Worldbuilding short stories, character canon, and fun little scenarios I use to help me write my series the Zharian Chronicles. Get ready for a sock drawer of loosely connected, short(ish) stories.
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Along the forest's western edge, a belt of sand gilded the border between land and sea. Only here, wrapped in the aroma of ocean spray and musty leaf litter, Faewood trees took root in the dark soil and embraced each other's outstretched limbs--a green skin to mask what hid below. Between the faint cracks in this verdant ceiling, sunlight slipped through in thread-thin strands of gold and white.
Daylight alone did not illuminate this sylvan city. Looking down upon the lush canopy, unable to glimpse between its branches, one could imagine only a dank gloom below. And so it was on the outskirts of the forest where the ferns and brambles could not deter any curious passerby. For miles from the forests' edge, faint deer tracks led into a musty darkness that most eyes could not penetrate.
Trespassers might stumble along the gnarled roots, brush up against the damp ferns, peer into the gloom to see if there were monstrous eyes staring back. Even the most brave--or the most foolish--would turn back long before reaching the forest's beating heart.
But beyond the gloom, the pulsing glow of fairy wings and moonlace strings gave life to the gloom. Here, the darkness was no foe. Here, the ferns unfurled each night to reveal the moon silver beads along their stems that shone as the moon apexed. Here, honeysuckle dripped from mossy branches, casting columns of golden light onto the forest floor.
The trees organized themselves into wide avenues and winding boulevards below grand archways. All manner of creatures scuttled between the roots, flitted between the trees, and rustled in branches. Some you know: the woodmouse and the jay, the rabbit and the fox, the badger and the maggot, the deer and the wolf, the snake and the bee, the salamander and the snake. All with night cloaked eyes alight with arcane shine.
Above the rabbit warren, below the robin's nest, something flowered in the aromatic soil and burst forth. It was old, and new. It was gentle and cruel. It spoke and remained silent. It made the darkness its home. It made flowers grow in gold and silver, spewing jeweled petals at sunset. It made fairies burst from the Faewood leaves. It lured prey and devoured light. It moved dangling vines like snakes and breathed life into the trees to stand guard over all.
