《Tales of the Lost》 The blacksmith The sound of steel striking steel could be heard the entire day long. He had never taken a break for a single day, as slacking off was not an option. Forging took a lot of time and the molten steel had to be continuously hammered. It was hard, so hard. His body hurt, and the heat from the flames burned. Yet the hammer kept falling. Every day he felt like he would die, yet tomorrow came nevertheless. Every night he would drink, for that is the only time he could ignore the pain. Yet he kept wielding the hammer everyday, for there was a joy found deep within the suffering. The feeling of celebration after a long day hard work, the feeling of happiness when a piece was finally finished, the feeling of relief when he makes it back home after a night of drinking. It was the only way the common man could keep going every day. And so the blacksmith hammered.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. The heart I have been preparing for this for a very long time, and now, the day has finally come. It took me two days to reach the starting point. I adjust my gear and begin walking. Step after step I push forward, the path growing steeper and the air thinner. As I reach greater heights, the cold becomes more unforgiving. The wind cuts my skin through my clothes. The blizzard blinds my sight. Despite the harshness of my surroundings, I feel more alive then ever. After a long day I reach a cold and empty bivouac. It offers little warmth, but enough to survive the night. At first light, I set out once again. And finally I see it. A gargantuan palace atop the highest mountain of the chain. With walls of ice and snow for grass, it is a landscape frozen in time. I scale the icy walls. I walk past the grass, avoiding the holes that will trap me in endless hallways. After arriving at the courtyard, the midway point, the clouds part and show me my goal. There, at the very top is the first hall, the origin. Slowly expanding its domain, inch by inch. The peak, where it all flows down. The heart of the glacier. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. The dream In the middle of a long, arduous path in the mountains, there is a sidetrail. It is flat instead of the constant elevation change, covered in lush green grass instead of the cold hard stone. If one takes that path, one will arrive at a small valley after a mere 5 minutes of walking. It is beautiful, with blue skies and a radiant sun. A small stream flows through the middle, giving life to the surrounding grass fields. A pine forest fills the valley, with moss covered rocks scattered throughout. It is like a dream, a sweet dream. If one chooses to enter the valley, see its embracing beauty and lie down on the soft grass. If one then closes their eyes, slowly being lulled to sleep by the gentle chirping of birds. If one forgets about the main path and its hardships. If one forgets what is at the end of that path, their original purpose. Then they shall never leave the valley, trapped in a sweet dream.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. The forest The sun is rising, shining her rays upon the forest. The heat is merciless. Dense trees provide shade, but it still feels suffocating. Suddenly, a big branch falls to the ground, and a hunter emerges from behind. The hunter wipes the sweat from his forehead and hops over the branch. With a thump, he lands on the ground and continues walking with a knife in hand. The sun rises to it''s peak. Every person in this forest is wandering, desperately looking for something. The hunter is no exception. He hunts his goal, located somewhere in this vast forest, for that is all he knows.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. The ponderer Most of the town was already covered in black, but a single spot emitted light, like a lone star in the dark sky. The source of this illumination was a small restaurant, it could serve at most two dozens of people at once. Tables were arranged in neat lines, with only a flickering candle on the cloth. At the back was a counter, with the owner behind, listening to the few nocturnal sounds. The light whirring of the fans. The occasional car outside, driving to an unknown destination. Small critters, scurrying around. During the day, the restaurant would be bustling with life, but now every table was empty. It was at nights like these, that the owner would simply look at the starry sky and let his thoughts wander. ''Should I perhaps change the restaurant?'' This sudden thought nestled inside his mind and refused to leave. ''But this place has always remained the same, why change now?'' ''I wonder what would have happened if I did try to change all these years ago.'' ''Maybe I could''ve been something else, or travelled all over the world.'' ''I could have chased my dream.'' ''What was my dream?'' If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. The gardener Sunlight enters my room, signifying that it''s time for me to get up. Accompanied by the sound of bones creaking in protest, I rise out of my bed. I go through my usual morning routine, which mostly consists of eating some dry bread, brushing my teeth and washing my face. I take some time to look at a portrait of my parents. They left me this house but unfortunately also left me. I descend the stairs and look outside. It is a beautiful day. I make my way to the garage. This old man cannot retire, as someone has to take care of this house. I put a pair of gloves and pick up my trusty machete. I walk to the garden, and as expected, the kudzu has invaded my backyard once again. Just like every day before. With a sigh, I start cutting the plant with my machete. While doing so, I cannot help but look at the sea of green filling my vision. The other residents of this town have already left due to the plant''s invasion. But I have not. My parents left me this house, and I will protect it until my very last breath.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. The watcher & The loner Flames consume everything. A once glorious kingdom falls to ruin. The people cry out, yet no god takes pity. At the center of it all, I stand once again. Watching it all crumble. Oh Kazdel, why do thou never learn? Why must thou repeat the same mistakes over and over? Oh beloved land of mine, why art thou so cruel? Blessed with immortality, cursed with incapability, I must bear witness to this sight. That is my role as historian, as watcher. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Laughter, like a river flows around me. Familiar faces constantly move. Words enter my ears, yet do not register. Slowly, the people around me blur. Sounds fade and suddenly it is quiet. I am now the only person in the world. The descent I double check everything one last time. I take in a deep breath and look at my surroundings one last time. Two shades of blue stretching out to infinity. It is so peaceful up here. Tightening my mask, I step onto the edge of the boat. I can do this. After mentally counting to three, I dive into the ocean, cracking its surface. I start to swim deeper and deeper. The blue in front of me turns darker and darker. Slowly, the fish appear fewer and fewer. The sound of my breathing is the only thing accompanying me. At one point, I can no longer see anything in front me. Everything is pitch black. The pressure is slowly crushing me. I turn on the headlight. A small ray of light pierced the darkness. I can do this. I start to lose my sense of time. How long have I been down here? Suddenly, something else enters my field of vision. Could it be? I look around, and the sand goes as far as I can see. Yes, this has to be the bottom! I did it! I quickly turn on the small camera fastened to me and take a picture. This is my proof. As I''m about to swim back up, I spot something in the corner of my eye. A black spot among the yellow sand. I swim over. It is a hole. I cannot see the end. I grab onto the edge and look down. The abyss stares back.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. The hero A vast plain stained with blood. Piles of lifeless bodies cover the once-green grass. Each once had an individual life, family and dreams. All extinguished in a meaningless battle. All cut down by my tachi. The blades of the defeated lie on the ground, having failed to pierce my armor. Countless stars bear silent witness to the slaughter. The sky weeps for the fallen. I take off my kabuto and gaze upon the carnage. This sight is nothing new to me. I can hear the cheering behind me. They scream my name, celebrating the fact that they didn''t need to risk their lives. That I did the dirty work for them. In the past, I would celebrate with them. But now, I cannot smile, for I know that tomorrow will bring more of the same. I can''t even remember why I picked up my sword. The drizzle intensifies into a deluge, washing away the blood. I no longer care for a happy ending. I only seek an end. A single tear rolls down my cheek, disguised among the droplets.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. The march A barren land, its life stolen. Only crows remain, mourning the lost. But this land cannot rest yet. A continuous, thunderous sound shakes the ground. A thousand footsteps draw a line on the blank sheet. A thousand men marching towards the horizon, towards the enemy. Some think of themselves as heroes about to save their motherland, others are fearful and long for home. Together they form a single being, like a line of ants. Individual desire is insignificant. Unable to speak out, they continue walking, the will shaking with every step. Good soldiers follow orders, even if they must walk into hell.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. The performance It is time. The lights go out and the curtains slide aside to reveal my figure. With graceful steps I walk forward, towards the audience. The music starts and I begin the dance. Precise and controlled movements, practiced countless times. The music picks up and so does my speed. Every part of my body works together to create a flawless performance. I can hear the awe of the audience. I allow a small smile on my face as I approach the finale. When the music reaches its climax, I execute my trump card. The audience''s cheers are ear deafening. After a few steps I end in a deep bow and receive the applause. I lift my head and look forward. There is no audience.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. The most beautiful thing A neverending black space. Suddenly, a bright explosion, right in the center. A brilliant ever changing mixture of colors and sounds. So many sounds. So loud. Why can''t they be quiet and see the beauty right in front of us? But I get it. It''s hard to ignore the immediate feelings, emotions that overtake you. It''s burning hot, yet freezing cold at the same time. The body hurts everywhere. Confusion, fear and anger run rampant. But if one can, despite all that, just look at what''s in front of them, they could see the most beautiful sight they''ve ever seen, lighting up every dark corner, as if they''ve never been there. Now, all worldly concerns are no more. Now, I can close my eyes. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. The bird There once was a boy, living in a shabby hut in the middle of a forest. The boy had no family nor friends, even the hunters didn''t know of his existence. One day, a bird landed on his window: "Human, you look sad. What''s the matter?" The boy replied: "I have no-one around me, I''m lonely." The bird thought for a bit and said: "Human, if no other will, then I can be your friend" The boy looked down: "Many others have said the same, yet all left. How will I know that you will not leave me too?" The bird puffed it''s chest: "Human, no need to worry. I live forever and we birds are very loyal. I will always stay by your side." After a bit of hesitation, a bright smile bloomed on the boy''s face. And so the boy made his very first friend. The pair spent every second together, growing closer. The boy found himself smiling more often than not. It was like the sun finally shone her light on the shadow that was his life.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. One day, the boy woke up and didn''t see the bird beside him. This had never happened before, so the boy went out to look for the bird. He ran past the trees, shouting. But the words got stuck inside his throat when he reached a clearing. There, on the soft grass laid a small bird, with an arrow pierced through the heart. The boy wept and cried out: "Bird! You liar! You broke our promise! So cruel, letting me taste happiness just to leave me. Bird, why did you go. Now I am alone again." The boy took the body and buried it under the oldest tree. There, he made a final promise, one only to himself. Never again would he trust another living being.