Brett's Works

All of the creatures of the forest have heard the stories from The Before, where Titans dominated the landscape and fought to protect their realms from each other. They were behemoths, each designed to protect different elements of nature with their sheer size and power.  Our guardian was Gengu the Forest Walker, a gentle giant who moved through the forest slowly, planting seeds and sheltering the smaller creatures from thunderstorms with his hulking frame. He was kind, with careful movements to avoid disturbing the landscape he guarded. Standing taller than the tallest Redwood, he was a powerful guardian for the forests during The Before, keeping his realm safe from harm for centuries. While the other Titans like Qwalaki and Krodon continued to battle one another all across the other regions, Gengu remained at peace in the forest, watching over the forests.   One day he faltered, and that’s where the legend begins.  Gengu was resting alongside a river near the edge ...

  M y brain woke up all at once, like 12,000 volts of electricity yanking me from a coma. Some of my sensory organs activated immediately, flooding me with new information to process. My eyes were blurry for a moment, adjusting their focal length the way you’d focus a camera lens. My ears whirred to life, sorting through all of the new sounds that flooded into my nervous system.  I couldn’t taste or feel anything, something I thought would come back with time. I looked down at my body, which was covered completely by a tarp of some kind. My brain took a second to register what was in front of me, but I eventually realized I was in a hospital of some sort. A few pieces of equipment were nearby, including a flatline heart monitor that refused to stop making noise. I couldn’t feel anything, but knew my vitals were fine, and that the machine wasn’t reporting on my condition. I reached out to turn off the machine and fell out of the bed with a loud clang.  “Oh no he bro...

I was ten when my father fed me to the Dragonborn. He found me in the yard, petting a small lizard and playing pretend, acting as though the creature was my best friend. It wasn’t the playing my father had a problem with. It was what I was playing with. My people hated Dragonborn. Snakes, lizards, and other reptiles were considered vermin, even more disgusting than rats. I never understood this philosophy, and repeatedly got into trouble for treating lizards with kindness.  While other kids my age stomped on and terrorized these creatures, I offered them sanctuary. No matter how many times I was disciplined, I never understood why we had to hate them. That day I learned why. It was tradition and old grudges that kept me from these scaly creatures. “Why can’t I play with him,” I asked, holding the lizard close to me. “Because they are monsters. Your ancestors fought them centuries ago to stake a claim on this land. They cannot be trusted and they do not belong here” “But he’s...