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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.

15120+ 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 8 of 1008

Fated meeting

M B

Submitted to Contest #302

The large fist whisked past Takeshi’s face as he managed to lean his head back at just the right second. The ronin retaliated with a jab to the ribs of the bearded man, sending him staggering back. All around the tavern was clamoring with cheers and jeers. Takeshi had never been one to back down to a fight, in fact he had always hurled himself headlong into battle like a true samurai. But this time he realized he may have bit off more than he could chew. His katana lay out of reach, it was useless in such close quarters, and there were at le...

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The Signal From Eris

Submitted to Contest #302

The dwarf planet Eris hung in the viewport, a pale, icy speck against the void. Dr. Laura Voss adjusted her glasses and squinted at the data streaming across her console. The research station, Aurora, orbited Eris in a lonely ellipse, its crew of six tasked with studying the Kuiper Belt’s most distant denizen. Laura, a linguist specializing in computational semiotics, had joined the mission to analyze potential patterns in cosmic background noise—patterns that might hint at extraterrestrial intelligence. It was a long shot, she knew, but the...

6 likes 1 comment 1
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Dear Satan, I Have Been a Very Good Boy

Submitted to Contest #302

It isn’t often that Lucifer Morningstar received a letter. When the envelope came across his desk, the King of Hell was intrigued. He held it, examining the childishly scrawled words on the front. There was no return address. There was hardly anything to indicate it was actually for Lucifer. It said “Satan’s Workshop” on the front and it had found its way to his desk.Taking a hold of an ornate letter opener (because Lucifer found pleasure in having nice things), he sliced open the envelope. The letter fell into his hand.“Dear Satan,My name i...

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Monaxia

Submitted to Contest #302

I had been writing in my notebook when I saw the boat approach. I walked to the edge of the beach to watch it arrive. It was an impressive looking ship, almost 500 feet in length, and three separate masts that looked like they could cover the entirety of the island if they were stretched out. I had no binoculars for looking, and so I figured they would have seen me through their binoculars, although I doubted they cared. An old, raggedy man with a grown out beard in nothing but a torn pair of shorts. They would likely gloss right over me, as...

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What's In A Name

Submitted to Contest #302

** Kye’s POV between “Brown Eyes” and “Charmed” ** “Kye?”A strange sound wakes me. It sounds like a voice but I do not understand what it says.“Kye.”Cold. Cold, I am so cold. My body shivers.Something soft and warm touches my face. It smells like peaches and like something more like a forest.“Kye.”There is that strange sound again. It is close, right above me.“Open your eyes, Kye. Let me see your eyes.”I obey.A girl sits next to me. She has long curly hair and big eyes. She is frowning. Why is she frowning? I did what she asked. Did I do it ...

13 likes 4 comments 4
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Instructions for the Rain

Submitted to Contest #302

The first word he did not understand made him cry—not from confusion, but from the echo of it. Henrique Duarte, twenty-seven, translator of obscure briefs, stared at the envelope left beneath his Copan Building door during the night. The handwriting on the label wavered like fireflies trapped behind frosted glass; still, it felt familiar, as though sketched in another century by a hand he himself had forgotten being. Inside lay thirty-two rust-colored sheets that smelled of lightning after rain. The printed symbols danced between balding ide...

7 likes 2 comments 2
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What if?

Submitted to Contest #302

Pieces of my skin are peeling off of my rotten flesh with every little branch touching my body. Or maybe it’s just the wind. Maybe the only wind is the one caused by how fast I am running, running through everything, only being able to see the slow change of scenery with the blurred lines in the corner of my eye. If there was a heart in my chest, I’m sure it would be beating fast right now, and not because of the exercise. Being scared doesn’t quite describe what I’m feeling, I don’t think any word does, but then again I’m no expert of words...

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If the Senescence Doesn’t Get You, the Absorbins Will

Submitted to Contest #302

The two guards march in front of the tomb of King Zeno, their armor squeaking derisively. Sighing heavily, Achille Albano sits on the steps, rubbing his aching feet. “What happened to us as a people, Milo? It only took ten years for the Minoan civilization to fall.” “Instead of shaking the Atlanteans’ hands, we should have chopped them off,” the stocky guard replies. “They promised prosperity and brought us cholera.” “I know. I was there when your wife and children died, just as you attended my family’s funeral rites.” “Two hundred thousand...

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The Key in the Woods

Submitted to Contest #302

The wind whispered secrets through the tall pine trees as Elara stumbled upon the old, rusted key. It was half-buried beneath a patch of damp moss, glinting in the fading light like a shard of forgotten history. She knelt, brushing dirt from its intricate carvings. They looked ancient, symbols she didn’t recognize—circles within triangles, a crescent moon beneath a crooked star. "Where do you belong?" she murmured to the key, though she half-expected no answer. She hadn't planned to wander this far. She’d only meant to clear her head, to esc...

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Lost Soul

Submitted to Contest #302

Nathan cursed his bad luck as the sky all too quickly began to darken, the setting sun mocking him as it raced ever closer to the horizon behind him with land but a tantalizing few miles away. His old sailboat, once his pride and joy before the world went to hell but now as worn and weary as he was, would not get to dock until morning; one more night of hunger would not kill him, but going ashore after nightfall most certainly would. He could already hear the screeches of the Others echoing from land, piercing the air so sharply as to reach ...

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The Chosen Brother

Submitted to Contest #302

The sounds of battle echoed throughout the valley. It had been a quiet morning, the sparse grass blowing gently in a breeze from the ocean. The sky was clear, the birds loud as they flew about catching bugs. A few sheep, raggedy and dirty, grazed absently. Even the dogs scattered about the property frolicked, their tongues lolling. Every being took advantage of the breezy morning before the sun rose high and the heat wrapped everything in stickiness.And then shouts and chaos broke the idyll. The sheep scattered, birds fled into the air, and ...

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Fruere fabulae tristis. (Enjoy the Grimm Tale)

Submitted to Contest #302

Greater Falvorn. The country that beholds the fabled Broken Bell, a mystical object, cocooned in their own city of Clankridge. The splendid autumn rainbow of trees and caramel apple sweets—a recent development of our beloved king (and my dear father) Jeremias Caecus, may he rule many years. Clankridge is home to many a stranger. It was founded by no one other than our beloved founder George Bolthorn under the great Irish siege over two hundred years past. Bolthorn was a tiny fellow of our country’s great rulers, yet he still fought and won. ...

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Portly Scribe Aforementioned : Canon Fodder

Submitted to Contest #302

“Portly Scribe Aforementioned requests admittance in order to complete parchment entries relating to King Arthur’s Medical Benefits Scheme for one Jenner Sapper.”Intellectual Dabrowski, one of the five overexcitable Dabrowski Dogs, (who were Little Plump Jo’s writing companions), had organized an audition to determine the characters Jo would be needing for her Arthurian stories. Ever since the audition there had been a steady stream of visitors to Malory Tennyson’s Cloudbank Cabin for Arthurian Studies by characters who were not part of the ...

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Prince Charming

Submitted to Contest #302

I am, most assuredly, not a prince. If you kiss me, I will continue to be exactly what I am, which is not a prince. Although I have not been alive for very long, I know this to be true. Some other things I know to be true are as follows:1. I was born in a small creek which winds serenely through a patch of untamed woods until lazily spilling out into a river some five miles or so away.2. I have no idea what “miles” are or how far they might be.3. I am very good at making myself sound knowledgeable.4. I am also very good at making lists.5. I ...

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The Wreck of the Sæbjörn

Submitted to Contest #302

Pulling up to the house, the first thing I noticed was the pirate on the front lawn. If I told you I remembered the name of the boy in my car, I’d be lying. Was he a man? He was. I say “boy” because I felt bad for him, and when I’m filled with pity, men become boys. I asked about the pirate. He told me not to worry, because the pirate was from Iceland and Icelandic pirates are known to be docile in the winter months. They have to be. They’re freezing to death. I asked the name of the house, but it was unpronounceable. The boy took a piece of...

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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