's Blog, page 4

Once Upon A Lane Anniversary Sale!

In celebration of the publication anniversary of Once Upon A Lane, I have cut the price in half! Both ebook and paperback are half off! I’ll probably raise it after Christmas, so if you ever wanted to buy my book, this is the time to grab a copy!

The post Once Upon A Lane Anniversary Sale! first appeared on Hic Sunt Deos.

Twitter Art Micro-Stories: November 8-14, 2020

'The world can be so bleak at times, so lacking in options, so devoid of destiny. Often it seems the odds are against us and our very future is uncertain. And it is. It always has been this way, but certainty is not necessary for survival and we can find hope even in desolation.' https://t.co/gqQAoPMS5D

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 13, 2020

'Being a child of destiny is a challenge, from fending off resentful rivals and fabled foes to roving where none but ferocious fiends have tread before, all to fulfill some ancient prophecy that predicted your prodigy so long ago. Sometimes dragons are the least of your worries.' https://t.co/Z86bSBP8b3

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 13, 2020

'Is it a making or an unmaking? Is it the end of the world or the birth of anew? Apocalypses are always appalling to all affixed to the ancient. Change can be catastrophic, but it can also invigorate otherwise stagnant and dying worlds. Just don't get caught in the cataclysm.' https://t.co/nGW1zJuZa2

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 13, 2020

'We would stand in their shadows, aspiring to inspire as even their images in effigy inflame the intellects and actions of so many even millennia after. We measure ourselves against their out-sized influences and wonder if ever we will stand as tall as these heroes of ages ago.' https://t.co/J72akPUo97

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 13, 2020

'What it seeks cannot be found, not in this world or the next, neither in the past nor the future, for what it seeks would be the undoing of all, the unraveling of reality in ways we cannot imagine. It is not of this world and we pray it never finds what it is looking for.' https://t.co/vo6C1H5c1K

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 13, 2020

'It was not a sacred place, just a secret place, where the stone snake slithered when the sun soared overhead and seared every surface. Here, nobody bothered it, here it could rest and recuperate from the struggles only golems knew. Even stones need a soak every so often…' https://t.co/AJ1wVtpS26

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 12, 2020

'Amid murky muddled meditations of infinite introspection and endless irksome irritations, one must remember to relax, to breathe and banish bothersome banalities, to smell the sweet scents of spring and savor serenity wherever we would wander, whenever we can remember to rest.' https://t.co/zkgM5T5qZk

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 11, 2020

'There is a freedom in flight, a solitude of the skies where nothing but the sun and the clouds can climb higher. It was only through tremendous effort and extravagant expense of energy that such a mighty creature could attain the air but it was worth it all to rule the heavens.' https://t.co/FyJvohgeeM

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 11, 2020

'It is ever the great gulfs before us that give us pause, it is ever the daunting deeds we have not yet done that stay our steps and destroy our dreams, the seemingly insurmountable summits and yawning chasms that could still swallow us whole. We forget the wars we already won.' https://t.co/jMGKHFeOWg

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 11, 2020

'It was ever the same. The seekers, the searchers, the silent souls struggling to see something somewhere, anything anywhere other than the outer edges of infinity, bound between past and present, ever evading the edges of eternity in the muddled memory of their lost lives.' https://t.co/Pm1i3uTAtL

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 11, 2020

'Swirling sands, whipping waves, clashing and calamitous clouds portending dark destinies for all lingering life upon this wasting world…. The storm serpent was a cyclical advent, arising every aeon to erase the errors of another age to renew the world in another wave of woe.' https://t.co/t8LMWyyCOG

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 11, 2020

'The sacred spirit tree that grew from the mountain, the world tree with its web of roots that tapped deep rivers and shifted sands many miles away, was worshiped by every people in one way or another. They came to offer prayer and tribute, or they came to weep at its beauty.' https://t.co/Tfmrj7KPFe

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 10, 2020

'We always wondered why they were so scared, why they always fled from sight whenever we glimpsed them scurrying across our paths or between dense clumps of grass. We imagined they were afraid of us though we left them alone. But then, perhaps they were fleeing something else…' https://t.co/UkcUjRuLeK

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 10, 2020

'It was but an unavoidable evolution of a wanton, wasteful world, one more harbinger of the end of everything reckless, everything rash in this world transformed to serve but one species, to serve so few of all who had survived so far, survived until now…. It was inevitable.' https://t.co/0hVc1wXbkK

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 10, 2020

'Oh mighty city in the sun, once home to many now to none, how does the light shimmer from your walls, now does the wind whistle through your halls. Long were your glories, your rule over all, short was your destruction, swift was your fall. Now but a ruin, now but an omen…' https://t.co/legosiS21G

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 10, 2020

'It was a sacred wood for the mages, but not as a source of their powers. There were great magics to be found here, to be certain, but they were not the same mystic forces they wielded. No, these were wild magics, untapped and forbidden from exploration, reserved for nature.' https://t.co/irbUHXZqUq

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 10, 2020

'Untouched, untrammeled, untamed in an age when even the furthest fields and ranges were being claimed and named by the ever enveloping encroachment of mankind. This land was yet free of such settlements, the indomitable domain of some of the other living creatures of the world.' https://t.co/GOsuBTbh3Z

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 9, 2020

'It was a long journey for anyone so old, a route that would challenge even one far younger. And yet he trudged along, alone, unafraid of the dangers. This was a trip he had made many times before, and would again many times again. This pilgrimage was his duty, and his alone.' https://t.co/yCxzpErrGm

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 9, 2020

'The birds knew the way. The birds always knew where to find shelter from the sadistic storm of the sun. His were the first footsteps for unimaginable aeons, echoing along the narrow canyon cliffs, so sharp and steep so as to safeguard the secrets of the past for so long.' https://t.co/60xVB1jzp5

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 9, 2020

'The more you see the more you learn the more you know the more you think the more you dream the more you want the more you seek the more you find the more you see the more you learn the more you know the more you think the more you dream the more you want the more you seek…' https://t.co/HZbGNaku2s

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 9, 2020

'His friends had warned him of the woogie of the woods, had told him lurid tales of terror, teasing him for his fears of shadows and wild creatures. His friends had goaded him, dared him to enter the woods and find the woogie and he had, thinking it was all a lie. It was no lie.' https://t.co/vetwLW7g4r

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 9, 2020

The post Twitter Art Micro-Stories: November 8-14, 2020 first appeared on Hic Sunt Deos.

Twitter Art Micro-Stories: November 1-7, 2020

'Old manor house upon the hill, what are the forgotten tales you tell? Who dwelt within your walls, and wandered down your halls? Did they leave or did they perish, now naught but dreams to cherish? Are they ghostly, bound here closely, or did they wander else and yonder?' https://t.co/XxtcN5YcOx

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 6, 2020

'They had torn the world from this spot, deep below the dirt where the grasses grew and the flowers flourished. They had dug down and ripped what they wanted from below, no thought to the health of the heath. They had left long ago, but still the structure stood , as a reminder.' https://t.co/7xvPN1xy0E

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 4, 2020

'It was a place of worship, of pilgrimage, of wonder and of awe. The priests prayed for its destruction while kings sought to secure it as a locus of power and prestige. They called it the Demon Throne, and all thought evil dwelt there. But it was where angels entered our world.' https://t.co/pGtIM69DUA

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 4, 2020

"What is it, daddy?"
"Don't look, child. Come we must go home. We have our catch."
"Is she ok?"
"It is not our business, child. We must not tarry."
"But she looks hurt!"
"There's nothing we can do for her. She is not one of ours. Leave it alone now."
"But, daddy! I want to help!" https://t.co/N4WQL3avhW

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 4, 2020

'They were a friendly sort, always eagerly awaiting any outsider, smiling at every stranger, welcoming any and all to stop by, have a chat, and relax in the heat of the day. They were incredibly sociable, and could not fathom why everyone avoided them, grimacing at their grins.' https://t.co/bkWkvz9J0I

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 4, 2020

'They flew in formation, as they had trained to do for so many years. She directed them through the smoke and the storm as they approached the entrenched enemies ahead. She felt pride at her warriors, these majestic dragons, but feared many would fall before the end of the day.' https://t.co/vJfv7b9scF

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 2, 2020

'It was not fear that drove her into battle with the abominations. She was not protecting her people from a threat out here in the wilds. Nor was it vengeance for some past wrong. No, her fight with the foul fiends was wholly one of disgust that any would desecrate the dead.' https://t.co/UIiE6g17hK

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 2, 2020

'Long ago, with violent tremors that tore rocks asunder, the land itself seized and split one side from the other. Ever since, life had found its way down into the earth, slowly and gradually colonizing what had once been a wound, mending the fracture perpetual renewal.' https://t.co/vkYRFXlFek

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 2, 2020

'Truly a master of wind and wing, a danger in dusk and dark, a terror to all small creatures that scurry or slither, the majestic and mysterious owl still was no stranger to want and worry. Even the hunters that fear no other must work for their meals and secure shelter.' https://t.co/UgQ5WxnSA6

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 2, 2020

'The villagers cautioned outsiders of the fungus. The mushrooms were not toxic, at least no one had died from them, but then no one ever ate them, heeding the centuries of superstition. In truth, they were delicious and nutritious, but none could get past the eerie lights.' https://t.co/b48XFrDFYt

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 2, 2020

"Admit it."
"No."
"I was right, it did rain."
"Alright, it rained."
"I was prepared, you were not."
"Ok, you were. You brought an umbrella."
"… And the rest?"
"Look, I don't care that it's raining, it often rains. And what possible use could the cane be for?"
"You'll see." https://t.co/yNRdZ5iHO1

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 1, 2020

The post Twitter Art Micro-Stories: November 1-7, 2020 first appeared on Hic Sunt Deos.

Twitter Art Micro-Stories: October 22-31, 2020

'It was a precarious place to erect an edifice perched upon the impermanent in the most inconvenient and inaccessible manner. They called the owners mad and other unflattering designations. The owners just replied that all such structures were built upon the unstable in the end.' https://t.co/nAht5Xo7aI

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 31, 2020

'They made camp while they tried to puzzle out the portal. The locals had called them when it first manifested, for they were the experts in portals. But this one was particularly peculiar. At first it hissed and smoked, like all the others, but now it just spit out kittens…' https://t.co/KuT7EfVjlv

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 31, 2020

'No one could figure out how the vikings got there nor could they account for the lack of any other evidence of their journey to and landing on the distant world. Yet the ax was definitely viking in origin, so a day of celebration was declared and the site became a tourist stop.' https://t.co/MPcrTrAEzQ

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 31, 2020

'In the umber under-realm, where dreams decay and die, deep beneath the blasted, broken boughs, the undulating under-forge comes alive. Foul fiends feed the fires and dance delightedly to each emerging evil the furnace fires fling forth, another abomination to haunt our sleep.' https://t.co/GxNbibzEhO

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 30, 2020

'Some called her monster, and she could act the monster when made to fear for her life. Some called her devil, and her displeasure seemed demonic to those who spat in her face or sought to subdue her. But she was no more or less than another citizen, simply trying to survive.' https://t.co/k2S4hsG5ID

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 30, 2020

'Every joint scraped and snapped with each step. Every sinew stretched and screeched when it sprang at screaming strangers. Existence was an unending ordeal, no escape from this wretched mortal coil seemed possible. Oh how it wished those damn acolytes had created it correctly.' https://t.co/m3LadsO6Qo

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 30, 2020

'The rains had come again, this time to stay. It had been ages since they had seen the night sky through the glare, it had been only of late that the sky grew dark even as the sun stood high above. Then the rains had come, and natural light became but a memory, a fading dream.' https://t.co/uiTQpodPQG

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 30, 2020

'Every evening, when the breakers burst and the waters wash white, shattering upon the sands only to retreat and rise once more, an unrelenting onslaught against the shore, every evening as the searing sun sets, the tide comes in once more, and the promise of a new day tomorrow.' https://t.co/nFs1sUXX8A

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 30, 2020

'It was a cold hard world, where only very strong, very tough creatures could survive, where prey was scarce and mercy unknown. It was to this foreboding frozen wilderness that she came, not as an exile, but as a conqueror. Of all the dangers upon the snows, she would be queen.' https://t.co/1AvkBTtyPH

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 29, 2020

'A forest floor filled with fish and fucus, a marine maze brimming with beasts of the brine, some hunted, some hunter, some one and then the other. Life beneath the washing waves, hidden from those above, thrives with lives few can imagine and most will never witness.' https://t.co/s1lGPW5mRb

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 29, 2020

'It took centuries for the tribes of the island to come together as a single people. It took further centuries for those tribes to cease their struggles for dominance over the others. When the outsiders arrived, they found but one tribe, one with a long, bloody history to tell.' https://t.co/AW6ZXRnarC

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 29, 2020

'Through gleam or gloom, through forest and over field, the silent hunter soars, ever watching, ever waiting, ever alert for any movement, any sign of something small scurrying from one hidden hole to another reclusive refuge from the seeker, the silent stalker in the sky.' https://t.co/Q7OkDsEt9A

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 29, 2020

'Far forbidden lands, filled with foreign fortunes to be found! Far from home, in regions related by rumor, where exotic exploits and impossible adventures await, the young and the restless venture forth, in search of strange, only to find the mere mundane in unfamiliar flavors.' https://t.co/mVSKSGVUYk

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 29, 2020

'Beside babbling brooks, beneath banks of billowing blue and grey clouds, life was languid and could be so sweet and simple. This far removed from one's fellows, fear and fashion seem so slight, so silly, almost as if the concerns and cares of crowds never needed notice.' https://t.co/TYFirFgemM

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 28, 2020

'It was a gibbering, shuddering abomination, lurching about the abandoned artifacts its ancient ancestors, seeking for sustenance, scouring for souls to suck and sup upon. Its entire existence was pain, yet still it hungered for subsistence, to survive and search some more.' https://t.co/AuG4a53JTL

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 28, 2020

'Theirs was a special calling, far afield in the frontier. Theirs was a mission to minister to the meandering miscreants, if ever such sought solace for their sins. There was nothing of value in the Chapel of the Cleft Channel, nothing but the absolution of man for other men.' https://t.co/mKYJLipK79

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 28, 2020

'All was serene and secure in the demesne of the demon lord. One could not imagine a more peaceful or stable kingdom. There were no wars, no unrest, no poverty, no hunger, and, alas, no people at all. Indeed, it was peaceful, for it was Pax Sepulcrum, the peace of the grave.' https://t.co/5OFhPqBnbm

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 28, 2020

'The bird of light would not be able to dodge forever, nor could it take to the sky and flee, not with the world in peril. It would have to swoop and slash again and again, to harry the horrible world eater until the wizard's spell could take hold and bind the monster once more.' https://t.co/GGKjCbTmYm

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 28, 2020

'There are many gods and lesser spirits that rule our world every day, gods of fearsome forces, and for every mighty mountain and river upon the land. There are spirits for every living thing and even rocks and sand. But few know of the color pixie that brings joy in both hands.' https://t.co/OdbFeb7Axy

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 26, 2020

'The new tower was safe and secure, though all who came and went grumbled for the long weary path to its gates. The tower could be closer to the valley floor, they said to any who would listen. Yes, they groused even in the shadow of the old tower that had flooded and fallen.' https://t.co/but96c0k2o

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 26, 2020

'Worship The Sun!, the imperial command, shouted every priest in the land and people bent knee and raised hand. Worship The Sun!, the wailing cry as shadows rolled across the sky and darkness grew nigh. Worship The Sun! was the refrain when light came again where night had lain.' https://t.co/v0DcxQeom0

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 26, 2020

'Some worlds are dead, destroyed by near neighbors, by their own chaotic convulsions, or burned out by their own stars. Some are devastated by the very life they spawn and host. Yet, even dead worlds can know renewal, as new, unfathomable life arises to churn the soot into soil.' https://t.co/356ZQ1zWN5

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 26, 2020

'Beware the Old Wood with trees so tall and bare. Beware the Old Wood, where only darkness dare. Beware the sorrowful silence where nothing living stirs. Beware the dead trees where past and future blurs. Beware the Old Gods of the Old Wood, who watch in wait for fools to snare.' https://t.co/NMvNGQ6j66

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 26, 2020

'Terrified, out here, all alone, in the dark wood where none were to venture, she startled at every sound, flinched at every falling leaf. Somewhere out there the fabled Night Mother crept. The further she wandered, the more shadows enveloped her. Then, her eyes lit the night.' https://t.co/qi1csFcDjC

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 23, 2020

"Where do you go today, dear one?"
"Why, into the forest to get to the other side."
"Why do you enter the dark forest, so full of dangers and the unknown?"
"To visit a dear old love, of course."
"A close friend, a beloved old member of the family?"
"I come to visit you, silly!" https://t.co/au57RIEOOe

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 23, 2020

'The scars we bear are monuments to the damage done by those around us, by an uncaring world, and even wounds we inflict upon ourselves. The wounds may heal, after a fashion, but the marks remain, marring our appearance, both what the world sees, and how we perceive ourselves.' https://t.co/wxDYGnvAMU

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 23, 2020

'Once more the towers stood, once more the walls had thrown back the forces arrayed against them. They were the worse for wear, as they were after every siege, but had held and were safe for another year and they could take the time to mend the Fortress of the New Dawn anew.' https://t.co/KsGeuG0uTH

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 23, 2020

'He was not at all sure she was real when he first spied her among the crowd. It was a masquerade, and all about her dismissed her strange appearance as illusion, but her aspect troubled him. She kept staring at him with her deep dark eyes, and he could not help but shudder.' https://t.co/stFkKRiwwj

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 22, 2020

'She was not lost. She had never seen this place before, nor the wonders that appeared before her. She had no idea where she was or what lay ahead. She did not even know how to return to anywhere she had been before, but she was most definitely not lost. She was on an adventure.' https://t.co/SLUc1xZHxT

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 22, 2020

'Another lost soul, another effortless apprehension, another bounty he would forget the details of before his afternoon tea. Just another contract. Just another job to get by another week in the modern world. They didn't even register as individuals anymore, barely human at all.' https://t.co/ZpTjhgmumP

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 22, 2020

'A life lived under the scrutiny of an invisible god is a fearful, terrifying affair, where every doubt reflects divine judgement and every mistake may be eternally fatal. How much more horrifying must it be when a god is actually manifest, watching, waiting, and ravenous?' https://t.co/qFs6wcRil7

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 22, 2020

'Most think force must be met with force, that the greater the power of a foe, the stronger one must be to resist. And yet, the eagle flees from the crow, and tyrants fear those they oppress, not from strength, but from their persistence and determination to drive off predators.' https://t.co/A1OLLLlghG

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 22, 2020

The post Twitter Art Micro-Stories: October 22-31, 2020 first appeared on Hic Sunt Deos.

Twitter Art Micro-Stories: October 15-21, 2020

'It was meant to be a lure for the unwary, those smaller creatures meant to be food, a shining bauble to draw in the inattentive and incautious into pouncing distance. But it was immature yet, and could no more resist the entrancing orb dancing above its head than its prey.' https://t.co/iYKGj3Gx7J

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 21, 2020

'Fairies are rare sights, for those who are not aware, for those who cannot, or will not see the magic of the meadows and the fae of the forests. But for those who know how to look beyond the banal and observe the whimsy of the world, there's a faerie princess for every flower. ' https://t.co/M9O4uBr5ma

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 21, 2020

'Sometimes the world can seem so large, so overwhelming, like nothing we do or say matters at all. Sometimes, it can all be a little too much. But… sometimes our hopes and dreams and the little things we do from day to day can add up and manifest into something truly powerful.' https://t.co/ipyCTJnchR

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 21, 2020

'The old man seemed fragile and frail, but appearances can be deceptive. The dragon stands guard, not keeping watch on the humble human beneath its wings, but on the world around, so to spy any threats to its father. Naught dwells in this domain but by the old man's design.' https://t.co/uy5rR21kRm

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 21, 2020

'They cried out to eternity, they cried out to the gods above and the demons below, they cried out to any who might hear them, pleading for pardon from an uncaring existence. He heard their cries, and he forgave them, for he was forgiveness. But, alas, he could not help them…' https://t.co/Ytkwi7TMZ6

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 20, 2020

'At the heart of all things, so close to the source of all life and meaning, we do not find ourselves. We may seek our purpose there, we search for some sign that we are the center of our own world, but what we find is something greater, something grander, something special.' https://t.co/AiFIWiScF8

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 20, 2020

''To our eyes, decay seems distasteful, disgraceful, disturbing. To our eyes, what we build should last, should defy the natural order, should mark our passage and our influence over this world. We shudder at the notion that our efforts are but a blight on the passage of time.' https://t.co/N5UOVC46tv

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 20, 2020

'Far behind her, her mother was calling. Her past, the world she already knew, the world of the safe and the predictable, her past life was waiting for her to return. She heard their calls, their entreaties to turn back, but she did not. Before here lay too many possibilities.' https://t.co/1nBGO0Zdj2

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 20, 2020

'Somehow he had to defeat this monster. Somehow, against all odds he had to stand against this seemingly insurmountable force intent on destroying everything he knew and loved. Victory seemed impossible, ludicrous, but still he had to try. If he did not try, no one else would.' https://t.co/RRY93JAcEx

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 20, 2020

'The god of fire and renewal seeks no worshipers, has no need of praise or prayer, the god of flames needs only tinder to stoke their reign. Yet, the fragile and flammable still flock to the deadly deity drawn by the fury of the flare, seduced by the flicker of the inferno.' https://t.co/Eo4HKJPNda

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 19, 2020

'The temples would occassionally coalesce from the mists, silently reminding the nearby tribes of a time when they ruled, and were ruled in kind by jealous gods, gods who demanded their obedience and the subjugation of others. The tribes would shudder and watch them fade away.' https://t.co/7ybF62L0py

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 19, 2020

'Some structures are so old, so lost in the decaying memory of what once was, that their very reason to be eludes us. We puzzle over their purpose, supposing some secret significance where likely mundane motivations gave rise to their construction. We need there to be a reason.' https://t.co/PM8eIGrY8X

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 19, 2020

'Ancient markers from elder cultures, beacons of order in the natural world, reveal where our kind has tread before, where we have ventured and sometimes prospered, but since fell away and let the wild win the day. The old idols remind us that in the end, nature will prevail.' https://t.co/PJnvWaM5yI

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 19, 2020

'Were the world we know and love, the world we have built for so long into one ideally suited to our needs and desires, to fall and fade away, there would be survivors. If all that we have made and all that we treasure were to vanish, some would live on but they would not be us.' https://t.co/2R3tSDzh63

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 19, 2020

'Purple frog in the bog, how do you live your day? Catch a fly, on the sly, do you have much to say? Jump and croak, dive and soak, why do you live your life? Sit and sun, strike and stun, how do you handle strife? purple frog in the bog, idle away every day…' https://t.co/TmG6kRkZpx

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 19, 2020

'The forces of the fortress were arrayed against them, fully fortified and fearing no fight. They had the numbers, and their refuge was a bulwark built for such occasions. But when the farcically few they faced offered them but one chance to surrender, doubt began to dawn….' https://t.co/ZdSVPSYH5d

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 18, 2020

'His kind were older than all the cities and societies of the landlocked species. They acted as if they owned all, as if they were the ones to discover everything and develop power. But his kind had been subjugating spells in the deep seas before the others had even evolved.' https://t.co/VU2eZJYaiL

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 18, 2020

'The temptation had been equally irresistible and revolting, had drawn him in even as he tried to pull away and flee from its presence. Yet, no matter how he had tried to hide, he had eventually donned the device and surrendered to the sickening serenity that now commanded him.' https://t.co/fc8Ku9rG5D

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 18, 2020

'The past would not forgive them, not on this world, not on the only world they had ever known, the world they had failed to save from their own follies. No, the past would be left behind with this once thriving planet. They would have to try for a better future somewhere else.' https://t.co/u8mmuWQNmO

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 18, 2020

"Come with me, o' curious creature, come with me into the wondrous world below. All you know above is gone forever, lost with your once stout ship, shattered by the surging storm above. Come with me, o' lost lone survivor, come, you are welcome in the dark depths where we go." https://t.co/7Rt7uZms6d

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 18, 2020

'Certainly, lemons have their tart, a sour sustenance most prefer consuming with copious quantities of sugar. But some creatures great and small, savor the bite of bitter, preferring the acidic flavor over anything sweeter. The little yellow dragons mostly survived on such food.' https://t.co/aoYnaa0tlY

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 17, 2020

'He sighed as he watched the lovely creature swoop through the stalks, swimming with the songbirds in the midday sun. It had been so long since he had seen a luck dragon, he had almost started to doubt they were real. Tears came unbidden. Perhaps his life turning around at last.' https://t.co/1ofnT6xLO4

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 17, 2020

'The riders fled before the fury of the forest, as did all their intended prey. Hunters and hunted racing from menacing root and branch as fast as their strength would allow. Some sinister sleeping spirits had awoken deep in the dark woods, and now the wild hunt was upon them.' https://t.co/Bu59NMJnAf

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 17, 2020

'Most know of the tree spirits, sometimes called dryads, daphnaie, epimeliad, hadadryad, meliae, and querquetulanae, each a lovely maiden unique to its kind of tree. Few know about the other guardians of the groves, each as unique, the mighty if minuscule wyverns of the woods.' https://t.co/2Kyv9CofFT

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 17, 2020

'Man tamed the dragons out of necessity. No, the dragons had not hunted them, had not hunted their herds, and had not been a threat of any kind. But the dragons could fly, and man needed to take to the skies to take their battle to the far more terrifying monsters in the clouds.' https://t.co/ec4GUpSThD

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 17, 2020

'He knew not who all had tread here in the last thousand years, but it could not have been many. He was so deep in the ancient lands, the forgotten realms of older men, that all he saw was crumbling. It had been a long time since any had remembered these ruins, or wanted to.' https://t.co/0nVdQoJbuG

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 16, 2020

"I'm telling you, these were weapons!"
"No way! They were used to build things!"
"How do you know?"
"My grandfather told me!"
"Well he's wrong!"
"How do YOU know?"
"Simple! If they were builders, they wouldn't have been left to rot! We'd still be using them. These were for war." https://t.co/igcFPA1vLB

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 16, 2020

'It was not the tower that was important. Oh, they thought the tower they built was vital, but it was of transient worth to their society, and many other solutions would do just as well. No, it was the coordination and cooperation as they worked together that was of real value.' https://t.co/i3qyD8dh7f

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 16, 2020

'In every life there are times when the road could not seem more fraught, when the challenges seem insurmountable and the goals so far away. But we cannot let the desperation of the moment envelop us in darkness, not when we are so close to the end, so near the light we seek.' https://t.co/gBr8iyWabO

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 16, 2020

'Up here, among the waves of mist and wind, up here amid the carefree creatures of the clouds, she could be carefree, she could be courageous, Up here, there was so much to see and so little to do but enjoy the view as she sailed from one cloud-bank to another. Up here, was joy.' https://t.co/2amf6Ruaeq

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 16, 2020

'Now he knew mysteries never meant to be asked, much less known, by mortal man. Now he knew the meaning of madness and the sickness of sanity slipping away into senselessness. Now he knew there were things to be feared and left alone. Now he knew what it meant to meet a god.' https://t.co/JWXdDlh2to

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 15, 2020

'It was not the endless abyss, the never-ending nightmare, nor the desperate darkness that drove men mad. No, it was what slithered soundlessly from beyond, and the spectral stars that sparkled and stared from some space separate, severed from sanity beyond the beyond.' https://t.co/zIucT7mYTb

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 15, 2020

'It was not the terrible threats they found as they fathomed the depths of the abyss that frightened the intrepid explorers. Certainly, these were cryptids to be cautious of, even to avoid if possible, but it was that these fearsome fiends avoided other areas yet to be explored.' https://t.co/o2jFAhp05s

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 15, 2020

'Beyond dusty deserts, below the setting of the sun where naught but sands and soot stain the sunsets, still some trees settle, seeking sustenance in scorched soils, securing saturation from subterranean streams and seas, surviving where even tenacious travelers dare not tread.' https://t.co/yZKFMxSgyx

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 15, 2020

'This colossus of the cavernous cove was not summoned to serve some secret sect, nor was it sought for some sorcerous significance. No, the mighty monster was lured from far below out of a far more mundane desire. They fished it forth to feed their village for the coming season.' https://t.co/1d1FDds7Xp

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 15, 2020

The post Twitter Art Micro-Stories: October 15-21, 2020 first appeared on Hic Sunt Deos.

Twitter Art Micro-Stories: October 8-14, 2020

'He had been summoned to secure the city against a creature. He had been promised a handsome reward for his efforts and been assured it was a threat he could handle. After all, he was known far and wide for his prowess against monsters. But seriously, this was beyond ridiculous.' https://t.co/USvfOZDsW5

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 14, 2020

'The temples of the gods of order sprung up in some strange spots. Far from cities and other settlements, they appeared almost as if by magic, in inaccessible wilds still the domain of nature, as if portents of pilgrims to come, premonitions of potential progress yet to come.' https://t.co/S4chDpIqZz

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 14, 2020

'Idle wonder, but no real need, drove his commands to the creatures. Each a lesser version of itself, made manifest from the eldritch aethers all its own, but somehow drawn to him, their apparent lord and master. He had no plans for the petty sprites, but still they served him.' https://t.co/HZlZrZtYVA

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 14, 2020

'How many had died to fill the cauldron was not known for the rites had started long ago. Those that finished the incantations had never known their predecessors, being called to their unholy duties by the cauldron itself, seeking to fulfill its foul task. And now hell opened…' https://t.co/THVMW1GpQT

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 14, 2020

'It was not about mastery, had never been about becoming a champion. His had always been a struggle of survival, of independence in a world unfit for him or any who were not the norm. Still his training and his diligence to be competent had achieved an excellence unknown to any.' https://t.co/1dMxUGe2qy

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 14, 2020

'She had no need of her trade, or any trade at all. There was no secret she could not seek, no goal she could not gain. Still, she strove for celebrity in such a scholarship as few found fit, no matter the caste she came from. Such was her struggle, such her success the sweeter.' https://t.co/ky5vxfxAyS

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 13, 2020

'Upon prosperous plains, the productive plow and plant, planning and preparing for potential pitfalls, setting aside stores against storm and starvation yet unseen, yet unrealized. For foresight favors the fervent farmer who fears fallow futures and produces provisions.' https://t.co/NYZkX5PZlR

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 13, 2020

'From ancient leys or end of days, there are things that stalk the shadows. Older god or newfound fiend, beware what blights the barrows, be you fearless or be you craven, their notice brings but sorrows. Flee fast if found by forest fiend, if at all you seek tomorrows.' https://t.co/L97iRFJilq

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 13, 2020

'Beware the bear, bane of both bowman and beast, forest fiend, feared on field and farm, marsh monster, marauder of the mountains, whose name is never called but as a curse upon the corrupt. Fear the frightening foe of all who find their fair favor fleeting before its fury.' https://t.co/zK8CU2M0X8

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 13, 2020

'If not for their unnatural angle, all would assume they were the remnants of mountains, fashioned by flood and fierce storms of old. Some still thought such, or that the gods carved them to fit their whim. But they were built by man long ago, by means lost to time and war.' https://t.co/gVElE4uT9i

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 13, 2020

'The benefits of being a witch were seemingly boundless. Sure, there were some drawbacks, such as the scared stares of strangers. Yet, even this annoyance was occasionally of use, such as when she wanted to be left alone, unbothered while she relaxed and enjoyed a good book.' https://t.co/REUgcNHPNj

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 12, 2020

'The heartmother was an ancient god of the ancient folk, the same folk still found in the forests and the swamps upon occasion, hiding from the foreigners that had come to dominate their homelands. She offered no protection for the folk, but guarded their souls in the hereafter.' https://t.co/S0f449mFbY

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 12, 2020

'Any ship in good repair and full trim, had no real trouble outpacing an enraged elder god, though most experienced explorers knew which regions to avoid and could spot the signs of an errant elder on the prowl. Some pirates sheltered in their waters, though, to their own peril.' https://t.co/RykQl3QzjU

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 12, 2020

'Migratory, solitary, contemporary, the modern crab tends towards only the most fashionable of forsaken frameworks. Sleek, if not slender, such structures make ideal domestic dwellings for any ambitious arthropod. For those on the climb with the times, it's free real estate.' https://t.co/hLTksFhCvF

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 12, 2020

'The world-bore had first been seen by ancient astrologers searching the stars for some sign of celestial council. They witnessed a distant world cored and broken by the blinding beam from beyond. Since, several other worlds had borne the bore and died. Now, the bore was here…' https://t.co/6C9yeQMrZR

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 12, 2020

'Waking when all are asleep, catching sight of passing dreams with wide eyes and infinite curiosity, the world can hold such potential, such promise. When we dream beyond our sanctuaries and sound sleeps, when we look to the stars and see a celestial sea, then we are truly free.' https://t.co/gUdtdEKeqU

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 11, 2020

"Every time I write about life and death, I have to stop on a shuddered breath, as I try to choke back a cry and I realize I too will die.
My pen wants to discuss the somber tones of life's final throes, while my mind would prefer that such things never were, and never will be." https://t.co/mE35Hs6C4v

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 11, 2020

'She could not believe it. She had just stumbled upon it, never even dreaming of searching for, much less finding one. They were so rare, the most elusive of plants, of all living things and worth more than all the rest combined. And it was right there in her hands, a hopeseed.' https://t.co/fi9u3GlQBI

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 11, 2020

'Lightning in a bottle was easy, as any apprentice witch would tell you. You don't even have to leave the ground to tempt the scorching bolts into your awaiting vials. No, what was a real challenge was catching a shooting star before it fell to earth and became just a stone.' https://t.co/P0j7A76i5y

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 11, 2020

'It seemed so desolate, such a gloomy locale to want to live. Few thought of the place with any but disdain, and those few were indifferent at best. Of course such a reputation made the misty and marshy moor the ideal sanctuary of any who shared a similar notoriety in society…' https://t.co/unpdQkKs4B

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 11, 2020

'The seal was complete at last. He was the last of the order alive, the only guardian to survive the binding, to save the world from the danger within. Now, the warning was inscribed in the common tongue and he prayed the far future would never forget the meaning of the symbols.' https://t.co/60lQ0aPsoL

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 10, 2020

'Life is complex, and we spend so many waking hours learning the proper patterns and required rituals to navigate the near future. So much of our time is simply studying to survive. But every so often, we are allowed a few moments of rest and relaxation in which to read.' https://t.co/174nDNpX34

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 10, 2020

'It was not the smartest member of the pack, quite possibly the dumbest. The others had avoided the waters, wary of their golden glow, but it had lapped up the liquid with little caution. It had not been a smart creature but now it could see new colors and sense eternity itself.' https://t.co/GwOnuk50iw

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 10, 2020

'Eerie in the evening, nightmarish at night, the small farmhouse was seldom seen but often discussed. Was it cursed, as they all feared, haunted by the last family to till its fields? Or was it but a sign of the times, another failed and forlorn farm abandoned in the depression?' https://t.co/DmQW6kfH9c

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 10, 2020

'Every wave is a moment in motion, every second of the sun's setting is another gone forever. So many seconds in every minute, every day, every year of our life, they cascade upon us then wash away before we know them. Some get lost in the surf, some help others learn to swim.' https://t.co/0W01RncOqB

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 10, 2020

'He had fought with courage and great fervor for the old ways and the old gods, he had fallen on the field of battle as they demanded. Now, as he stood before the gates to his eternal reward, he gripped his ax tightly. He would have a reckoning with those who demanded his wrath.' https://t.co/25YNqNImSp

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 9, 2020

'Surely there must be a wider world out there among the flitting stars, dancing overhead, blinking in and out of existence throughout the night. They stars must come from somewhere, must have some place to rest their wings when the sun arose. Perhaps there was more to the world.' https://t.co/ImthI3WH40

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 9, 2020

'The rains they come, the rains they dance. Few have prepared for such temperamental torrents, fewer still have any alternative than to await until it abates. And so they wait, and wonder, and worry. The winds will wain, the waters will wander. But not now. Now they must abide.' https://t.co/boLMEJHhlZ

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 9, 2020

'The high passage was the only safe path between two worlds. At first there was great traffic across the sky bridge, as throngs of merchants, refugees, and the curious crowded along the passage from both sides. There is far less now they know the two worlds are equally broken.' https://t.co/Pbec8pMoGq

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 9, 2020

'There was a subtlety to the sadness, a melody to the melancholy, a dance to the despair and depression, she was sure of it, she knew it deep in her core. She had to believe there was some design to her despondency that she could seize and subdue, but she had not found it yet.' https://t.co/FuZq3XQYWQ

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 9, 2020

'All things considered, our needs are simple. What we want, what we will move heaven and earth for is, in the end, a place to call our own, a sanctuary against instability, a home away from change and the uncertainty that dog our lives from day to day. All we want is serenity.' https://t.co/uchXWE17Xn

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 8, 2020

'It all seemed so effortless, so simple to subdue what held so many others at bay. The many monsters others balked at and fled from had all fallen to her in such short order that it seemed silly none had succeeded before her. After all, her great triumph was just to try.' https://t.co/1u6QzEvZ5n

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 8, 2020

'What the winds worry at, what the waters wash away day by day, over endless aeons, reveals the strong stone beneath, carrying off all that cannot resist, leaving only the stubborn bones of the world behind as testament to what once had stood against the gradual grind of time.' https://t.co/wduSbku2im

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 8, 2020

'The field where the fiery sword fell from the fallen god's fist was sacred and hallowed. None lived upon the plain, none sowed crop nor tended flock there, none even approached the titanic and terrifying relic, for nothing could live upon the blight that seeped forth.' https://t.co/gTYYyMxfhW

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 8, 2020

'Far and wide was the word of their wonders spread by wanderers and warriors alike. From sand and rock they had forged their kingdom, where none other would dream of dwelling. Surely their people would rule forever, such was their greatness, such was the majesty of their gods.' https://t.co/HLfn4fxMt7

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 8, 2020

The post Twitter Art Micro-Stories: October 8-14, 2020 first appeared on Hic Sunt Deos.

Twitter Art Micro-Stories: October 1-7, 2020

'Some would say it was a waste to repair these older models, these units so out of date they could barely cope with the world as it had become. Many considered it pointless to restore the broken to life so long after their usefulness. But she still saw something special in them.' https://t.co/DzQ6Z4p2Ik

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 7, 2020

"Raise your glasses in honor of the newly fallen! Another has passed from this world into the inexplicably eternal dying of the all consuming entity at the heart of our galaxy, one of the great and fearsome foes of all of life and reality! Salute the fallen, may we avenge them!" https://t.co/8333hgcCxf

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 7, 2020

'The hala would never win, they all knew. Never had it swallowed the sun or moon without spitting it forth soon after, unable to stomach the light. No, it could never win, it never had. They all laughed at the notion, but with a worried smile and a nervous eye upon the sky.' https://t.co/vS9KSZgZUQ

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 7, 2020

"Time machine? Hell no. Time is immutable. Even if it wasn't, do you have any idea how much energy would be needed to mess with time? The inertia of movement in the fourth dimension toward the future is immense! Insurmountable! No, this just spawns alternate realities." https://t.co/Om5K7qKqXr

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 7, 2020

'The minds of men are wavering and weak, spying dark dangers where none await, conjuring creatures none could conquer from mist and madness. Yes, the timid tremble before false foes, but when true terrors tower above, they freeze in fear, failing to flee, falling to fright.' https://t.co/6U6JcrVmYh

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 7, 2020

'All things pass, and even their traces fade, as if they never were. Yet, the time for mourning is not yet nigh. That long silent drift into the void is not yet upon us nor is it near. Bury not the living before their time. As long as they are within reach they are not yet lost.' https://t.co/qCz0VqH73g

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 6, 2020

'Whispered winds and misty mornings, cascading clouds caressing each crag and crevasse as they swim serenely through the summer skies, awash in colors come to light as the rising sun restores our sight. Every morning magic, every dawning day a delight, an exultation and elation.' https://t.co/TYa5EATBNc

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 6, 2020

"In some ways, being a witch had never been easier. In older times, such a supply would have been impossible, or quite expensive. Now, all she had to do was go to the right markets in town. Oh sure, she had to hide when her predecessors held power, but still, it was easier now. https://t.co/0J9FRCZWf9

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 6, 2020

'He had not slept all night, dreaming of what he would say to his love. Imagining every possible response, weeping for all the forseen times his love spurned him, treasuring the few he was accepted. He had not slept at all last night, or any night at all since he had died.' https://t.co/ok2a28uKY5

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 6, 2020

'The little creature commanded respect far exceeding its stature. No one realized they were giving the diminutive watcher any regard at all, but all kept their distance, knowing better than to tread too close to its domain. It was a vigilant guardian, and kept a wary eye on all.' https://t.co/lsTMie6MOT

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 6, 2020

'No scientist believed it was real as none of them had seen it, and no photo existed. It was only spotted a few times a year and only when the leaves began to all. Sometimes called a Leafer by locals, it was a mystery of the forest. It just seemed to silly a creature to be real.' https://t.co/4ZVyNazew0

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 5, 2020

'This rig had seen him through the apocalypse, with access to all the information he needed, within his armored bunker, a vast array of weapons at his fingertips. He had sweated through the worst of the chaos, safe and alone. Now, he could see no movement outside. Was it safe?' https://t.co/cnRnTiGyu7

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 5, 2020

'Few knew of the cave at the end of the valley. Few lived near enough to know. By day, anyone could come even to the mouth of the cave without fear, but none did, too terrified of what dwelt within. For, by cover of night the howling and wailing beast within flew forth to feast.' https://t.co/uNpFyd1xsL

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 5, 2020

'It had spent countless centuries seeking, searching, collecting its prized possessions, gathering them together in one place to guard over and treasure forever. Yes, it had a hoard, just like any other dragon, but it did not mind lending them to like-minded treasure hunters.' https://t.co/uAsq26tYYq

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 5, 2020

'The cowboy did not know what to make of what he was seeing. The ground throbbed and the clouds cracked with fire and madness as the once buried apparatus arose from its ancient tomb to toil at an unknown task. Scratching his head, the cowboy wondered why it kept eating cattle.' https://t.co/7bPITxGfwS

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 5, 2020

'It had once been a clockwork kingdom, this land of broken rock and shattered rubble. Once a thriving culture of artifice and craft, this hulk, one of the many decaying clockwork demons, was testament to the envy and rivalry that had brought ruin to them all at their zenith.' https://t.co/Rm7kpXzRgr

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 5, 2020

'No one minded the tiny spirits, they were but a natural part of the wilds, like bugs or pollen only less irksome. Every living thing, from the largest tree to the smallest blade of grass had a spirit, each just the right size. Few gave them notice but the spirits were watching.' https://t.co/0TMXzkxMZ8

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 1, 2020

'They knew no fear of man nor beast, even when that fear would be wise. The Glowing Angels were curious by nature, almost affectionate to any they came across in the depths, lighting up when gently embraced to show their fondness for other life. Gentle giants and friends to all.' https://t.co/5cJoRmwbl5

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 1, 2020

'It always falls to the old to maintain the old traditions and the ancient knowledge. The young doubt the deeds and dangers of their elders, discounting terrors as tall tales. So when the old creatures creep forth to hunt once more, it is the old who must be on guard for all.' https://t.co/t01eINthPV

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 1, 2020

'For ages they thought the ancients had built this monument to their gods, to memorialize their perfect protectors calling forth the sun every day. But they were mistaken. This was built not by man, but by their gods, in offering to the sun itself whom they worshiped in turn.' https://t.co/QN2ffT7hQs

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 1, 2020

The post Twitter Art Micro-Stories: October 1-7, 2020 first appeared on Hic Sunt Deos.

Twitter Art Micro-Stories: September 22-30, 2020

https://herebegods.tumblr.com/post/630717237028847616/garrettfest-private-life-why-do-you-keep-plants

'It meant no harm, it knew no consequence to its nature. All the slender silver serpent knew were the comfy clouds and the savage storm that brought the rains. It knew to feed upon the mists and to breath forth the fire that built within, but it knew not the damage it did below.' https://t.co/mcTdXbyPFo

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 30, 2020

'There could be no doubt, the contagion that had culled this world spread from this spot, this shrine to their gods. It had not started here, it had started in a slum thousands of miles away, but here they had plead with their gods, and offered their blood as bounty for a cure.' https://t.co/HunjoMiL66

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 30, 2020

'It would never work. They both knew their love was doomed, they both forgave each other the inevitable abandonment, they both treasured the other's happiness above their own. It would never work, not in the long run, but not all loves need last forever to mean something now.' https://t.co/ZETjVn8wiZ

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 30, 2020

'The early morning rush was over and the midday rush was hours away. This was her favorite part of the day, when all the customers had gone and she could catch some fresh air and enjoy the rush of wind in her hair. The view was never the same, and she would have it no other way.' https://t.co/C5rBw6B6bd

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 30, 2020

"Do you know there are ghosts following you?"
"Yeah, I know."
"I mean, ghosts follow everyone from time to time, but I've never seen so many follow anyone."
"It's alright, I don't mind."
"But… why you?"
"Ghosts like peaceful, stable people, the kind that won't shoo them away." https://t.co/0ABy46u6P0

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 30, 2020

'We sent so many probes to the scrub planet. There was life here, of the most basic forms. Little was suited to the stifling heat and oppressive atmosphere, but there was life here of a sort. We kept sending probes hoping for more but the best we found were simple scrub grasses.' https://t.co/cvccx1oXC9

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 29, 2020

'It dreamed of stars, the stars in the early night sky, that shone bright even in the fading light of day, of the stars unseen except on moonless nights and of the stars that could not be seen by its incredible eyes. Oh how it wished to wander among them, its friends in the sky.' https://t.co/7BzpSjebs4

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 29, 2020

https://herebegods.tumblr.com/post/630601073578639361/erionmakuo-knowledge-twitter-instagram

'We wander this world, with wonder and worry, wanting but warmth and welcome. Seldom do we seek in solitude, yet always to we arrive alone, our understanding unique, our perspective personal. Our companions can comfort and care, but they cannot comprehend the same serenity.' https://t.co/SNcYvq5JoS

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 29, 2020

'There were a few million by now, these grave markers in the mountains, amid streams, along disused and decaying roads, in the middle of remote deserts… Every year there were more monuments to the fallen and forgotten, every year more gods vanished, to be replaced by a pillar.' https://t.co/OWjQA4k9sj

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 29, 2020

'One more shift in the pond, a new week of worries and work before the weekend. The fresh new frogs looked younger with every batch, practically tadpoles. Would it always be like this? Would he just get more weary of the daily swim? Too old to swim away, too young to croak.' https://t.co/Hhi4U1o7mS

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 28, 2020

"No, I get the first part. You drop me off and go distract the old folks, and I grab the seed."
"Yes! The seed! The seed! Grab the seed!"
"Right, but why do I have to jump off the feeder?"
"I catch you! We fly away!"
"But I could fall!"
"No fall! I catch!"
"Can't you just land?" https://t.co/CGNMAI9NiW

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 28, 2020

'The old masters had erected the pillar as a warning, as a barrier to all who would seek to displace them, to know their power and rule in their stead. The pillar had been meant to strike fear, but all it served was as a challenge, a measure all inevitably pass as they rise.' https://t.co/DDXOXOyicM

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 28, 2020

'Water does not wash away the scars or sorrows of the soul. Just one more dip into my own reflection, one more idle dream of drowning the me they all see, and perhaps I can emerge as they all want me to be. No, water does not hold the answer, it cannot wash away their lies.' https://t.co/G0l8uy1FRJ

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 28, 2020

'Hush child, do not cry, there is no danger under dark sky. Hush child, go to sleep, pay no heed to light's slow creep. Close your eyes now and drift away, into nightmare where none can pray. Hush child, stay in bed, ignore the whispers and sleep in dread.' #nurseryrhyme https://t.co/Sdh8jMwS8O

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 28, 2020

'The path to the hollow in the tree was well worn, though few knew why. The hollow in the tree was sacred, though few wondered how. The glow from the tree was swallowed by sunlight in the midday when no one was looking, and no one could see the spirits walking out.' https://t.co/QveMwYQyod

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 27, 2020

'If nothing breaks through the haze for so long, we believe nothing can. Life seems dark, dull, devastated, devoid of color, deprived of light, destitute of all hope or promise of tomorrow. But no trend continues indefinitely, and every darkness is one day pierced by sunshine. ' https://t.co/6Xe6aTkNjP

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 27, 2020

"Why do you keep plants as pets?"
"They give me joy."
"Just by living?"
"Yes. Because I care for them and they thrive. It doesn't matter to my plants how well I'm doing, how rich I am, who I was born… none of that. All they care about is that I tend to them and help them live." https://t.co/DfaYbJvs1M

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 27, 2020

"Make a wish! Make it your heart's desire, your one true dream."
"No tricks?"
"No tricks, just think of your fondest yearning, and it will come true."
"Then I wish… I wish for…"
"Ahhh, I can see it coming to be! You wish for adventure!"
"No… Not adventure… Freedom." https://t.co/1YyKU22Qkv

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 27, 2020

'The old gods do not slumber, the old gods do not dream as the world they created, the world they forged with blood and tears tears itself asunder in fits of violent rage. No, the gods do not idly rest amid all this turmoil, for the gods are dead, and have been for ages.' https://t.co/PgcT1fDJK2

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 27, 2020

'We build whole worlds in our minds, entire societies around notions that we matter, that what we create in the moments we are here means something. But everything falters, everything fades, falling to dust and decay over time. None of it matters unless we make it matter now.' https://t.co/kTUxNBjKQF

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 26, 2020

'Memories are made every evening, at the setting of every sun. All that turn their eyes toward the horizon, heeding the hue of the heavens amid the misty haze are crafting a connection to the past, to this point in time. Some seek such in solitude, others share the sensation.' https://t.co/pWR6628uYI

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 26, 2020

'She had read the profane pages of the past from tomes of terrifying thaumaturgy and recited rituals not meant for human tongues. Her abominable acts had acted upon her, transforming her forever, but she did not wonder if she had gone to far, only how much further she could go.' https://t.co/7Rlyf9RK7V

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 26, 2020

'The waters of the world are wide and deep and almost entirely undelved. So many are surprised by what we wander upon when we look beneath the waves, when we intrude in the isolated abyss and seek out the strangers that have called this world home for far longer than we have.' https://t.co/MzHAQ6G8Xf

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 26, 2020

'Oh how healthy the world tree had been when first the gods arrived, oh how vibrant and verdant the boughs and branches as they spread throughout the void, holding the heavens aloft. The gods had built there homes here, only to watch their beloved tree wither away beneath them.' https://t.co/e0e8OoBajq

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 26, 2020

'Steadfast and strong, vigilant and valiant against all aggressors, the champion stood steady against all onslaughts, a guardian and shield for those without any other succor, a friend to the friendless, a defender of the defamed and denigrated, with colors as pure as any heart.' https://t.co/MMKxERPrX4

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 25, 2020

'The kingdom of the free creatures looked like any other lost landscape, free of the foundations of mankind, without master or monster, where all dwelt and thrived and died without writ or decree. Yes, the land of the free creatures was called a kingdom, yet it crowned no king.' https://t.co/be64bjmu3N

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 25, 2020

'They feared her, feared her power and her unwavering will to wield it against them. They feared correctly, but not for her own power, as potent as it was, but for what she so lightly let loose upon the world to do her bidding, the fiends she rashly freed from their prisons.' https://t.co/dUDMx5EO9w

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 25, 2020

'It was but a bauble, a child's plaything, existing only for the amusement of her daughter, entertaining only as long as she cared give it any attention, to be discarded like all her other favorite toys that came before. Another passing fancy to keep her distracted for a moment.' https://t.co/efVwePrSHJ

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 25, 2020

'Her watchers were more appalled than applauding, but still she was a sensation. Artificial and aware, just her existence marveled and mesmerized, but she could do real magic as well! Sure, it took fusion and fission and was considered a sin, but her conjurations were authentic.' https://t.co/BHi5EhfYEB

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 25, 2020

'It was likely a lie, almost certainly a scam, an imposter, a joke of some other watching and waiting, giggling in glee at her expected foolishness. Sure, it was undoubtedly a jest, but still she sighed and contemplated. After all, it would not be the worst idea she'd tried…' https://t.co/4JVfVFRLH7

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 24, 2020

'A world of ants, of small structures and minor ambitions, that was all they had built. So minor and mundane were their mightiest monuments in the shadow of the forgotten monster, now returning to the lands that had nearly forgotten, that had dismissed it as a myth and a legend.' https://t.co/NLU2EHiZLm

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 24, 2020

'A sly smile and an entrancing eye is all it takes to fluster her foes. A knowing nod and fanciful flourish draws their absorbed attention away from her fleeing friends. She could lay them low but all she desires is to dazzle and distract, disarm and disengage, then disappear…' https://t.co/YBLZzOc5q7

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 24, 2020

'What a world lies without, what wonders to watch through the window, to want and wish to participate and play only to stay locked away, safe for another day. Not trusted to have a say no matter what you pray. Alas, another child cared for, kept close, safe, and certain.' https://t.co/NQd3VqT4hh

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 24, 2020

'What wonders abide in the abyss, some slumbering silently for centuries, maybe millennia, measuring the minutes not by moments but by multitudes. Oh what baneful behemoths are beheld when what awaits awakens, arises, and ascends to their triumphal throne of terror once more.' https://t.co/SZaGFeM1xd

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 24, 2020

'Ever entrancing were the prancing pixies, the dancing denizens of the night, these splendid sprites lighting up the night with languid laughter, each giggle another sparkle amid the trees, each titter a temptation to wander farther from the street and the safety of the city…' https://t.co/FP6BOwix8d

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 23, 2020

'What wonders, what wild creatures dwelt there, beyond the surface of the sea. Oh how the hours would pass just watching those strange creatures of the other side, imagining how their world worked, how they managed such splendors. Above or below, what curious creatures dwelt…' https://t.co/xIfskM44TV

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 23, 2020

'World upon world, from mist and mystery the gods sprang forth, one upon the next, forever standing on the achievements of those that came before. Today it was the wolf god of harmony, tomorrow it would be a lion, or a bear. But far below, it was turtles all the way down.' https://t.co/PdZ3wfqIp6

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 23, 2020

'A rugged world, peopled by rugged pioneers, desperate, dangerous, dirty, and altogether determined to survive no matter the hazards they faced. Most considered them lawless and mean, and they were to a degree, but they were building a far politer society with their sacrifices.' https://t.co/LrGBWBXbTQ

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 23, 2020

'Her home was all that remained here, these many generations since the cataclysm. It had been natural, though those that suffered as the world cracked and buckled beneath them cursed the gods, or cursed her and her magic. Her magics had saved her, and now, she lived here alone.' https://t.co/YWYMdFikdO

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 23, 2020

'She loved books. Each page revealed another wonder, each book another world. She wondered if, late at night when the lights were out, if the books whisper to one another, of the readers they tell their stories to, and of the stories they will tell the next time they are opened.' https://t.co/KAW8TqcyQE

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 22, 2020

'There was magic. They said she was lying, or hallucinating, but she knew it was true. There was magic in the world, magic only she seemed to see. Not always, of course, but upon occasion. All she had to do was let her eyes lose focus and the shiny colors came, then the faeries.' https://t.co/ZX8Md87Rgl

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 22, 2020

'This was a new sort of fish, one she had never seen before. Or perhaps it was a bird, as it seemed to have wings. A little heavy for a bird, but it had been so long since she surfaced, anything was possible. Whatever sort of creature it was, it certainly screamed a lot. ' https://t.co/gZy8uCBfVF

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 22, 2020

'There it was, like always, sitting alone, waiting for him. An old, childhood friend, one he had been convinced he had invented until he got older and heard others make mention of the monster by the river. He still visited, no matter what others said, as his friend was harmless.' https://t.co/GpjwQJabb4

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 22, 2020

'It was wrong, she knew. It was not right to sit alone in the darkness of her own shattered life, to pine away for happier days, when life meant so much more. In truth, she still felt joy inside, trapped by the sadness that overwhelmed her each day, trying to break free of her.' https://t.co/rWtidvTKTb

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 22, 2020

The post Twitter Art Micro-Stories: September 22-30, 2020 first appeared on Hic Sunt Deos.

Twitter Art Micro-Stories: September 15-21, 2020

'Every day is an opportunity. So often we are told that the next day is our moment, that tomorrow we will win, but every day is now, and we cannot wait for our moment to arrive, we cannot let life simply happen. Every day is chance to take, the moment for us to make our own.' https://t.co/h4iDmXNc18

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 21, 2020

'So often we forget that tragedy is transient, that no storm stays forever. With each loss and languish, there will ever be the dawning of a day when the clouds retreat, the shadows lift, and joy nd light shine through once more. We just need to hold onto hope until that day.' https://t.co/wmfzz969yi

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 21, 2020

'For days, no, months had she waited, for months she had masqueraded, biding her time for the right moment, for the perfect opportunity to strike, to cut down the tyrant that had oppressed them all for so long. For too many years had they all waited for her to act and end him.' https://t.co/WNmOE20QQ2

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 21, 2020

'Tides of terror, foam and fire flashing from fantail to fore! What wailing amid the whip of the waves, cannonade cascading from corvette to corsair, cutting and casting both crew and craft from detonating deck to dark depths below! The devil would have the damned due this day.' https://t.co/2XxXWN8end

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 21, 2020

'She had not chosen this life, no one chooses this life. No one wants to be hunted or haunted by blood spilled or souls shattered. She had not chosen the cruelty nor castigation put upon her and prosecuted by her in turn. She had not chosen but it was her life, her life to rule.' https://t.co/7p3dtl2LED

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 21, 2020

'Echos from the emptiness, sounds within silence, the night is terror to those without sound or sight. One step looks much like the next, and all the trees seem the same in the snows. Spheres within circles, and the hunter awaits, watching for the moment all the circles close.' https://t.co/WAsEkLhhr1

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 20, 2020

'The warrior of her people, their champion in the face of danger, she was their shield against invader and tyrant alike. Long had she trained in the craft of her forerunners, diligent were her drills, true was her oath to ancestors and clan. She might fall, but only by fighting.' https://t.co/st7YRJLamS

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 20, 2020

'They stood about him, terrified, transfixed, tamed. There was no resisting, there was no protesting, no other choice to be had in the presence of the god. No spear was raised, no scream or shout, no howl, no growl, all creatures great or small cowered in worship and in peace.' https://t.co/KVoqTKnCM9

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 20, 2020

'There lies the crossroads before you. You can go no further forward and you cannot retreat. What lies behind is no longer and what lies beyond is an illusion, never to be real. You must choose a path, to one side or the other, you must choose or be doomed to stand here forever.' https://t.co/aooYNt1uMM

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 20, 2020

'Solemn, serene, surrounded by soft clouds and sylvan valleys, the solitary peak with its snow covered slopes is the silent soul of the land. Storms break on its sides, streaming water to the world below. Once terrible to behold, never to rumble again, the dead stone gives life.' https://t.co/TYa5EBbdbM

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 20, 2020

'Everything can feel so empty when linger at the edge of eternity, staring of into the open abyss, wondering about meanings that may not matter. Perspective can bring panic or it can bring peace. Yes, life can be lonesome, but do not linger on the longing and miss out on living.' https://t.co/lMrKbpGHG5

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 19, 2020

'What below creeps and clacks, in the hidden rifts and cracks, searching and digging and wriggling and scratching about, probing and scraping and hunting for a way out. Sleep soundly tonight, if you may, and dream of a world where what moves below never finds the way.' https://t.co/UrfyOk8iKo

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 19, 2020

'Such sorrow and sadness when one's offspring sets out, seeking something beyond their beginnings. Some parents struggle, stopping such sojourns, shackling their scions to their own expectations and ends. But good parents free their children to seek their own fortunes and fates.' https://t.co/wcAgmItzqS

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 19, 2020

'He was not worried about the waters. He should have been shocked and terrified that morning to discover the gentle waves lapping at his lanai, but somehow the unnatural seemed natural, dreamlike and serene. So he settled down to sketch, to draw what he saw swimming in the sea.' https://t.co/yJuXUlM9Wf

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 19, 2020

'By midnight sun and mounting mists they would sail, by wandering wave in wicked waters they would venture, ever onward, ever outward, their quest for new lands and new glories. On such scanty ships to survive each squall, they swept across seas, bringing fire and fear to all.' https://t.co/NsGTEGbdaG

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 19, 2020

'Perhaps today he would find another hulk. It had been a decade since that great haul, one he had discovered. It had been floating listlessly amid the mountains, covered in perpetual clouds. Since there had been some work, on larger salvages. Perhaps his luck would change.' https://t.co/dfxVpWU0LJ

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 18, 2020

'She was not a base beast, some serpent of the soil, nor scavenger of the skies. Truth be told, she was not of this world, not native to the tooth and tear that ruled here, but she had been summoned, and so sought out her seeker, to see what strange sorcerer this world supplied.' https://t.co/xlFeCX7Ioa

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 18, 2020

'He had not long been a god. Not long ago, he had been just another creature of the forests, another small scurrying survivor, seeking shelter in the scrub from those who would kill and destroy. Now he was a guardian of the garden, a warden of the wild, a protector of prey.' https://t.co/aaU7tYYdcm

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 18, 2020

Silent standing stones, staid sentinels of sward and stream, Beacons, barriers, and boundaries between the banal and the beyond. Step softly with caution, dear stranger, near the lines of ley, lest they take notice and interest, and summon forth those that live beyond the grey.' https://t.co/QBxcncPi3E

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 18, 2020

'It dwelt in fire. It ate fire. It was fire. Nothing about the life it lived was natural. Born from flowing flame, from the bowels of a burning world, brought forth by occult incantations and curses upon the gods themselves, the fire fiend seemed fearsome, yet bothered none…' https://t.co/8XmXwsSu1X

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 18, 2020

'Ever so little this sweat drop of succor for ever so small a serpent was she. Elfin and adorable, and of little threat to most, it would be easy to laugh and overlook such a cute and cuddly creature, but though frail and fragile in this form, the firedrake would grow one day…' https://t.co/mvoj0gSzrM

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 17, 2020

'With an eye on the twisting, twirling maelstrom he was summoning, and another on the page that would not stay still, the author smiled, imagining new worlds every instant. Perhaps, he thought, a little more chaos here, a tad less order there. Yes, that would enliven the story!' https://t.co/IhWNffgnWg

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 17, 2020

'The bone queen and her kingdom struck fear with their fashions. Considered perverse and macabre, they stood apart, a seemingly cursed clan, worshipers of death. And yet, they wore the remains of their enemies not in pride, but for protection, to ward off even greater evils…' https://t.co/t78wrTgNdO

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 17, 2020

'Neither hunters nor hunted, these strange stilted scavengers, sifting through the silt and sediment of the swamp. They lived apart, unbothered their neighbors, left alone, more from fear than respect. Theirs was a solitary life, of sifting and searching. For what, nobody knew.' https://t.co/v7N1aF4Ajw

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 17, 2020

'What… what was he…? He was man! No! He was… had been man. Now… something else, something strange, something altogether alien. Every moment, another emotion, another sense he had not known before. Every instant he was something else, something new, something sickening…' https://t.co/lh53aDliix

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 17, 2020

'Mighty and majestic, the mare of the mare, the steed of sand and sea, knew no fear of man nor beast. What they could not fight, they could flee, at home both on land and sea. Though many men tried, and died, to capture and tame the kelpie, it would forever be free.' https://t.co/VaJrtZHBHc

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 16, 2020

'It was so strange, so absurd. She was the goddess of all natural life but her adherents worshiped her, not in old high places nor in sacred groves or streams, but in highly artificed temples, in sanctuaries of stone and silence, far from the wilds she ruled. So… unnatural….' https://t.co/oMfTCMEHFR

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 16, 2020

'It was unnatural in the eyes of the living, yet the stonefount had existed long before life first swam the seas. While new beasts walked and new birds flew the changing skies, the stonefount sprouted flat slabs, freshly formed, one each to mark the passing of another age.' https://t.co/sx4IYY7Ewn

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 16, 2020

'It was here they learned new languages, not of other races, not of long forgotten ancient species that once called their world home. No, these were the languages of the universe itself, what some called magic, what others called science, new tongues to speak forth wonders.' https://t.co/FkEtULoaJu

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 16, 2020

'Archeology was an ill-funded field, as always. It had taken centuries to secure the means for even this small dug, even with the fame of the site. Still, they were here now, ready to unseal the secrets of a mysterious temple of an ancient species, and learn why they vanished…' https://t.co/W1JdRAUjDB

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 16, 2020

"Oh look, a new message!"
"Yes, it looks important."
"Ooh, old parchment! And silk strings and bows! It must be very important indeed!"
"I wonder who it's from? It must be from far away, considering the bird."
"Yes, I haven't seen one of those in ages!"
"Let's see who it's for." https://t.co/9eDiMGnYwj

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 15, 2020

'They did not hunt him, for he was a great hunter like them. With sharp teeth from afar or long claws in hand, he could hunt with the best of them, often better. But they did not follow him because he was a great hunter. No, they followed him because he was kind, fair, and just.' https://t.co/UOxyd8ZVZz

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 15, 2020

'The beacon of the hidden valley was the last, the final remnant of the greatest dominion ever to hold sway over land or sea. The tower still stood where all others had fallen over ages of war and neglect. It would stand forever so long as man remained outside the hidden valley.' https://t.co/P5RWFl4Q7B

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 15, 2020

'Do you dream when you sleep? Or do you swim among stars in slumber, in stellar seas swirling amid the vast shadows of the endless abyss? When you dream, do you dream of darkness, or do your eyes alight with wonder and fright, in visions of the impossible and a future yet to be?' https://t.co/lm4BE13v9B

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 15, 2020

'Some say crystals are alive, some say they form, flourish, and fade away in the span of aeons, while lesser life exists only an instant in in their time. So slow, so sedate do they spring forth that few notice when a crystal matures, even when they ignite with malice…' https://t.co/CA8hqV7NSO

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 15, 2020

The post Twitter Art Micro-Stories: September 15-21, 2020 first appeared on Hic Sunt Deos.

The Soma Posts

'"Do you see lights rising up from the ridge-line?"
They looked at him in shock, backing away in horror. "Oh no… Your time has come! Only the damned see the lights! They'll be here soon!"
He stammered in fright, but they were already chanting. Then he saw the white horses…' https://t.co/puTIJ0arWa

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) July 1, 2020

'No one knew why it was there. No one knew what it was for. There was no city here, not even settlements. The tower stood alone. Many came to see it, to study it, to dream of it, and when they went away, their dreams remained. Little did they know, their dreams were the tower.' https://t.co/l3usRDvY4L

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) June 30, 2020

'There is trade between gods and men. Men would pray and gods would bless. It had always been that way. It is why their city thrived, or so the lords of the city always told their subjects. Yet the subjects prayed as well, seeking something far different in trade from the gods.' https://t.co/4SOLXltkul

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) June 30, 2020

"The silence shattered with a million gasps! The clouds were parting, the darkness receding, the sun they thought they'd never see again but as a dim haze above, emerged from beyond the gloom! The pharos was alive once more! Hope and light had returned to the world at last!" https://t.co/WPv2Klqmpq

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) June 30, 2020

'Few walk the land of the dragons. There is no need. Few creatures can live and nothing grows in this remote region. Some brave souls come every so often to challenge themselves and learn their worth. Few walk the land of the dragons, but many that should be feared fly.' https://t.co/pIGfFHs3V0

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) June 25, 2020

'The rider did not, could not, look up for fear they would notice. The guardians of old were jealous of the path to the temple of truth. None had dared venture there since they took up watch. But the terrified rider kept toward the temple. Someone had to try to learn the truth.' https://t.co/YpeCCJyUa6

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) June 25, 2020

"They had been an empire once. The relics of a glorious past served as a reminder of their lost power. Grand structures, crumbling away with the ages, the memories of their reign fading away with the features on every edifice. Their life was simple now, simple, small, serene…." https://t.co/xdELtLK9VR

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) June 23, 2020

"Far from the gleaming cities with their teaming crowds, far from the grand cathedrals and grander monuments to the glories and triumphs of civilization, the isle of the wilds sits in solitude. Few frequent its shores or worship at its sacred shrine. Far too few feel so free." https://t.co/sahksADrbw

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) June 23, 2020

'The Temple of the Missing Gods existed before the faiths of today. When it was built, there were many more gods than now, each with their own temples and followers. But gods rise and fall and every generation there are less than before. The Temple was ancient, and full of gods.' https://t.co/57Q3XCtBt4

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) June 19, 2020

The house loomed on the hill above, casting pools of eerie green light and darker shadows in the gloom about her. Turning to her companion, she asked, "Is that it? Is that the house you warned me about? The house of evil?"
"No, that is the home of the one who holds it at bay." https://t.co/d8M3sdWq96

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) June 11, 2020

"They all looked up, toward the horizon, following the movement of the birds above. They all looked, silent, reverent. Today was a rare day, one of the few days they ever caught sight of the old tower. An age ago, it was their strength. Now, it was a memory, seldom seen." https://t.co/ymYU2lKBLq

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) May 25, 2020

"No matter how dark the night got, no matter what the blight blotted all about, the tower stood alone, aloft, aloof. It was never stained in the sins of the simple, it was never tainted by the corrupting touch of life, but only because the tower never deigned to become involved."

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) June 5, 2020

'The kingdom was a quiet realm. They had little their neighbors envied and far off lands knew them not. Nestled among high mountains, their land was untroubled by the ills of the world, serene in its solitude. It had lasted for ages, stable, staid, and supremely insignificant.' https://t.co/5eO3XKrlgo

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) July 31, 2020

'All knew nature reclaims what mankind forgets. The trees return and the waters run clean once more. The bricks and stones that once were so carefully crafted and assembled to the will of man, crumble to dust over time. True, man might return, but for now, nature reigns supreme.' https://t.co/5cEjdyXxm9

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) July 30, 2020

'Few knew about the source of life and where it could be found. So very few had ever seen the spring from which all life arose, the stream that still fed the spirit of the world, the river of all hopes and dreams, so very few knew and they were determined to keep it that way.' https://t.co/W6DP53tk9A

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) July 29, 2020

'They were calling down the wrath of the gods, so it was said in muttered curses when they erected the spire. They were shunned, feared, hated for their work, but they were never trying to taunt the gods. When the spire worked and free energy flowed, they became gods among men.' https://t.co/KfJYWxd1jd

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) July 29, 2020

'The monks of the mistborn temple were skilled at many things, this was born from the many times they were separated by snows and slides that choked the passes for decades at a time. They were revered as masters of many crafts, but the one prized above all was how they brewed.' https://t.co/UheHVR7sT0

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) July 28, 2020

'There was no question who was king in this land, no question and no quarrel. The lord was terrifying and solitary, the subjects timid yet thriving. Though they duly feared their sovereign, they lived in peace. The dragon hunted elsewhere, and no threat intruded upon their home.' https://t.co/l0Wbz1wRKo

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) July 27, 2020

'When they emerged from the places yet untouched by man, they seemed like a dream, the sort you never awake from. The fighting was desperate and unmerciful on both sides. This was a war of survival and all knew it. The last battle between nature and man would be waged with fire.' https://t.co/YhONmuEpZd

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) July 26, 2020

'The people of the village always celebrated when the ships departed. Their children were on those ships, their cousins worked in the grand world-port, the one that had transformed their world into a nexus of civilization. Their village was a small, but vital part of the galaxy.' https://t.co/tKHQeEw80K

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) July 22, 2020

'The tower was not made by man nor beast. Some said the gods shaped it, some said the waves. Others believed that only demons of the depths could have erected such a sinister structure to dominate the coast. No one really knew, but all swore the light it gave was not natural.' https://t.co/V4Df1G0Rs6

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) July 20, 2020

'Within the shell of a dead mountain, within the walls of the earth itself, they built a house, safe and sound. No matter the raging storms of the world without, the rocks and bricks would protect those inside, sheltered and secure in their own little world within the world.' https://t.co/gJk1hw0DbO

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) July 15, 2020

'The trees and grasses came back after the deluge. There was so much more fertile soil to take hold upon. The old land had been swept away, but the plants adapted and seized upon new deposits and new opportunities, forging a fresh new land, bringing life back after the flood.' https://t.co/lc4yabgNhi

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) July 14, 2020

"There wasn't always two moons."
"You're nuts."
"No! I swear! The truly ancient texts speak of only one moon!"
"Then when did the second appear?"
"No one knows, but there's a gap in the texts of thousands of years, of no writings at all. What I fear, is the arrival of a third…" https://t.co/wZCwHopcdQ

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) July 14, 2020

'Over hundreds of years the path was worn into the ancient stone. Not by purpose, but by a million weary travelers walking up and over the shortest path, by a million tired souls, resting upon the rock as they paused to catch their breath at the top. Now, no one remembered how.' https://t.co/th6Us2Xb30

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) July 13, 2020

'Not long ago, one could ford the river, not long ago, this was an undivided land where the river flowed freely below the ancient mountains. Not long ago, there was no gorge, not long ago by the reckoning of the stars. Yet that was a time before the first man, not so long ago…' https://t.co/mPnIY3Wwnq

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) July 13, 2020

'The old god was at rest. Many thought him dead. Then, many thought him a legend. Then, many thought of him no more. The old god sat, still and silent through the ages, pondering the passage of time in the movement of the waves. Asag would watch the tides and storms forevermore.' https://t.co/7mG0A3nrao

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) July 13, 2020

'The world was new, volatile, fractured and unsettled. Nothing stayed the same for long. Colossal plumes of gas erupted upon the shattered plains, thrusting jagged shards of crumbling rock up from below. No life could survive this hellscape. But, life had never known this world.' https://t.co/d0dOfuYCTU

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) July 13, 2020

'Lush was the valley below the great peak, filled with all manner of creature and plant thriving among the cold waters. The summer melt brought the waters and the bloom of trees and grass fostered life in the valley for another year. The mountain was dead, but gave forth life.' https://t.co/vKOmPnZ88n

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) July 11, 2020

'The storm was coming. They all knew it. The birds and the lords of the sky sought refuge at the heart of the gathering tempest, circling, on guard, ready to flee the moment the winds shifted. They all knew the storm was coming, but none knew what would be left once it was gone.' https://t.co/p7B0w5Fziy

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) July 10, 2020

'It took ages, but the portal was built. It took another age for the people of the doomed world to filter through to the other side, a refuge from their dying lands. The portal stood alone and silent on the dead world. One day it lit up and refugees started to return…' https://t.co/lCMwxHz7zH

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) July 10, 2020

'It was a long and difficult climb to make an offering to the god of the summit, but every week he would make the journey with thanks in his heart.. Little by little, his fortunes fell and his people died away, but still he sacrificed. Surely, persistence would pay off some day.' https://t.co/0Q44Yl6FkK

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) July 7, 2020

'Gods, giants, wizards, wyrms, dragons, and demons, all had created the hidden rift valley in the old stories. None knew how it came to be. In truth, it did not matter. Those that settled in the concealed chasm led peaceful, prosperous lives, hidden away from the wider world.' https://t.co/S76xHNh8WB

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) July 7, 2020

'In the chapel of the vale, there are but few parishioners. The path to the place of worship is treacherous for those who know where it lies. Yet, no matter how few come to pray in the lonely sanctuary, none are turned away for want of wealth. The chapel is a refuge for all…' https://t.co/g5CHsMmR4y

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) July 6, 2020

'The songs started at dawn. The haunting wails of the creature wafted across the land as it slid through the air, but none paid it anymore mind than they did the birds or bees. No one knew what they were, but no harm had come in the millennia since they arrived, so none cared…' https://t.co/1Xbhvbz091

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) July 6, 2020

"T'was late in the season, the roads were slick with ice. T'was late in the season, the streams had ceased their flow. It was late in the season, his cart was full of spice. T'was late in the season, he made to race the snow. T'was late in the season, the risk worth the price…" https://t.co/zaYcUFZxa7

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) July 6, 2020

'There was a window in the canopy. It was not much, but it was large enough to let the light in. The surrounding trees were too distant to spread into the gap and the ground below would not bear any more than grasses and brush. In this gap the small bushes grew their flowers.' https://t.co/p54UaYuDuj

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 7, 2020

'The storm was gathering. Everyone could see it, everyone could smell it, everyone could feel the changing of the wind and the growing chill of the tempest soon to erupt upon their land. Some prayed, some fled, some hid as best they could. There was no escaping what was to come.' https://t.co/ejFnBHD8RT

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 6, 2020

'The dominions of man are vast and magnificent, at least to the minds of men. But the beasts of the field and air care little for the mighty walls of the cities nor the spires reaching for the sky. Let man have his kingdoms, the wilds will always belong to untamed creatures.' https://t.co/kzUwHPIbAL

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 4, 2020

'The behemoth was walking slowly now, its steps sluggish, its mind seeking naught but sleep. It was almost there now, it was almost done treading the tundra. It only had a few steps farther to lie down with the bones of its father and its father's father, and then it could rest.' https://t.co/07tavSmFit

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 4, 2020

'The hulks had been there forever, longer than his species, longer than any life on his world. Some had feared the relics of another world, some had worshiped them. He was here to strip pieces away, to demolish the past to build the future. They would not be there forever.' https://t.co/kqPaQn4bdg

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 2, 2020

''This… was not a safe place. No idle wanderer should dare venture unprepared into these wilds, these unexplored realms of times long forgotten and creatures long feared. No, this was no place for any but the best and the bravest to venture. Such as her. She was in no danger.' https://t.co/VO5uA9BNSt

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 15, 2020

'She was not their mother, she was not their maiden, but the drakes would not harm her. She came among them not as protector nor as prey, but the fierce hunters of the sky posed her no danger. She was their friend from childhood, and they considered her one of them, a sister.' https://t.co/NI9S6XLbNl

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 15, 2020

'It seemed too good to be true, this hiding place in the middle of the metropolis. It seemed far too special and secret amidst the tussle and toil of the sprawl of city soaring overhead. Yet, here beneath the bridges stood a nest for nature and the small of body and big of mind.' https://t.co/QFhSKb3P8A

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 13, 2020

'The mighty mountains of mist were famous. All knew and stood in awe of the soaring white pillars, piercing the cloudy sky and shifting the storms themselves. Yet, what men had always known as majestic peaks were but the worn skeletons of grander, taller ranges from long ago.' https://t.co/6vpgzCfsoF

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 13, 2020

'The world at his fingertips. With the merest of whispers the mightiest might cease to be, with the faintest of flickering fingertips he could unmake the whole of existence or summon forth another in its place. Yet even as mighty as he was he could not conjure himself a purpose.' https://t.co/vM87gvzwD2

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 11, 2020

'The small trees and shrubs had fallen into darkness, as is natural. Their taller neighbors soon eclipsed them and grew out of sight, leaving them to languish and die out, as is natural. But even giants die eventually, and new light meant new life for those in the right place.' https://t.co/EPFA6Rcc0E

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 10, 2020

'This was but one of the conduits of power in the world, one of thousands spread amid the ceaseless snows that had taken hold so long ago. It burned brightly, but had begun to flicker and fade with age. Soon, the flame within would flutter and die out, and the snows would grow.' https://t.co/9pLCnT5sb5

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 9, 2020

'Their neighbors never understood them, but then their neighbors never came to their happy valley. From terror and ignorance, all left the small community alone, cut off from the outside world, content to live in tranquility and peace with their fearsome dragons in isolation.' https://t.co/9S8mq9hAu0

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 8, 2020

'It was a wizard's grave, the grave of the last wizard to ever live. They had forged a world of wonder and of terrifying magnificence, but they had forgotten their own limitations in the forming and the magic of the world had strained and cracked, and the world crumbled with it.' https://t.co/SmHhm97Hfb

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 21, 2020

'Storms often broke upon the spire, built for far fiercer forces than mere turbulent weather. Or so they thought. Never had this land seen such a storm as was unfolding, and they were soon to learn that siege engines and grand dragons are not the worst the world could summon.' https://t.co/7nMvOlVT0j

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 21, 2020

'The nightbeast would not give ground until the sun's rays first struck. Until then all held their ground and braced for each attack, each attempt to drive them from its lands. They had come to give battle to the brute and they would sustain what losses they must to see it dead.' https://t.co/cX61bwjm2n

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 20, 2020

'Always in awe, always his breath taken away whenever he reached the valley of the rivers of mist. The birds knew no master in this domain, and only goats ever dared descend, but still men came to the valley, some from wonder, some from boredom. He came to worship nature.' https://t.co/slUJgd0NxY

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 19, 2020

'Dragons, why was it always dragons? Why couldn't his kingdom be plagued upon occasion by something simpler, like dire-wolves or wights? He would kill to have to kill a lich lord or a zombie horde. But no, it had to be dragons, day in, day out. He was weary of slaying dragons…' https://t.co/JzPMs21IfB

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 19, 2020

'Like so many over the ages, they knew not how to survive their own folly. Indeed, they would very likely perish this day at the hand of their own hubris. Yet, like so many over the ages, they had felt the risk justified for the chance of great glory, at a chance at greatness.' https://t.co/ngRbZIVr9K

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 19, 2020

'They would wander the skies for hours, swooping in and out of clouds, playing with the winds and hiding from the sunlight as a game. 'They were not hunting, they were not traveling, they were not seeking. They were simply flying to fly, and they could wander the skies forever.' https://t.co/xgD1Rcd3EV

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 27, 2020

'"How does the moon stay in the sky? Why does it not fall and crush us all?"
Such were the questions of the young and the foolish. Such were the questions of men of old, in the times before science and the study of the heavens. For, you see, that was no moon. They were the moon.' https://t.co/jt7iJv49I1

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 26, 2020

'Once, long ago, they had been a threat, a fierce and fearsome foe that threatened to hunt and kill until none were left. But at the height of their power, the balance shifted, and now they posed no danger at all. Now, the towers in the sky stood monument to the last of mankind.' https://t.co/c3mmXM1sfy

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 25, 2020

'They lived in he legacy of a once great empire. Their little community had never been a major power in the realm, never more than a remote outpost in a distant corner, but they had inherited the knowledge and expertise of their once glorious overlords, which kept them secure.' https://t.co/VauC72TxHs

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 24, 2020

'The winds of winter, the white wights of the callous cold, whipping down from frozen mountains and glaciers, whirling through gouge and vale driving both heat and hope from the land, denying the life and light from all who do not flee, to all who would cower! The storm is here!' https://t.co/rGPPL1og54

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 6, 2020

'Oh the languid haze of the days, when the ease and laze of the misty greys kept the sky in a glaze of smoke and haze, when all live in a daze. Alas but a furtive phase, before the sun's rays would raze and raise the haze to reveal the herds that graze along the ways.' https://t.co/V4BqzEjs3A

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 2, 2020

'Oh how the mortals trembled, oh how the craven cowered beneath the specter in the sky! Haunting and hateful and horrid to behold, the spectral omen loomed ominously over their lives, and all mortals obeyed. Odd that it never struck, but there was no need. Fear alone ruled them.' https://t.co/8lSW5ciJHq

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 1, 2020

'The first ten thousand had been the true test of his rise to power, the true trial of strength and discipline. The first ten thousand petty kingdoms to fall to his blade and the furious fire of his steed had been the hardest. The next ten thousand would fall far faster.' https://t.co/9rU5GV9N6g

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 14, 2020

'Three towers, three lords, three laws. For ages the three ruled all, and for aeons all bowed head and bent knee in service to the three. But three is an unnatural number of masters, and the world could not serve such forever. Now, the natural order and freedom were returning…' https://t.co/rYSKlGncli

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 14, 2020

'Winters wax and winters wane, every year, again and again, but every fresh frost and freeze, ever sooner did winter seize, ice and snow assailing fields, every year grew smaller yields. Someday soon, this land will wither, and winter will come and stay forever.' https://t.co/x9T4I7EJPE

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 10, 2020

'Picturesque, pastoral, peaceful… The land of the three had known little but prosperity these past centuries, an abundance of art and an acculturation of all who called these lands home. There was a price for this peace, oh yes, but it was paid far away in other lands…' https://t.co/UUbZ3mKSK7

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 8, 2020

'The beacon of the hidden valley was the last, the final remnant of the greatest dominion ever to hold sway over land or sea. The tower still stood where all others had fallen over ages of war and neglect. It would stand forever so long as man remained outside the hidden valley.' https://t.co/P5RWFl4Q7B

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 15, 2020

'Solemn, serene, surrounded by soft clouds and sylvan valleys, the solitary peak with its snow covered slopes is the silent soul of the land. Storms break on its sides, streaming water to the world below. Once terrible to behold, never to rumble again, the dead stone gives life.' https://t.co/TYa5EBbdbM

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 20, 2020

The post The Soma Posts first appeared on Hic Sunt Deos.