#africanlore

An original short story by me. Follow me on insta for more @kriolagriot

She Who Was Called Kriola They said she was beautiful, but no one could agree why.

Some said it was the way she stood still while the wind moved around her.

Others said it was her voice — low, unhurried — as if it had crossed water before reaching the ear.

She was born on an island that watched ships leave more often than they returned. Her mother named her nothing that could be pronounced easily, so strangers called her Kriola — not knowing it was not a name but a recognition.

Men loved her quietly.

The loud ones did not last.

One left for another island and never wrote.

One promised to return after the harvest and married elsewhere.

One stayed, but learned too late that staying is not the same as knowing.

They remembered her long after she stopped waiting.

When she died, they said the sea pulled back further than usual that year. The elders noticed the wind changed direction for three days. Someone swore they heard her voice in the evenings — not calling, not mourning — only remembering.

To this day, women born on that island carry her posture without knowing her name.

a Song of Wraiths and Ruin

BY Roseanne A. Brown

The Value of what you’ve lost is irreplaceable. thus, the vaule of the information you see is irreplaceable as well”

A Song of Wraiths and Ruin is a wildly lush read! From the first few chapters, you get a sense of urgency that doesn’t go away. I flipped through this book in a day. If you like fantasy, drama, riddles, and magic, this if the book for you.

What is this…