Cryptic Fiction

Welcome to Cryptic Fiction. I created this site because I believe that the art of the story is fading.

For centuries tale-smiths passed down our history and inspired us, creating new worlds that excite our imaginations and explore our humanity.

I believe that we must not trade that vital part of ourselves and replace it with action movies filled with CGI, feeding our adrenaline but failing to satisfy our intellect. It's why I write, and I thank you for giving me an opportunity to reach out to you through my first love, the written word.

The Red Tree​​​​

First, there was the supernatural glow. As moonlight cascaded from the smooth obsidian trunk, dancing in waves like raindrops over a pane of glass. Next, there was its celestial beauty. The delicate curves and twists as nature expressed not just life, but a carefree dance to accompany her down the eternal corridors of time. And then there was color. Vivid blood-red petals of infinite delicacy that were interlaced with frosted pink blooms that pulsed like the beating heart of the cosmos.

The “Tree of the World,” sits atop Mount Olympus. While directly beneath it, the waterfall of Enipeas flows down to the springs of Feneos, which in turn becomes the river Styx. And it is that river which separates the land of the living, from the land of the dead. The Norse people named this sacred tree Yggdrasil, the Chinese call it Jian-Mu, while in Hindu lands it is known as the Ashvattha.

Yet names did not concern Gaia, whose own included Terra, and Tellus. Only the task set before her mattered. She was to be the protector of the tree, a statue of perfection, and the lone sentinel that would keep the greed, violence, and hubris of humanity at bay. Until the time of the prophecy could be fulfilled. When one would come that would join the tribes, and bring peace to the Earth.

Gaia knew that she would have to wait a long time, a long time indeed...

Painting by.  Laurie Ann Carr