Alisher Jumayev
Bio
Creative and Professional Writing Skill & Experience. The aim is to give spiritual, impressive, and emotional stories for readers.
Stories (21)
Filter by community
The Last Ember of Aravelle
Aravelle had always been a kingdom of fire. Not destructive fire—but living flame. The ancient Emberstone at the heart of the capital city, Solinaris, glowed with an eternal light that warmed crops, filled the sky with a soft golden haze, and kept the darkness of the Netherdeep at bay. Children were taught that as long as the Ember burned, Aravelle would endure.
By Alisher Jumayev2 months ago in Fiction
Beneath the Willow Sky
The summer I turned sixteen was the year everything changed—though change rarely announces itself with fanfare. Mine arrived quietly, as the warm breeze that brushed through the willow leaves behind our old neighborhood library. That willow tree was where I spent nearly every afternoon: reading, pretending to study, avoiding my mother’s sharp questions about my future, and thinking about everything and nothing at once.
By Alisher Jumayev2 months ago in Fiction
PART II — THE SKY THAT REMEMBERS
The instant Kael and Elara stepped through the star-lit arch, the ground vanished beneath their feet. Wind roared around them. Colors bled like liquid starlight, swirling in impossible shapes—spirals of violet flame, rivers of gold flowing upward, fragments of constellations drifting like snow.
By Alisher Jumayev2 months ago in Fiction
THE LANTERN OF THE LAST SKY
Wind curled like silver ribbons along the cliffs of Asterfall, carrying scents of pine, cold stone, and something older—something the villagers only whispered about when night grew too still. As dawn painted the sky in molten rose, Kael Rowan, apprentice mapmaker, sat on the highest rock ledge with his boots dangling over the abyss.
By Alisher Jumayev2 months ago in Fiction
The Girl Who Vanished Twice
On the night Emily Soren disappeared, rain hammered the streets of Graybridge like a warning no one wanted to hear. Detective Mara Hale arrived at the crime scene soaked to the bone, her flashlight slicing through the mist as officers moved in tight, nervous motions.
By Alisher Jumayev2 months ago in Fiction
Ashes of Two Roses
The first time Leila Vardani saw Arman Soltoyev, the sun had just dipped below the mountains, turning the sky into a slow-bleeding crimson—an omen, her grandmother would have said. But Leila didn’t believe in omens. She believed in instinct. And every instinct she had whispered one thing the moment his eyes locked with hers:
By Alisher Jumayev2 months ago in Fiction