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does the fantasy world have to be smth I write/imagine or like sm authors' like a fanfic??
Mod
Strange Times - Time - 6:00
I am lost.
As of now I am in some place called a library. It seems to be a place that holds a modernised version of scrolls given the title of ‘books’. I must show the alchemist when I get back.
If I get back.
Time - 8:00
I finally found some strangely dressed men to ask for help but when I went to ask them, they ignored me. Another couple looked at me as though I was the one who was wronged and not them.
Finally, one man listened to my desperate pleas. “You askin’ for a role in Shakesphere?” The man laughed.
“No please,” I beg, “I am the princess of the king of the Kingdom of Savernture.”
“Nice one kid.”
“Where are the royal guards? They can help me. Or the courts. Take me to the courts!”
“Look kid,” The man glanced at some strange contraption on his wrists, “the show was great but I’ve gotta go now. Hope you get the role!” The man walked off in an odd stride, leaving me stranded and hopeless.
Time - 12:00
That was when I realised how lost I truly am. Stuck in a strange world with strange men and strange things, if only my dearest alchemist was here. He would know what to do. Oh, how my heart longs for him in these desperate times.
Mod
~December Gloom~The frosty air nips my heels
My heart remains unthawed
I am most dreadfully in my feels
Due to a love most flawed
Home at last, the fireplace embers
Splutter and start to die
I strive my utmost to remember
How to maintain alive
Her crimson hair, her dashing smile
Are burned into my mind
Her sparkling eyes made it all worthwhile
I see them perpetually; in time
My ballad-making is flimsy,
My romances all the weaker
I was just looking for some whimsy
Instead I became too serious a seeker
Of love in the winter season
Up against the chilly gales
I ignored the signs of treason
And for that became more frail
I tried my best to love her
Alas, she froze me with her breath
Now I do my best to smother
The sweet susurration of death
Ps. This is completely made up and not based off of real events!! I’ve never written a ballad poem so pls keep this in mind…it is meant to be a little unserious!!
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1p...The inspiration for this came when I was reading a science-y article. There was a headline after it that said, “Kid Asks Santa for One of His Elves”. After seeing that I decided to write this. The Christmas-elves-are-made-in-a-lab-by-Mrs.-Claus was something that came to me while I was writing and I just had to add it in there. Honestly, I was surprised that I didn’t mind the idea of other people reading this; usually I’m terrified about people reading my writing, but this was short so I guess that might be why.
Journal Entry of Lyra Sylvain
Date Unknown, Realm Unknown
I am not sure how this parchment has survived the chaos of the past few hours, but here I sit, pen trembling in hand, trying to capture this unfathomable day.
I woke this morning in Aeloria, under the cerulean canopy of the Verdant Glade, where the trees hum melodies only the heart can hear. My people, the Celestine, are attuned to nature’s breath, to magic’s pulse. The air shimmered with familiar enchantment, and I prepared for a day of studying the Arcane Codex, as I always do.
But then—a tear. A *rift.*
It was as though the sky fractured, spilling a torrent of blinding light. Before I could steady my mind to cast a protective ward, I was yanked from the glade. My body felt like it was stretched thin across the stars, and when I opened my eyes again, the world had transformed into… chaos.
I stood amidst towering stone structures—too uniform to be natural but devoid of any magic’s grace. Below my feet was a strange gray ground, harder than the most ancient mountain peaks of Aeloria. These lands were alive, but not with spirit or song. Instead, the air roared with monstrous, box-like creatures speeding along blackened pathways. Their growls were deafening, though the people milling about seemed unbothered.
Humans—they are what our loremasters speak of when recounting the “Land of the Lost Magics.” But they were nothing like the poetic descriptions of yore. These humans clutched strange glowing rectangles, staring at them as though they contained secrets of the cosmos. Some walked briskly, heads bowed, while others barked at each other in tongues I could barely comprehend.
I wandered cautiously, clutching my charmstone, which now felt oddly dull. Without the faintest trace of mana to guide me, I felt… powerless. Vulnerable. A lone child approached, tugging at her mother’s sleeve and pointing to me.
“Look, Mommy! A fairy!” she cried.
A fairy? I suppose my silken robes and luminescent hair might seem otherworldly here, but how could they mistake me for something so diminutive? Before I could respond, the mother yanked the child away, muttering something about “cosplay.”
I stumbled onward, the alien world growing no kinder. I stepped into a structure labeled “Coffee Shop” (though its aroma bore no resemblance to any brew I’ve ever encountered). There, I encountered a being who asked for “my order.” When I replied that I sought guidance, she raised a brow and muttered something about needing “decaf.”
How these humans thrive without magic is a riddle I may never solve. Their lights shine without enchantments; their machines hum without incantations. It is miraculous in its own right, yet so profoundly empty. Their world feels like an unrequited love—vivid, teeming with life, yet withholding the magic that would let it speak back.
As the sun set, the chaos quieted slightly. I found solace in a park—perhaps the one place in this strange realm that echoed faintly of Aeloria. The trees here were humble, unknowing of magic, but they whispered to me nonetheless. I sat on a bench, watching humans stroll by, laughing and holding hands. For all their strangeness, they share our joys and sorrows. They live without the touch of magic, but they create their own wonder.
I do not know if I will ever return to Aeloria. The rift has closed, and my charmstone is silent. But if I am to remain here, I will learn. For perhaps there is magic in this world, too—not in its stones or skies, but in its people.
For now, I will rest beneath these stars, which are strange yet familiar, and hope that I may find my place in this curious, bustling world.
- Lyra Sylvain
The Throne of WinterThe wind is a dagger, sharp and cold,
It cuts through the land, relentless, bold.
The rivers are shackled in crystal chains,
Bound to the queen where silence reigns.
Her crown is frost, her scepter, snow,
Her breath is death where wild things grow.
The earth lies still, the sky turns gray,
And all must yield to her frozen sway.
No flame can burn, no heart can fight,
Her touch consumes, her endless night.
She bends the world with an iron hand,
A kingdom forged from an ashen land.
But deep in the dark, a whisper stirs,
A soft rebellion beneath the firs.
A seed of fire, a spark of life,
Defies her cold and cuts her strife.
Her storms may roar, her ice may bind,
But seasons turn and leave her behind.
The sun will rise, the frost will fall,
And Spring will answer Winter’s call.
Her throne will break, her crown will fade,
Her empire lost to the light’s parade.
For though she’s mighty, she cannot stay—
No queen of frost outlasts the day.
Mod
oh, hang on, I will just copy and paste it. Sorry, I don't know how to fix it
Diary Entry of Jaren VallentisAfter hours of blinding light and freezing cold, Jaren is unceremoniously plonked into a pitch-black, still-freezing room. He wonders where he is and why he was suddenly plucked out of his bed in the middle of the night. He worries for Kiva: Is she still safe? Is she still in the Vallentis Palace?
Then, shaking himself off, he decides to explore. Using his elemental fire magic, he lights the room and instantly sees a doorway about two hundred metres in front of him. Slowly, he walks over to it, cautiously. He notices that the door is tightly sealed shut and goes to open it. Slowly, ever so slowly, he twists the knob, feeling the cool metal under his fingers. Then, more blinding light as he gets pulled through the door. Colours whirled, and eldritch noises sounded in his ears, horrible screaming eerie noises. This made him shut off the fire magic and clutch his ears as they felt like they were burning.
Suddenly, he again gets unceremoniously dumped into a room. No, not a room, a large desert-looking place. Tourists are milling everywhere, speaking in a language that he doesn’t understand. Worried, he looks around and sees a large triangular shape in the distance, a pyramid. It is made out of sand and millions of people are looking at it and taking photos. What is this place? Jaren wonders, as a strange figure appears in front of him, a woman who is dark-skinned, and has multiple weapons secured on her person, and fierce looking eyes. Jaren jumps towards the woman and hugs her. He is so glad to see her as she is his Golden Shield, his number one protector and his friend.
‘Naari!’ He shouts, excited to see someone he knows in this unknown place.
‘Hello,’ She says, carefully pushing Jaren off her. She is not used to hugs.
‘Where are we?’ Jaren asks, a little anxious.
‘It appears we are in a different place, possibly even a different planet’ Naari ponders, in answer.
‘ Another planet?’ Jaren asks, definitely anxious now. ‘ What about Kiva, what about Tipp?’ He asks, worried for his girlfriend, and her best friend, a young boy who spent years in a death prison with her.
‘ I don’t know for sure, but it appears that way. According to the people who do not speak our language’ Says Naari, a little cautious of the anxious Jaren.
By unspoken consent, they think about the situation in silence for a few moments. Well, Naari is thinking about it, and Jaren is just worried about Kiva. Then, Naari says ‘I believe we are on a planet called Earth, it is inhabited by humans and is-’ Suddenly, Naari was cut off. The blinding light once again took them away, and dumped them into Kiva’s bedroom…
The inspiration for this piece came from the Prison Healer series by Australian author Lynette Noni. When writing this piece, I found it harder than I thought it would be as Jaren is such a loveable character, and also so complex. This was also my first time writing a fan fiction, and my first time entering a Goodreads writing competition. This story explores Jaren getting transported magically to Egypt, on Earth. Then, Naari comes and starts to figure out where they are before they are transported somewhere else… I purposely left this open to speculation about whether they were transported by enemies (possibly trying to take away Jaren’s magic) or friends. You decide!
There you go, hope you enjoy it!
SHE WROTE A PRISON HEALER FANFIC OMFG I LOVE YOU
oh ty! It isn't that good though, so my apologies
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Topics:
> Write a letter, as Santa, replying to an unusual request by a child.
OR
> Write a ballad (a poem or song narrating a story in short stanzas) based on winter.
OR
>What would it be like if a character from a fantasy world (that's way different from ours) turned up in our world for a day? Write a story or journal entry from their pov
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THIS MONTH'S PROMPTS
╰┈➤ 1. Use a word of the week (counts for 1 point in total)
╰┈➤ 2. Give your entry a title (counts for 1 point)
╰┈➤3. Write a note at the end about your experience writing it - any difficulties you faced, your general thoughts about it, what sparked the idea and so on (minimum 35 words) (counts for 2 points)
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