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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jul, 2025
Submitted to Contest #310
At that moment—pen trembling between ink and will—Dàvīn realized: he had become the fulcrum between fiction and fate. The emblem on his left bicep, a sigil that had first appeared in a dream of seven burning quills, now pulsed with a soft, celestial warmth. It shimmered faintly beneath the skin—an echo of power older than language. It was no tattoo. It was a key. And through it, he had gained the gift of gods. Not metaphor. Not imagination. Actual power. With each word he wrote, reality shifted. A door creaked open in the house next door bef...
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