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Vanquera is known to withhold innumerable secrets from the people who roam its lands, but those that are known are obscured by mysticism. Legends and myths about the many, many things out there are often embellished as details are altered, withheld, or added, making the truth virtually unattainable.

Despite this, there are those that seek the absolute truth above all else, risking life and limb in the pursuit of veracity. They travel far and wide, speaking with anyone they can about Vanquera's hidden lore.

This is a compendium of what these individuals have discovered and documented. These are the Tales of Vanquera.

This forum is dedicated to stories that take place in the collaborative science-fantasy world of Vanquera. I will be sharing my own short stories from time to time, but I encourage you to share your own as well!

THE MANABLOOM

I killed my sister. I'd do it again if it means feeling something.

I was on my way home when I discovered this message. It came from a lone Manabloom. The gentle glowing had caught my attention out of the corner of my eye. It had been hiding in the shade of a bush. I'm the curious sort, so there was little I could do to stop myself from knowing what mystery this flower held.

The moment I drew in the Mana, I fell back, horrified of the message that I had just permitted into my mind. What would ordinarily be a wondrous sort of flower suddenly became something horrendously vile.

Who would create such a thing as this? I begged to myself.

It couldn't be real. It had to be a lie. I couldn't possibly have stumbled across a confession of that sort. Not there, not then. Somebody must have been pulling a cruel prank, something to disturb those as curious as I had been.

I didn't care if it was true or not. I tore up the flower. The message it bore was too upsetting for me to leave it be.

If only I had left that damn flower alone. I wouldn't be here now if I had.

Want more? Read my other Vanquera post Cilicia of the Jadeth Council.

Why did I commend this shit before? 

This is stupid. And gay. And cringe. 

This is intriguing, but it really feels like a snippet of something larger, rather than, say, a finished piece of flash fiction. And it's completely unclear how it relates to your other excerpt. I think if you connect the dots and put together a finished piece, you'll get a better response.

I would also suggest making it clearer how the Mana conveys the message. Does your protagonist hear a voice in their head? See glowing script unfurling in their mind's eye? Or do they just intuitively feel the disturbing knowledge that they've gained?

I also think the line "I didn't care if it was true or not" doesn't ring true... the previous "It couldn't be real," etc. really contradicts it. They obviously DO care. I'd look for a way to rephrase.

Hope that's helpful! And if you only take one piece of advice: Keep writing!

The point of these works is to build the groundwork for larger, more detailed works set in the same world. If it feels like they're part of something larger, it's because they are. Although I can see how each piece should be able to stand on its own. Striking that balance between telling a coherent story while also leaving room for intrigue and that feeling of wanting more is difficult, but I hope with time and practice I can hone in what it takes.

I do feel the short story was rushed, as I forced myself to write something within a limited time as a challenge. Perhaps I could have worded it better. It clearly came out unfinished, but I think I will leave it that way for now so I can explore other ideas.

'The ManaBloom' is a retarded name for something.

It's probably the main culprit as to why nary a soul cares about your autistic world-building project.

One minute I am everything

The next I am nothing

A two-sentence poem told across two Manablooms. These Manablooms reside in the Florinomica under the watch of Vena La'Vada. At the beginning of exhibits of the Manabloom library, Vena La'Vada likes to present one of the two Manablooms to visitors. Then at the end she will share the other. She swaps them between visits, and - much to the surprise of visitors - the Manablooms adjust grammatically to accomadate. The poem flows as follows should they be swapped:

One minute I am nothing

The next I am everything

Madam La'Vada says they are two of her favorite Manablooms in the Florinomica, although she has never gone into detail as to why that is the case.