Tag: stories

Posted on

Chapter 18: Shadows of the Past

Novel : Tides of Destiny , Written by : Zoeb Ali (Zee)

Pre-Cap: Where We Left Off

In Chapter 17, Aileen stood on the stormy cliffside, gripping the mysterious artifact as the waves crashed violently below. Betrayal had come from within, and the truth about the journal and its cryptic symbols was finally unraveling. Just when she thought she was alone, a shadowy figure emerged from the darkness—someone she once trusted. Was this the moment of reckoning, or was there still a way out?

Chapter 18: Shadows of the Past

The wind howled through the night, carrying whispers of the past that refused to be buried. Aileen’s fingers trembled around the artifact, its eerie glow illuminating the face of the figure before her. It was him. The one she never expected.

“You,” she whispered, voice barely audible over the storm.

The figure stepped closer, his expression unreadable. “You should have left it alone, Aileen.”

She took a step back, her boots skidding against the wet rock. The weight of the journal in her satchel pressed against her side—a reminder of the secrets it held, secrets she wasn’t supposed to uncover.

“Why?” Her voice was stronger now, laced with the sting of betrayal. “After everything, why deceive me?”

The answer came not in words but in motion. A sudden rush—a flash of steel. Aileen barely had time to react, ducking as the blade sliced through the space where she had stood. She stumbled backward, her heartbeat a frantic drum against her ribs.

“Hand it over, and this ends now,” he demanded, his voice dangerously calm.

But Aileen wasn’t ready to surrender. Not now. Not after coming this far.

Summoning every ounce of courage, she spun on her heel and bolted toward the only path left—the ruins. The crumbling remains of the ancient chapel loomed ahead, a ghostly silhouette against the storm-lit sky.

Inside, the air was thick with the scent of damp stone and forgotten history. She pressed herself against a broken pillar, clutching the artifact tightly. Her pursuer’s footsteps echoed in the vast emptiness.

“You can’t hide forever,” he taunted. “You think you’re the first to try?”

Aileen’s breath came fast and shallow. Think, think. She glanced at the altar—the place where Eleanor’s journal had hinted something was buried. Could this be it? The final piece of the puzzle?

She reached out, her fingers tracing the worn carvings. A shift in the air, a soft click beneath her fingertips. And then—a sudden tremor. The ground beneath her quaked, dust cascading from the ceiling. A secret passage? A trap?

She had no time to hesitate. She leapt forward just as the floor gave way behind her, swallowing the past and the present in one terrifying collapse.

Post-Cap: What’s Next?

As Aileen plunges into the darkness below, what awaits her? Has she stumbled upon the final key to Eleanor’s secrets, or has she fallen into an even deadlier trap? And what will happen to the one who betrayed her?

Now, I’d love to hear from you! How do you think Aileen should proceed? Should she trust an unlikely ally in the depths below, or is she truly on her own? Drop your thoughts in the comments! If I choose your suggestion, I’ll @mention you in the next chapter with a message of your choice!

One-Time
Monthly
Yearly

Make a one-time donation

Make a monthly donation

Make a yearly donation

Choose an amount

NZ$5.00
NZ$15.00
NZ$100.00
NZ$5.00
NZ$15.00
NZ$100.00
NZ$5.00
NZ$15.00
NZ$100.00

Or enter a custom amount

NZ$

Your contribution is appreciated.

Your contribution is appreciated.

Your contribution is appreciated.

DonateDonate monthlyDonate yearly
Posted on

Tides of Destiny – Ch 15

Chapter 15: The Veil of Deception

Recap:
In the heart of the underground chamber, Aileen and Lucas uncovered the secrets locked within Eleanor’s journal. They discovered the truth about the artifact—a mysterious object with the power to bend time and influence destiny. The journal hinted at a betrayal that could shatter their mission, leaving them unsure of whom to trust. As shadows danced on the stone walls, Eleanor’s apparition whispered warnings, vanishing abruptly with a chilling gust of air. A hidden door revealed a tunnel leading deeper into the unknown, compelling them forward despite their rising fear.

Aileen’s grip on the artifact tightened as she and Lucas descended into the shadowy corridor. The air grew colder, and the faint sound of whispers echoed around them, as though the walls themselves carried secrets. Every step felt like a test, the weight of Eleanor’s warnings pressing heavily on their shoulders.

“Do you think we’re walking into a trap?” Lucas asked, his voice hushed but edged with tension.

Aileen hesitated. “We don’t have a choice. Whatever lies ahead, it’s the only way to uncover the truth.”

The passage widened, revealing a cavernous room lit by an eerie blue glow. Strange symbols etched into the stone pulsated faintly, drawing their eyes toward an ornate pedestal at the center. Upon it rested a crystalline orb, its swirling core alive with shifting colors that seemed to whisper unintelligibly.

“This must be it,” Aileen murmured, stepping closer.

But before she could touch the orb, a voice rang out, sharp and commanding.

“Don’t move!”

They spun around to see Marcus, their trusted ally, emerging from the shadows. His face was a mask of determination, but there was something cold in his eyes. Behind him, several armed figures stepped into view, blocking their retreat.

“Marcus?” Aileen’s voice wavered. “What are you doing here?”

His lips curled into a smirk. “Did you really think I was helping you out of loyalty? You were so focused on your quest, you didn’t see the bigger picture.”

Lucas stepped protectively in front of Aileen. “What are you talking about? We trusted you!”

Marcus gestured to the orb. “That artifact is more than just a relic. It’s a key to unimaginable power—power that doesn’t belong in your hands. I’ve been following Eleanor’s trail for years, and now, thanks to you, I’m finally here.”

Aileen’s mind raced, piecing together the journal’s cryptic warnings. “You… you’re the betrayal Eleanor warned about.”

Marcus’s smirk widened. “Call it betrayal if you want. I call it destiny.”

Before anyone could react, Marcus raised his hand, and the orb began to glow brighter. The room shook violently as the symbols on the walls flared to life, casting chaotic shadows. Aileen and Lucas were thrown to the ground, struggling to keep their footing.

“What are you doing?!” Aileen shouted, her voice barely audible over the rising cacophony.

“I’m claiming what’s mine,” Marcus declared.

The orb’s light expanded, enveloping the room in blinding brilliance. Aileen shielded her eyes, feeling a strange pull, as though the artifact was drawing her toward it. The whispers grew louder, forming fragmented words—pleas, warnings, and cries for help.

In the chaos, Lucas lunged at Marcus, tackling him to the ground. The two grappled, their shouts mingling with the deafening hum of the orb’s energy. Seizing the moment, Aileen scrambled toward the pedestal, her instincts screaming that she needed to act.

The moment her hand touched the orb, a surge of energy coursed through her. Time seemed to freeze—Marcus and Lucas were suspended mid-struggle, the light frozen in its expansion. Aileen felt herself pulled into a vision: Eleanor, standing in a field bathed in golden light, holding the artifact.

“You have the power to change everything,” Eleanor said, her voice steady but tinged with sadness. “But be warned—every choice comes with a price.”

The vision faded, and Aileen was back in the chamber. The orb’s energy subsided, and time resumed. She stumbled back, her hand trembling as she released the artifact.

Marcus broke free from Lucas’s grasp, his face contorted with rage. “What did you do?!”

Aileen stared at him, her resolve hardening. “I made a choice. And now, it’s my turn to finish what Eleanor started.”

Marcus lunged for the orb, but a shockwave erupted from the pedestal, sending him and his followers sprawling. The chamber began to collapse, the walls cracking and debris falling from the ceiling.

“Run!” Aileen shouted, grabbing Lucas’s hand and pulling him toward the exit.

As they fled through the crumbling tunnel, Aileen couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning. The artifact’s power had been awakened, and its impact would ripple far beyond what she could imagine.

But one thing was clear—trust had become a luxury, and the line between ally and enemy was more blurred than ever.

What lies ahead for Aileen and Lucas? Will they outmaneuver Marcus and uncover the full truth of the artifact’s power? And what price will they pay for the choices they’ve made?

The answers awaited them, shrouded in the shadows of destiny.

Posted on

Revealing my first gift to winner of Comment and Share competition

Dear Readers/Supporters,

I have decided to reveal my gift that I intend to give to the winner of my contest. This is a cool pen that spins. so if you have ADHD or like to spin without a win, here’s your choice.

So far I have not received any entries in form of comments or shares for the contest so please get it in sooner.

Looking forward to hear from you all. Have a great day and be safe and enjoy your time with whatever activity you do or your family and friends. Keep in touch. See you soon in next blog.

Posted on

Tides of Destiny  Ch -13

Tides of Destiny

Chapter 13: The Betrayal Within

The silence in the hidden chapel was suffocating, the air heavy with the weight of revelations yet to come. Aileen stood in the dim light of her lantern, the mysterious object she had retrieved from the altar clutched in her trembling hands—a locket, tarnished with age but radiating an almost imperceptible warmth. The intricate design bore Eleanor’s initials intertwined with another: “J.M.” Aileen’s heart raced as she realized this was no ordinary artifact; it pulsed faintly, as though alive with the energy of its past.

The journal’s final entries had hinted at a betrayal, but the locket held an untold piece of the puzzle. Inside, a miniature portrait revealed Eleanor and a man with piercing eyes and a strong jawline. The detail was exquisite, but there was something haunting about the man’s gaze, as though he were staring directly at Aileen through time.

As Aileen turned the locket over, she noticed a hidden compartment beneath the portrait. Carefully prying it open, she found a brittle piece of parchment folded inside. The writing was faded but legible:

“To Eleanor, my heart and soul. Forgive me for what I must do. —J.”

Aileen’s breath hitched. What had he done, and how had it led to Eleanor’s despair and the curse? The words felt like a confession, but the answer lay just beyond her grasp.

Suddenly, the temperature in the chapel plummeted. The shadows on the walls flickered unnaturally, stretching and twisting like living entities. A low whisper echoed through the chamber, growing louder until it coalesced into a single, chilling voice.

“You shouldn’t have come here.”

Aileen spun around, her lantern casting frantic beams of light across the stone walls. The stranger emerged from the darkness, his face obscured by the hood of his cloak. His presence was as unsettling as ever, but this time, there was no cryptic warning—only a palpable threat.

“Give me the locket,” he demanded, his voice cold and sharp.

“Who are you?” Aileen countered, her voice trembling but resolute. “What is this locket to you?”

The stranger stepped closer, his movements deliberate. “That locket carries the key to a secret that should remain buried. Eleanor’s curse was born of betrayal, and you’re meddling in things you don’t understand.”

Aileen gripped the locket tighter, refusing to yield. “You’ve been following me, trying to stop me. Why? What are you hiding?”

The stranger hesitated, and for a brief moment, his façade cracked. “Because the curse didn’t end with Eleanor,” he admitted. “It continues with me.”

The revelation hit Aileen like a thunderbolt. “You’re… connected to Eleanor? How?”

Before he could answer, a loud creak echoed from above. The chapel’s ceiling groaned under the weight of unseen forces. The stranger’s head snapped upward, his expression darkening.

“She’s coming,” he whispered. “The manor won’t let you leave now.”

The ground beneath Aileen trembled, and the locket grew warmer in her palm. The whispers returned, overlapping into an incoherent cacophony. The air thickened, making it hard to breathe.

In the chaos, the stranger lunged for the locket, but Aileen dodged, clutching it protectively. “You won’t take this from me!” she shouted, her voice echoing with defiance.

The stranger glared at her, but his anger seemed tinged with desperation. “You don’t understand. The locket binds us all—to the past, to the curse. If you keep it, you’ll share her fate!”

A sudden burst of light filled the chapel, blinding both Aileen and the stranger. When the brilliance subsided, a ghostly figure stood between them. It was Eleanor, her translucent form glowing with an otherworldly aura. Her expression was a mixture of sorrow and resolve.

“You both must stop,” Eleanor said, her voice echoing as if carried by the wind. “The curse was my doing, but the betrayal wasn’t what it seemed. There’s more to the story—more than either of you knows.”

The chapel fell silent as Eleanor’s words hung in the air. Aileen looked at the stranger, their hostility momentarily forgotten.

“What must we do?” Aileen asked, her voice steady despite the fear coursing through her veins.

Eleanor’s gaze softened. “Uncover the truth. Only then can the curse be broken.”

The chapel shuddered again, the walls cracking as if warning them to leave. The stranger grabbed Aileen’s arm, his urgency undeniable.

“We have to go,” he said. “The manor won’t give us another chance.”

As they fled the collapsing chapel, Aileen’s mind raced with questions. Who was the stranger, truly? What role did he play in Eleanor’s tragic story? And most importantly, what truth lay hidden in the locket?

One thing was certain: the path ahead would demand courage, resolve, and a willingness to face the darkness that bound them all to the tides of destiny.

Posted on

Tides of Destiny Ch – 12

Chapter 12: The Echo of Betrayals

The chill in the chapel seemed to cling to Aileen’s very skin as she clutched Eleanor’s journal to her chest. Her heart raced, each beat a drumroll of anticipation. The fragmented words and cryptic warnings that she had pieced together so far painted a story of forbidden love, deep betrayal, and a lingering curse. Yet, she knew she was only scratching the surface.

The faint scent of damp stone mixed with decayed wood filled the air. The faint, ethereal glow of moonlight filtered through the cracked stained glass, illuminating the stone altar before her. Her gaze settled on the altar’s surface, where an object lay half-buried beneath a pile of broken tiles.

Summoning her courage, Aileen stepped forward. As her fingers brushed the object, a shiver traveled down her spine. It was a small wooden box, intricately carved with swirling patterns that seemed alive in the dim light. Aileen opened it cautiously, revealing a lock of raven-black hair tied with a faded crimson ribbon and a parchment folded with care.

The parchment was fragile, and as Aileen unfolded it, the edges threatened to crumble. The handwriting was elegant, a testament to a bygone era, but the words sent a chill through her soul:

“To you who find this, know that the truth is buried where the light never touches. Only the unspoken name can unlock what was lost. Beware the shadows—they are always listening.”

Aileen read the note again, trying to make sense of it. What was the “unspoken name”? What did it mean to “unlock what was lost”? Before she could puzzle further, the distant creak of the chapel doors echoed through the space.

Her head snapped up, heart pounding. She wasn’t alone.

The sound of footsteps approached, slow and deliberate. Aileen ducked behind the altar, clutching the journal and the box. Her breath was shallow as she peeked around the corner, her eyes adjusting to the shifting shadows.

A figure entered, cloaked and hooded. Their movements were deliberate, as if they knew exactly where they were going. The figure stopped at the altar, and Aileen could see the glint of something metallic—a blade?—catching the faint moonlight.

The figure spoke, their voice low and menacing. “The chapel keeps its secrets well, but not for long. The past has ways of unveiling itself, doesn’t it?”

Aileen’s pulse quickened. Was this person searching for the same answers as her? Or were they here to bury the truth further?

She shifted slightly, her foot brushing a loose stone. The sound was faint but enough to draw the figure’s attention. The hooded head turned sharply, and for a moment, Aileen thought she saw a flash of piercing blue eyes beneath the shadow of the hood.

“Who’s there?” the voice demanded, sharp and unyielding.

Aileen’s options raced through her mind. She could confront this stranger, risk everything, and demand answers. Or she could retreat and hope to learn more without revealing her presence.

Before she could decide, the figure moved with surprising speed, heading straight for her hiding place. Panic surged, and Aileen clutched the journal tighter, preparing to flee. But as the figure reached the altar, the faint sound of church bells tolled in the distance.

The figure froze, their head tilting as if listening. Aileen seized the moment, slipping out from behind the altar and darting toward the side entrance. Her breath came in short, panicked bursts as she ran, the sound of her boots on the stone floor echoing in the stillness. She didn’t stop until she was outside, the cold night air biting her cheeks.

Back at the manor, Aileen paced in her room, the journal and wooden box laid out before her. Who was that stranger? What were they looking for? And why had the chapel seemed to react to their presence, as if alive?

She flipped through the journal, seeking guidance. Eleanor’s words felt closer now, her emotions bleeding through the ink. One passage stood out:

“There are forces that bind us, unseen but ever-present. Damien warned me of the price we’d pay, but love blinded us to the warnings. Now, the manor bears witness to our mistakes.”

Aileen’s hand trembled as she closed the journal. The price Eleanor spoke of—was it the curse? And what role did the stranger play in all of this?

As she stared out the window at the moonlit grounds, she knew one thing for certain: the storm Eleanor had written about wasn’t just a metaphor. It was coming, and Aileen had no choice but to face it.

The manor’s secrets were unraveling, and the echoes of the past were growing louder, demanding to be heard. Aileen’s journey was far from over, and she had a sinking feeling that the most dangerous revelations were yet to come.

End of Chapter 12



Posted on

Tides of Destiny

Chapter 5:

Whispers of the Unseen

Aileen awoke to the sound of tapping—soft, rhythmic, and insistent. It was coming from the window of her bedroom, a room she had deliberately chosen far from the crumbling east wing where the mirror stood. The tapping wasn’t caused by the wind or a branch swaying against the glass; it was deliberate, as though someone—or something—wanted her attention.

Her pulse quickened as she pulled the covers tighter around herself. She lay still, listening, hoping it would stop. But it didn’t.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Summoning courage, she swung her legs off the bed, the wooden floorboards cold beneath her feet. The window overlooked the garden, shrouded in fog. She drew the curtain aside, and for a brief, chilling moment, she thought she saw the shadow of a figure standing in the mist. But as she blinked, it was gone.

The morning brought little comfort. Aileen poured herself a cup of coffee, her hands trembling slightly as she stared at the journal she’d found the day before. The journal’s cover, worn leather embossed with a faint floral pattern, seemed to pulsate with secrets.

She flipped it open again, her curiosity outweighing her apprehension. The handwriting inside was elegant, slanted, and unmistakably feminine.

April 15, 1925
Today, Damien brought me a flower from the garden. A simple daisy, but to me, it was more precious than diamonds. The house knows. I feel its eyes on us, but I will not surrender to its will. We have a plan. We will leave.

Aileen frowned, rereading the passage. The name Damien sparked something—a faint memory from the old town gossip she’d overheard as a child. The Rothschild family, she remembered, had been plagued by tragedy, though specifics were always vague.

She continued reading.

April 18, 1925
Father has announced my engagement to Harold. I cannot bear it. Damien and I will leave this place. I will not be a prisoner, not to Father, not to this cursed house.

April 19, 1925
I saw her again in the mirror. The woman. Her face was veiled, but her presence was suffocating. She whispered to me, her voice like broken glass: “You cannot escape.”

The journal slipped from Aileen’s hands, landing with a dull thud on the table. The mention of the mirror sent a shiver down her spine. She had avoided the east wing since the night she first saw the woman’s reflection. Was this Eleanor’s journal? Was she the woman trapped in the mirror, or was there something else entirely?

Aileen decided she needed to investigate. Armed with her phone’s flashlight and a cautious resolve, she made her way to the east wing.

The corridor was as she remembered: cold, damp, and heavy with an inexplicable sense of dread. The mirror stood at the end, its ornate frame tarnished with age.

As she approached, her flashlight flickered. The closer she got, the harder her heart pounded.

“Get a grip,” she whispered to herself.

She stood before the mirror, staring at her reflection. For a moment, there was nothing unusual—just her pale face, wide-eyed and cautious. Then, the surface rippled.

Aileen stepped back, gasping. A figure emerged—a woman in an old-fashioned gown, her face obscured by a black veil. The room grew colder, and Aileen’s breath formed small clouds in the air.

“Who are you?” Aileen demanded, her voice trembling.

The woman raised a gloved hand and pointed—first at the mirror, then at the journal Aileen clutched to her chest.

The house groaned, as though alive. Aileen turned and fled, her footsteps echoing in the empty corridor. Back in the safety of the library, she tried to steady herself. She flipped through the journal again, hoping for answers.

April 22, 1925
Damien says we must leave tonight. The house grows angrier, its whispers louder. I fear we may not succeed. But if anyone finds this journal, know that we tried. We loved. And love is the greatest rebellion against the dark.

The words struck Aileen like a blow. What had happened to Eleanor and Damien? Had they managed to escape?

As if in answer, the library door slammed shut. Aileen jumped, her pulse racing.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

The voice came from the shadows, deep and male. She spun around, searching for its source.

“Who’s there?” she demanded.

A figure stepped forward—a man, his face obscured by the dim light. He wore a long coat, the collar turned up, and a hat that shadowed his eyes.

“The house doesn’t like trespassers,” he said, his tone both warning and resigned.

“I’m not trespassing,” Aileen said, her voice firmer than she felt. “I own this place now.”

The man chuckled, low and mirthless. “No one owns this house. Not really. It owns you.”

Aileen’s mind raced. Who was this man? How had he entered the house?

“I found the journal,” she said, holding it up as if it were a shield. “Eleanor’s journal. I know something happened here, and I’m going to find out what.”

The man tilted his head, his expression unreadable. “Be careful what you dig up. Some things are buried for a reason.”

“Who are you?” Aileen demanded. “How do you know about the house?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he turned and walked away, his footsteps fading into silence.

Aileen spent the rest of the day poring over the journal and researching the Rothschild family. She discovered fragments of their story—whispers of forbidden love, an engagement broken, and two deaths on the same night. Damien Carter had been found hanging in the stables, while Eleanor Rothschild had vanished without a trace.

But the details were murky. Official records were incomplete, and the local archives offered little more than speculation.

That evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Aileen stood before the mirror again.

“I know you’re there,” she said, her voice steady. “Eleanor, if you can hear me, I want to help.”

The mirror remained still. But as Aileen turned to leave, she heard a faint whisper:

“Love is the greatest rebellion…”

Her heart raced. The words from the journal.

Aileen knew one thing for certain: the house held its secrets tightly, but she was determined to uncover them—no matter the cost.

#StarCrossedLovers#LoveInShadows#ForbiddenRomance#CursedDestiny#EternalLoveAndLoss#TangledFates

Leave a comment

One-Time
Monthly
Yearly

Make a one-time donation

Make a monthly donation

Make a yearly donation

Choose an amount

¤5.00
¤15.00
¤100.00
¤5.00
¤15.00
¤100.00
¤5.00
¤15.00
¤100.00

Or enter a custom amount

¤

Your contribution is appreciated.

Your contribution is appreciated.

Your contribution is appreciated.

DonateDonate monthlyDonate yearly