According to legend, the last herd of unicorns had retreated to a fantastic haven as their numbers dwindled. They had braved the dark interiors of the sunless forests, forded perilous lava rivers, and crossed desolate deserts to reach a majestic mountain range where they could continue living in peace.
Nathan was starting to think the legends were full of it.
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“Sir, the salamanders are striking again.”
General Mann’s hand trembled as he set down an item with no relevance to this story. He stood, still shaking, and muttered, “May God have mercy on our souls.”
After dismissing the messenger, General Mann bolted toward the stables. He threw the doors open wide in an epic
“Declan, Sierra, have you seen Jade recently?” Dr. Vansyl asked her two aspiring xenyptid trainers.
“Not since this afternoon.” Declan switched to a new tab on the institute’s shared computer. Jade’s section for the day’s survey findings was still blank.
“Hmm.” The doctor looked out the windows of the Calsced Institute, where dusk was
“Kid. Hey, kid.”
Stuart felt a hand slap his cheek.
“You okay?”
Stuart groaned and opened his eyes. Something bright and orange hovered above him. “Yeah, I think so.”
He pulled himself up as his vision focused. The orange solidified into an upright tapir with a tortoise shell, the dorsal appendage of an anglerfish
Wherever Tovar looked, flames engulfed his monastery home. He shielded his eyes and raced for the abbot’s dormitory, praying his mentor hadn’t been killed in the attack.
He found the abbot lying face down. “Abbot Cralin, what happened?”
“Tovar? Is that you?” The abbot turned toward him, clutching a wound in his side.
“I come bearing grave tidings.” Suraeldor the elf swept into the workshop, clutching a candy cane-striped telescope.
Tiggles set aside a half-built jack-in-the-box and focused on his friend. “Can I guess why? Is it because you stole the big guy’s Kringlescope?”
The tall elf handed the device to Tiggles. “Fear not—I will
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“I really hope this artifact is worth all the hassle,” I remarked to my partner, Alma, as we climbed over a caved-in wall. “This maze of ruins is going to drive me crazy.”
“Oh, stop complaining. We’re getting close.”
“How can you tell? This place is so poorly designed.”
At that instant, the floor fell out,
Bounty hunter Lemuel Donovan tasted the whiskey in the air even before he heard a sharp rap on his door. He opened it to reveal deputy Thaddeus McKinsey, badge glinting in the setting sun.
“Rather early to be hitting the saloon, deputy,” growled Lemuel. “Or did you require some liquid courage before visiting?”
It was a beautiful day on the shore. The sun was shining bright, the waves were gently tumbling, gulls were staying at a pleasant distance, and I was having an ideal time sunbathing, when it was all rudely interrupted by a loud, “Hey look. It’s a mermaid!”
I pushed myself up onto my tail and scanned the beach.
“By the power of the lamp held in your hand, your smallest wish is my command.”
A low, prolonged squeal escaped Alan’s wide smile. His eyes ping-ponged between the lamp he held and the ethereal figure before him.
“Though your wishes cannot exceed three, there are no bounds for what they may be.”
At Havok, we love stories and the people who write them. What better way to celebrate both than by hearing from our talented authors on what sparked the idea of their stories? It’s like peering into the mind of genius. (You know, that would make for an interesting story…) Without further ado, here is this
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If I walked away from this mission having learned only one thing, it would be that millennia of shifting sand dunes were no match for a stubbornly brilliant paranormal archivist. Unfortunately, the odds of me actually walking away were decreasing every second.
“Hey, Miriam, I could use some help over here!” I shouted as I deflected an obsidian sickle.
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