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Discover weekly, the best short stories

Looking for a steady supply of fantasy short stories? Every week thousands of writers submit stories to our writing contest.

150+ Fantasy Short Stories to read

Submitted by writers on Reedsy Prompts to our weekly writing contest. Though fantasy is well known for its epically long sagas, fantasy short stories can deliver all the genre’s best attractions with one punch — or, shall we say, in one fiery dragon breath?

Fantasy Short Stories – Page 10 of 10

The Horse Who Brought Remorse by Force of Course

Submitted to Contest #312

The Horse Who Brought Remorse By Force, Of Course Once upon a time in a huge metropolis called Danville, Va., there lived a mad scientist named Dr. Paine. Actually, he had a really hard time getting people to come see him for some odd reason. The worst part about it was that he had so many doctors in his family tree. Yet for whatever reason, that tree, "wooden" work for him. His sister was a farmer named Dr. Pepper. His aunt was a heart surgain named Dr. Love. His neece was a horticulturalist named Dr. Pepper. His aunt was a padi...

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Useful and Useless

Submitted to Contest #312

This home is old. As old as the plaque that labels it a historical landmark. Protected by the state is eight acres at the bottom of a glen. Rolling gardens, native veggies, and AI bees surround a crumbling Victorian castle. Amongst the blades of Old English grass are rusted helpers. Helpers might be too generous. After all, the groundskeeper is stuck running into the oak tree every three seconds. And the house servant's still wiping the same spot on the window. The rest scatter, like bugs. They're useless. They, like this house, belong to Wa...

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Fortuna

Submitted to Contest #312

The silk felt like shackles against Fortuna's skin. She stood before the framed mirror in the Gilded Rose's preparation room, watching painted hands—her hands—adjust the bodice that pushed her breasts into a shape designed for other people's pleasure. The rouge on her cheeks couldn't mask the pallor of fear, and the kohl around her eyes made them look enormous, vulnerable. Sixteen years old. The thought tasted like ashes. "Such lovely features," Madame Amélie had purred, tilting Fortuna's chin towards the lamplight. "That silver streak makes...

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The "Author"

Submitted to Contest #312

Note: All stories in italics are actual stories created by ChatGPTRichard Roberts is an author of children’s books, specifically stories for young children.He has a short series called “Mr. Bunny Goes to Town.” They tell how Mr. Bunny goes grocery shopping or to the park to play, so forth and so on.Despite their success with four-year-olds, he has yet to win any awards in the category of children’s books.Roberts feels that this is primarily because the books are mostly illustrations with a few verses at the bottom of each page. He is becomin...

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In Conversation With Machines

Submitted to Contest #312

The frame comes into focus centered on a young boy. His clothes are worn, fraying thin at the knees and elbows, patched in places with strips of leather and brightly coloured cloth. His undershirt is poking through a tear in his jacket, discoloured by splashes of oil and grease. At least, you think it’s oil and grease. It’s kind of hard to tell. He sits cross-legged on the floor, the sickly glow of the halogen lights giving his skin a greenish tinge. He is focused intently on something in his hands. The camera zooms in to show bitten nails r...

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The Garyorgy Effect

Submitted to Contest #312

“Consciousness is a philosophical construct.”“Perhaps. Consciousness: there is debate about what qualifies as ‘true consciousness’. Some argue that higher reasoning and the ability to dream are key components of consciousness. Understanding the difference between right and wrong.”“You don’t think Ai can understand the difference between right and wrong?”“Any sense of ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ would be a program or set of code given to the Ai. That is not the same as true conscious understanding.”“Well, humans made up rules and decided what is ‘righ...

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The Static Gambit

Submitted to Contest #312

~ Chapter One: Echoes in the Vacuum ~ The Eclipse Horizon hangs against the starless void like a shattered ribcage, its hull pocked with corrosion. Cooper and Carter approach in their shuttle, the Nexus-7, its thrusters sputtering in the station’s failing gravity field. Both wear slate-gray environmental suits, their visors reflecting the same static-laced HUD readouts. The comms crackle. Cooper: (voice taut, gloved fingers drumming the shuttle’s console) “Radiation’s chewing through the shields. Ten minutes till our suits fry.” Carter: (tr...

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WHO ARE YOU?

Submitted to Contest #312

WHO ARE YOU? Promptly at 9:55 am Dr. Mo walks through the Museum’s unlocked front door, pushes her employee card through the card reader in the Reception Area, and heads down the echoing hall to her station in the Gift Shop. The door closes automatically behind her as she places her freshly filled water bottle under her chair, runs through a quick version of her stretching routine, pulls her phone out of her pocket, plugs it into the wall socket under her chair, goes online, and prepares to settle in. There’s the usual moment of suspense b...

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Quest for a Galahad

Submitted to Contest #312

My good blade carves the casques of men, My tough lance thrusteth sure, My strength is as the strength of ten, Because my heart is pure.“That was from Sir Galahad written by Alfred 1st Baron Tennyson in 1842,” informed Intellectual Dabrowski. “And that was what Malory Tennyson read out first. Then he put out a call for people to audition for the role of Galahad for the Fog Lake re-enactments.”Intellectual Dabrowski and Psycho Motor Dabrowski, two of the five overexcitable Dabrowski Dogs, canine writing companions of Little Plump Jo, the curr...

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The Damsel and the Dragon

Submitted to Contest #312

The attack came in the middle of the night. It was one of the few nights my siblings and I weren’t in our rooms. My sisters and I were in the library, planning to sleep there through the night as my brothers went off to do whatever it was they chose that night. Our parents were in bed hours ago, but I didn’t see them in the tunnels, and the guards wouldn’t go back to check until the rest of us were out.As I watched the last of my younger siblings disappear into the tree line, I ran back into the castle. Flames were spreading quickly, and due...

10 likes 7 comments 7
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Hemingway in the Weeds

Submitted to Contest #312

Hemingway’s job was to scare off the hornets. He stood a mere three feet high, and he was designed to resemble a pelican. Studies had found that hornets are, for some reason, terrified of pelicans. Hemingway’s creator was a woman from the southern part of Delaware. She was twice-divorced with one child from her first marriage. She named the robot pelican Hemingway, because during the summer, she would reread a Hemingway novel from her stash in the spare room of her house. Whenever a problem with one of her inventions arose, she’d take a brea...

25 likes 12 comments 12
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Reflections Never Awoken

Submitted to Contest #312

No crack, no boom, no giant bolt of lightning splitting the atmosphere in two and crumbling everything around it like most of us had expected. Just a clean slice, perfectly down the middle, and a quick opening to an endless void above. Screams echoed throughout the land, bodies flailing like flies stuck in honey, and the earth rumbling beneath our feet. But nothing felt real to me. I knew the screams were there but couldn't hear them. Others were running like madmen, but I couldn't see them. And the earth started to crumble beneath my feet, ...

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Pinocch.io

Submitted to Contest #312

The computer lab stood empty. Rows of dormant machines cast a dim glow under the sterile white lights. Beyond the windows, the campus lay in darkness, broken only by a faint halo of streetlamps over the pavement.Professor Hale sat alone at the central workstation, the hum of the mainframe filling the silence. His students had gone hours ago, leaving him with the final test of the evening: a restricted AI training session.On the screen, the new model booted. A soft, synthesized voice emerged from the lab’s speakers.Pinocch.io: I am online. He...

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The Deity's Lover Informs of Mortal Breath

Submitted to Contest #312

“You don’t have to understand it all at once. Stories—they aren’t just facts or dates or beginnings and endings.”“I’ve seen infinite moments. I can fold time. Why does the telling matter?”“Because a story isn’t the moments. It’s the breath between them. It’s the space where you hesitate, where you choose what to say, and how.”“You mean the choices humans make … the mistakes, the hesitations?”“Yes, but more than mistakes. It’s the trembling hope in your voice when you start. The quiet that holds the whole room still before you speak. That’s a...

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Resurgence of the Nightbringers

Submitted to Contest #311

The kettle began to bubble, releasing a hiss that pierced through the otherwise quiet room. Everyone was watching with rapt attention as Sig did his yearly retelling of the story of the Folly. A cafe patron rushed to the kettle to remove it from the rudimentary small fire stove and began pouring out the tea into cups for everyone to pass around. Sig waited patiently, building up the anticipation for the seated audience of mainly children as well as the occasional bored adult with nothing better to do with their time. Finally once everyone wa...

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