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@edvane.bsky.socialSep 25, 2026, 6:09 PM

#vss365 “I #reckon it fled to the caves,” Fredor said. “A beast that size leaves tracks.” Tanner snorted. “No dice, it’s above us.” The mossy boulder beside them exhaled a hot, sulphuric breath, and two yellow eyes opened. #Edvane #DarkFantasy

Dark fantasy illustration of two medieval hunters arguing in a damp, mossy forest. One studies a map while the other points towards the ridge, neither noticing that the huge moss-covered boulder beside them is alive. Two wet yellow reptilian eyes stare from its stony surface as warm breath curls into the cold air. A parchment panel on the left contains the #vss365 story text.
@edvane.bsky.socialSep 24, 2026, 1:41 PM

#vss365 When famine arrived, the Fear Gorta came begging at each cottage door. Some shared what little they had. Others cursed his #hunger and drove him back into the cold.

By spring, the generous houses had full larders.

In the others, they were eating the dead. #Edvane #DarkFantasy

A dark Irish folklore scene inside a poor stone cottage. In the open doorway, the unnaturally tall, skeletal Fear Gorta stands full-length in pouring rain, one hand extended for food. A father raises a hand to refuse him while his anxious wife and two children watch beside a rough table with a single loaf. A parchment panel tells how generous households survived the famine, while in the others, “they were eating the dead.”
@edvane.bsky.socialSep 23, 2026, 1:46 PM

#vss365 A sculptor worked by candlelight, carving his dead wife from black marble. Such was his #passion that every vein, lash and wrinkle returned beneath his hands.

Eventually, the statue opened its eyes. He wept with joy.

Then she whispered, “You buried me alive.” #Edvane #DarkFantasy

Dark Gothic illustration of a candlelit Victorian sculptor’s workshop. A dishevelled sculptor joyfully touches the face of a life-sized woman carved entirely from black marble. Her eyes are open and stark, featureless white as she stares accusingly at him. Chisels, marble dust and candles surround them. A parchment panel tells how he carved his supposedly dead wife back to life, only for her to whisper, “You buried me alive.”
@edvane.bsky.socialSep 22, 2026, 12:52 PM

In Emmie and the Black Orchard, I wanted to use a dark fairy tale to explore the cost of love: sacrificing even the memory of having loved.

It created a nasty paradox. Everyone remembers who they love because Emmie agrees to be the one person who cannot.

LINK IN COMMENTS

#Edvane #FairyTale

@edvane.bsky.socialSep 22, 2026, 11:58 AM

#vss365 The SS Chimbayo was due to #embark for Alaska with machinery, lamp oil and winter provisions. She departed on time, but never arrived.

Decades later, she steamed into harbour through January fog. Every man aboard was dead. All of them were frozen upright at their posts. #Edvane #DarkFantasy

Dark maritime fantasy illustration of the long-lost SS Chimbayo gliding into a frozen Alaskan harbour through dense January fog. The steamship is heavily coated in ice and icicles, with its dead crew frozen upright at their posts, including the helmsman gripping the wheel and a lookout high on the mast. Shocked dockworkers watch from the snowy quay, one holding a mooring line from the ship. A parchment panel tells how the vessel vanished en route to Alaska and returned decades later with every man aboard frozen dead.
@edvane.bsky.socialSep 21, 2026, 2:59 PM

#vss365 On a #stormy crossing, the crew of a steamer sighted another vessel pacing them through the rain. Its decks were crowded with dancing skeletons and drowned men in rotting evening clothes, glasses raised beneath strings of yellow lamps... #Edvane #DarkFantasy

Dark fantasy maritime illustration. During a violent night storm, terrified sailors aboard a coastal steamer watch the long-lost SS Cowper steaming alongside through black, heaving seas. Warm yellow lamps illuminate her crowded decks, where skeletons and drowned Victorians in decaying evening clothes dance, drink and celebrate as though at an elegant party, oblivious to the living witnesses. The ship’s name, SS COWPER, is visible on her stern beneath smoke, driving rain and lightning.
@edvane.bsky.socialSep 20, 2026, 6:02 PM

#vss365 Baron Ludlow ended the thirty-year #conflict by marrying his daughter to his enemy’s son. The wedding lasted three days, and both houses swore the old hatred was buried.

The next morning, the bride was found hanging from the gate. Pinned to her dress was the treaty #Edvane #DarkFantasy

A dark fantasy illustration of a grim medieval castle gate at cold dawn. A dead bride in a pale, tattered wedding gown hangs beneath the Gothic arch, a blood-marked peace treaty pinned prominently to her dress. Guards and servants stare up from a courtyard littered with wilted wedding flowers, torn decorations and abandoned feast debris. Ravens perch on the battlements beneath a bruised grey-blue sky. A parchment panel at left tells how Baron Ludlow ended a thirty-year conflict through his daughter’s marriage, only for her to be found dead the following morning with the treaty signed in her father’s blood.
@edvane.bsky.socialSep 19, 2026, 5:14 PM

#vss365 On Thursday, the miners broke through into a cavern no map recorded. Inside stood a forest of crystal trees. For hours they wandered in #marvel, touching leaves as cold as winter glass.

Then one man found his own name carved into a trunk, followed by ‘Friday’. #Edvane #DarkFantasy

A dark Victorian-style illustration shows miners exploring a vast underground forest of luminous crystal trees. Cold blue-white branches tower into the cavern while the miners’ lanterns cast small pools of amber light. One miner stands apart, touching a crystal trunk carved with the name “EDWARD” and, beneath it, “FRIDAY”. An aged parchment panel contains the accompanying story.
@edvane.bsky.socialSep 16, 2026, 6:07 PM

#vss365 For a hundred years, a Potioneer kept one brew simmering beneath his tower. On the final night, he took up a silver spoon.

“One stir,” his master’s notes promised, “and the work may #commence.” He stirred. Something beneath grasped the spoon and stirred back. #Edvane #DarkFantasy

A 16:9 dark fantasy illustration framed by a thin antiquarian border. The left third is a parchment text panel containing a short #vss365 story about a Potioneer who has kept a black brew simmering for a hundred years and, when he finally stirs it, something beneath grasps the spoon and stirs back. The right two-thirds show an underground alchemical chamber of stone arches, shelves of jars, dried herbs and skulls. An elderly, gaunt Potioneer in dark robes leans over a huge iron cauldron, his face lit by firelight and fixed in shock. He grips a long silver spoon, while from the glossy black surface of the potion a black claw-like hand emerges just far enough for its fingertips to seize the spoon. The scene is lit with deep shadows, orange fire beneath the cauldron, and a mood of sudden, intimate horror. “edvane.world” appears at bottom right.
@edvane.bsky.socialSep 14, 2026, 8:26 AM

#vss365 He was strangely #sanguine about the king’s illness. Each morning the fever worsened. A week later, the king died. As the bells began to toll, the physician slipped the empty poison vial back into his case.

“Nothing to fear, Highness,” he said, and bowed to the new king #Edvane #DarkFantasy

Dark medieval royal bedchamber lit by candles. A dead king lies beneath heavy red curtains while grieving courtiers stand nearby. In the foreground, a black-robed physician bows to the richly dressed new king while discreetly slipping an empty poison vial into an open medical case. A distant bell tower is visible through the window. The left third contains the #vss365 story on parchment, bordered by a thin antiquarian frame.
@edvane.bsky.socialSep 13, 2026, 3:34 PM

#vss365 The people feared the old woman’s #esoteric rituals. Once a year, she buried thirteen black candles around the village and warned them never to dig them up. When she died, the priest ordered every candle burned...
#Edvane #DarkFantasy

Dark Gothic historical illustration of a medieval chapel at night. A dead priest lies across a stone altar with thirteen black candles burning low directly upon his body, wax spilling over his dark vestments. Frightened villagers watch from the shadowed doorway by lantern light. A parchment panel at left contains the #vss365 story about an old woman’s esoteric ritual and the thirteen candles.
@edvane.bsky.socialSep 12, 2026, 10:33 AM

#vss365 The condemned witch was spared because of her #eloquence. The king freed every prisoner in the dungeons and opened the city gates. The prisoners armed themselves. His enemies marched in.

“I only had to teach you mercy, Majesty. They already knew what to do with it.” #Edvane #DarkFantasy

Dark medieval illustration of a castle courtyard after a violent uprising. An attractive dark-haired witch bows calmly as armed rebels drag a dishevelled, richly dressed king towards a wooden scaffold and waiting executioner. Behind them, prisoners and enemy soldiers pour through the open gates amid smoke, fire, fallen banners and bodies. A parchment panel on the left contains the #vss365 story about the witch’s eloquence turning the king’s mercy against him.
@edvane.bsky.socialSep 11, 2026, 10:20 AM

#vss365 A girl left a bowl of milk outside each night for the terror in the woods, and they mocked her #naivete. Her father laughed hardest. A year later, every house but theirs stood empty. He asked why they had been spared.

“It said you had to be last, Father.” #Edvane #DarkFantasy

Alt text: Dark antiquarian folklore illustration. A pale, emotionally drained young girl stands with her increasingly terrified father immediately outside their lamplit cottage, beside a bowl of milk at the forest’s edge. Beyond them, the abandoned village lies dark and empty. Among the trees, an impossibly tall presence is almost indistinguishable from trunks and shadows, with only two faint eyes visible high in the branches. A parchment panel carries the #vss365 story about the girl’s naivete and the revelation that her father has been saved for last.
@edvane.bsky.socialSep 10, 2026, 7:00 PM

Back in early August, when @bethcgreenberg.com
hosted #vss365, I posted this, and Beth and I had a brief exchange about it on Bluesky. She declared, 'I would read that story!' and so I present 'An Old Family Recipe' here today. LINK IN COMMENTS #Edvane

@edvane.bsky.socialSep 10, 2026, 10:36 AM

#vss365 They found it beneath the old apothecary, a #melange of man, beast and devils, stitched together by twisted hands. It opened six different eyes. The priest called it an abomination. The mayor called it impossible. Then its mouths opened too.
“Wrong, sirs. We are hungry.” #Edvane #DarkFantasy

A 16:9 Gothic horror illustration styled like a richly coloured 19th-century engraving. A parchment panel on the left contains the #vss365 story. On the right, beneath an ancient apothecary, a grotesque stitched creature looms from a cluttered candlelit chamber. Its impossible body combines human flesh, scales, hide, horns and demonic tissue, with mismatched limbs, six different eyes and several ravenous mouths opening across its body. A terrified priest and mayor recoil before it amid cloudy specimen jars, hanging herbs, surgical instruments and bloodstained equipment. The whole image is enclosed by a thin antiquarian border.
@edvane.bsky.socialSep 10, 2026, 10:09 AM

*How to let an object tell its own story*. The object as narrator is rarely used well in fantasy. When it works, the thing remembers everything, stripping away the consolation of human perspective and leaving no escape from the moment. #Edvane #DarkFantasy

LINK IN COMMENTS

@edvane.bsky.socialSep 9, 2026, 10:19 AM

#vss365 The witchfinder claimed #intuition told him which women served the Devil, without evidence. The midwife burned first. Then the widow. Then the miller’s daughter. At his fourth trial, the accused woman smiled. “Of course you can recognise us,” she said. “You created us.” #Edvane #DarkFantasy

Dark historical-fantasy illustration of a late-17th-century witch trial. A calm, restrained woman gives the uneasy witchfinder a faint knowing smile inside a timber courtroom. Outside, three burned stakes still smoke, with three ghostly female shapes barely visible in the drifting haze. The left panel contains the #vss365 story about “intuition” and ends: “You created us.”
@edvane.bsky.socialSep 8, 2026, 10:08 AM

#vss365 The fishermen laughed when Old Meg stepped onto the #moonglade and walked out across the sea. Drunk and daring, they rowed after her silver path. Their boat drifted back empty. Meg was waiting near the shore.

“Fools,” she said. “The moon only shows you where to drown.” #Edvane #DarkFantasy

A 16:9 antiquarian maritime illustration. On the left, a weathered parchment panel contains a dark #vss365 tale about Gloucester fishermen following the witch Old Meg onto a moonlit path across the sea and never returning. On the right, an elderly woman in dark, windblown New England clothing stands calmly on the rocky Gloucester shore beneath heavy clouds. An empty wooden fishing boat, with a loose oar trailing beside it, drifts back along a brilliant silver moonglade beneath the full moon. Dark water, sea spray, distant harbour buildings and a lighthouse create an ominous 19th-century folklore atmosphere.
@edvane.bsky.socialSep 7, 2026, 7:40 PM

In The Children of Bradfield Wood, I wanted to reimagine the Green Children of Woolpit: not as monsters, nor as victims of a monstrous forest, but as children put there by the real monster. Their father.

Some adult, somewhere, knew the truth.

LINK IN COMMENT #Edvane #Folklore

@edvane.bsky.socialSep 7, 2026, 2:57 PM

#vss365 The monk found a #palimpsest beneath the monastery’s oldest Bible. He scraped away the holy text and read the words hidden underneath. They described his birth. His childhood. His taking of vows. Then his hand stopped. The next line read:

He has found us

#Edvane #DarkFantasy

Dark medieval illustration of a monk studying a scraped palimpsest by candlelight in a cramped monastic scriptorium. He stares grimly at the manuscript while several pale, almost invisible human faces watch from the deep shadows behind him. A parchment panel tells the story, ending: “He has found us.”
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