Blue Garden Stories

  Shiran was bursting with life that day. Children ran through the streets while streetwalkers showed off their wares to the residents of the Southern Castle of the Land of the People. The hot southern wind coming from the Ishar desert sickened Makrivei Otije who, even in her loose, light red dress, was dripping with sweat. The turban on her head carefully hid her non-existent hair, a tradition of the family that gave birth to her, to shave their hair. The Otije family, who had just learned of her gifts, made sure to send her to the Calvino family, in the town of Shiran. There, she learned alongside leader Victor Calvino to wield her craft and not fear her enemies. In her 20s, Makrivei declares herself a proud Necromancer, a branch of Alchemy that was quite misunderstood by the people of Etherid. Who would be harmed if she saw spirits here and there? Who would be harmed by her dark magic? Certainly not her. With the back of her hand she wiped her sweaty forehead. Green eyes itched ...

Δύο γνωστοί συναντιούνται στο δρόμο. Δύο παλαιοί συμμαθητές, δύο κάποτε αγόρια και πλέον μεγάλοι και ώριμοι άντρες, ο καθένας με τα σωστά του, τα λάθη του και τις εμπειρίες του, τυχαίνει να βρεθούν στο χάος μιας Σεπτεμβριανής Αθήνας, τότε που όλοι γυρνούν σαν χαμένοι από τις διακοπές τους, ψάχνοντας να προσαρμοστούν σε μια πόλη που "δαγκώνει" τους κατοίκους της. Αυτοί οι δύο όμως δεν δαγκώνουν. Μια φιλία που κράτησε σε όλα τα εφηβικά τους χρόνια και διακόπηκε με την είσοδό τους σε διαφορετικά Πανεπιστήμια της Ελλάδος και έμεινε μετέωρη, διακεκομμένη αλλά όχι διαγραμμένη. Άλλωστε το σχολείο πάντα ενώνει τις ζωές των ανθρώπων. Χαμογελούν ο ένας στον άλλον και μένουν να θυμούνται τα χρόνια που ήταν αχώριστοι και γελούσαν με βλακείες, πειράγματα και κόντρες. Ο Α κάνει να μιλήσει και ο Β κάνει το ίδιο. Γελούν ο ένας με την αμηχανία του άλλου και όλα γίνονται όπως παλιά. Ο Α ξέρει την ντροπαλότητα του Β. Έτσι και αλλιώς πάντα ήταν ένα σεμνό αγόρι με τα μαθήματά του και τις γνώσεις ...

  The weather is unpredictable but Pablo doesn't feel the cold. As an apparition of the Beast, he has experienced the leva and the frost in the bowels of the earth. Too many years have passed since then but the feeling never goes away. Pablo has been on earth for about 200 years. He is one of many apparitions that exist. He faithfully follows the Master's instructions; unlike others who tend to act on their own disobeying their Master's orders. He is one of the Beast’s Sorcerers, and the most trusted. Alas to those who disobey the commandments and they think that they are strong like the Master, like the Beast. If they disobey, they have to pay for it. They pay. The price? Eternal torture after the completion of the deal. Pablo has saved many who have strayed from the Master’s path. The commands are – always – explicit: We do not kill mortals unless the Master allows it. We use only the oblique method of persuasion towards the worst path. In case of disobeying the orders, t...

  Pablo, not knowing where to go, entered the village cafe. Everybody was talking about the stranger; everybody stopped at once. He looked quizzically at the elders who were drinking their coffee after Church. He carefully placed the square suitcase he was holding as if it were something valuable on the floor. He ordered a Greek coffee. After a few seconds of silence, the villagers continue to chat again about anything and everything, about the wood, about the train that is stopped at the station. "Trains have evolved, I tell you...". "Such a new train has never come to our village!" "That’s good for us. Let the trains come to our village to load them!! Now my son loads the train!” "Your son is a strong boy, one of the strongest youths!!!" Pablo listens to the conversations while rubbing his hands over the gloves. It's not that cold, but he's not going to take them off. A man put the coffee on the table and Pablo takes a sip. Hot and bitter, t...

  Martha rose from her bed and made the sign of the cross. She was a religious woman. As every Sunday morning, she lit the candle at her house and put on her best clothes to go to Church, as she used to do every week. After receiving the Holy Eucharist she talked to some people at the Church discussing the weather, the difficulties of the autumn season, the animals, and how they had to build new barns to roost in the winter. Martha is the only innkeeper left in the village. She keeps the inn only in memory of her husband who was 20 years older than her; leaving her widow at a very young age. Today is the 25th anniversary of her husband’s death and everyone at the Church reminds her of his kindness. As if she didn't know how kind her husband was. They got married when she was 20 years old, young and fresh. He was 40 and had decided that it was about time to get married. Till his 40s the only thing he was doing was managing the inn. He hadn’t time for affairs as he had to serve all t...

(I'm Stella Strafkou and I'm submiting Pablo as one of my story series in Royal Road) The small village at the foot of the mountain, somewhere in Transylvania, was not full of life as used to be. The 300 villagers worked hard to live. The mines had closed years ago and the miners had now turned to the timber that the forest provided and the livestock that gave them at least a cup of milk and some eggs every day. Most of the inhabitants, today, are old people and their hobbies are either embroidery or television. For the bravest ones – bravest from their youth – could be a walk in the forest. A forest where old stories used to talk about a Witch who was – once – one of them; but after giving birth to a child without having married first, that was the reason for banishing her from the village. Being cut off from all her co-villagers, she hid in the forest, up to the mountains. She was about to starve to death until she met the Beast. Popular beliefs speak of the Beast as a form o...

  I jolt awake in the middle of the night from a strange sound. Like wind chimes being struck by the wind on balconies. A mournful melody, as if hymning grief and loss. Several seconds pass before I orient myself to where it's coming from-right beside me, from my nightstand, specifically from the leather-bound notebook. Terrified, I snatch it quickly and throw it to the opposite corner of my room. There's no way something this supernatural is happening, I must be dreaming or losing my mind. It falls to the floor and opens in the middle. The melody stops as suddenly and unexpectedly as it began. I take a deep breath... it was probably just my imagination, after all the mind gets confused between sleep and waking, whatever dream it was has passed. I lie back down and look at the notebook from a distance. The light of the full moon breaks through the clouds and illuminates my entire room. Along with it, the corner where the notebook lies. The moment it's touched by the silvery...