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Quote by Seamus Sullivan

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Daedalus Is Dead

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Seamus Sullivan

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“Il était une fois, dans la corne de l’Afrique, un forgeron qui s’appelait Ahmad. Il devait délivrer au roi sa toute dernière commande, une très belle épée à la lame étincelante et au manche en or, embellie de petites pierres de rubis d’une clarté et d’une pureté dignes d’un roi.”

FantasyMythologyFairy TaleShort StoriesFolkfore
Book:Muneeb et Samiah: Fables et Contes de l’Afrique médiévale
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“...the trees are talking ravenese to each other. And the trees are no longer leaved but feathered, there is not bracken but fur underneath me. And everything is beating like Drake’s drum, bringing down the children of the Milky Way. The trees are bones now and thinking big thoughts like spasms through me. Some trees are covered in owl feathers some rook and sparrowhawk. Their roots are big, scaled claws. In the early morning I find I have something in me that wasn’t there before. Something is in me like a mineral, or splint of bison bone or a spirit light. It is these words: "Inhabit the time and genesis of your original home.”

MythologyBards
Book:Bardskull
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“I don't want to go with you so that I can redeem myself, she said. I want to go with you so that you won't be alone. Your reason makes no difference, I still won't accept. My reason makes all the difference, she said firmly. I am not a miserable sinner wearing sackcloth and dust. I am your sister, who would rather live a few years with you than many years without you. Is that so difficult to understand?”

MythologyRetelling
Book:Arch-Conspirator
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“The Behemoth & The Godspawn Surfer by Stewart Stafford Jagged flesh in the behemoth's belly, The city encircled by its tongue's pall, I drank toxic fumes and pumice smoke, As I tried surfing along a lava waterfall. My obsidian bone board, surging fire, Cryptid blood drips from a snapping jaw, In a flash of the beast's fungal jawline, I counted the vacant dead within its maw. In a blaze, I was in its mouth and deeper, I rounded the gullet's scalding turn, Into a sea of swirling bones, stomach bile, Where half-chewed skyscrapers churn. "Leave me, Godspawn!" the monster roared, "Spoil not my prey feasting for my fangs to cut!" My board speared into its festering heart, It ejected me in a howling thunderclap of sulphur soot. And hurled me skyward, sand-blasted, and bruised, The plume cleared, and the beast stood, wound-free— Lava floods scorched, the city’s debt — a lifeblood hue, By sunrise, my perennial task returned to enslave me. © 2025, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”

AdventureHeroMythologyExistentialDystopianSurrealDark FantasyMonsterApocalypticCosmic Horror
Author:Stewart Stafford
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