Tag Archives: Mythic Fiction

Of Eskin and Trade

Posted on March 12, 2022 by crispina kemp

How could they not know Eskin when they purported to be traders? Eskin was the speech of the peoples to the south. True, the Alsime-speaking Himen shared a fringing of land across the sea, but the Himen didn’t trade on … Continue reading →

Posted in Mostly Micro, Mythic Fiction | Tagged , | 21 Comments

Can of Worms

Posted on March 5, 2022 by crispina kemp

I found this wand. I didn’t know that’s what it was but my kiddish brain thought it the right word. The markings on it I have since discovered are runes (Nyd Is Hægl. Rad. Wynn Rad Eoh Tir Os Nyd). … Continue reading →

Posted in Mostly Micro, Mythic Fiction | Tagged , | 13 Comments

To Call a Spade a Spade

Posted on May 31, 2021 by crispina kemp

It was Adam began it. Look around you, said the Lord, at the trees, the flowers, the fruits in this garden. What will you name them? For without a name, you cannot know them. Then the Lord said, look around … Continue reading →

Posted in Mostly Micro, Mythic Fiction | Tagged , , | 8 Comments

ANNOUNCING Learning to Fly

Posted on April 2, 2021 by crispina kemp

The Spinner’s Game Continues… Medievalist Neve is delighted to find herself surrounded by swirling colours and foot-stomping music in Regin-jarl’s mead hall… even if her presence is dependent on the memories of a banished angel. Prompted by the angel to … Continue reading →

Posted in Fantasy Fiction, Mythic Fiction, On Writing, The Spinner's Game | Tagged , , , | 14 Comments

Update: March 2021

Posted on March 12, 2021 by crispina kemp

It’s been a while, so it’s not surprising if you thought I’d deserted you. Of course, I have not; but I have had to redistribute my time. A year ago, when I released The Spinner’s Game for sale on Amazon, … Continue reading →

Posted in Fantasy Fiction, Mythic Fiction, On Writing, The Spinner's Game | Tagged , , , , | 11 Comments

Wind-wafted Veils

Posted on October 22, 2019 by crispina kemp

The lights shimmered, wind-wafted veils of delicate hues, green and blue, yellow and red, that poured through the star-guarded hole. Aurora strained to hear their song. Her home. 28 words written for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt

Posted in Mostly Micro, Mythic Fiction | Tagged , , | 22 Comments