Hi y'all my name is Hameedah.
This is my portfolio page and if you do not like fantasy.
Then you should probably leave now!.
But if you do like fantasy, then stay and enjoy.
I will be using this page to share fantasy stories and more. Obviously , i will be sharing my own stories and also some of my favorite fantasy stories from other authors.
Fantasy is a genre that allows us to escape reality and explore the realms of imagination.
From epic quests to magical creatures, fantasy stories transport us to worlds filled with wonder and adventure.
Feel free to explore and immerse yourself in magical worlds I love.
If you are still here, then you must be a fantasy lover like me!
I am a passionate writer and reader of fantasy literature. My love for fantasy began at a young age when I discovered the enchanting worlds created by authors like J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis. Since then, I have been captivated by the power of storytelling and the ability of fantasy to inspire and transport us to different realms. In my free time, I enjoy writing my own fantasy stories, drawing inspiration from the rich tapestry of myths, legends, and folklore from around the world. Through this portfolio, I hope to share my passion for fantasy and connect with fellow enthusiasts who appreciate the magic of storytelling. Thank you for visiting my portfolio page, and I hope you find joy in the fantastic worlds I share. Feel free to reach out if you have any questions or if you'd like to share your own fantasy stories with me!
On Slack,I am called hameedah.
In a small village nestled among the misty mountains of Korea, lived a girl named Du Yang. She was known not for her boisterous laughter or her swift feet, but for the quiet, thoughtful way she observed the world. Every night, she would sit on the porch of her family’s hanok, wrapped in a warm shawl, and watch the Star-Weaver. This was the name the villagers gave to the brightest star in the sky, a brilliant, pulsating jewel that seemed to hold all the others in a cosmic net. It was the Star-Weaver that guided the fishermen home and blessed the farmers' fields. But one night, a strange hush fell over the village. The Star-Weaver, once a beacon of pure light, began to flicker, its light growing dim. The other stars followed suit, winking out one by one like scattered embers. A cool, grey twilight settled over the land, and with it, a creeping sadness. The villagers worried and whispered, their songs growing softer and their smiles rarer. Driven by a simple, quiet certainty, Du Yang decided she had to find out why the Star-Weaver was fading. Late that night, as the moon cast long, eerie shadows, she discovered an old wooden lantern in a dusty corner of the shed. It was a beautiful thing, intricately carved with swirling clouds and tiny, smiling creatures. When she touched it, the carvings glowed with a faint, warm light, and a voice—no louder than a whisper of wind through pine needles—filled her mind. “Find the Star-Weaver’s thread, little one. The light is tangling.”
With the lantern in hand and her heart a mix of fear and resolve, Du Yang began her journey. She followed the path of a half-forgotten legend that spoke of a hidden path to the sky. Her first challenge came in the Forest of Whispers, where the trees seemed to lean in and murmur secrets. A mischievous dokkaebi, a little goblin with a single horn and a grin full of sharp teeth, leapt from behind a tree. “Ho, little human! What brings you to my woods?” the dokkaebi chortled, its eyes gleaming. “Perhaps you’d like to play a game? If you win, I’ll tell you the path. If you lose… well, you’ll be my new plaything!” Du Yang didn’t have a clever retort, nor did she feel the urge to run. Instead, she looked at the dokkaebi and saw not a menace, but a lonely creature. She simply smiled and offered him a handful of dried persimmons she had packed for her journey. “I don’t want to play a game,” she said softly. “But I can share my treats with a new friend.”
The dokkaebi was so shocked that its jaw dropped open. No one had ever offered it kindness before. It took the persimmons, its face softening into a genuine smile. In return for her generosity, it pulled a single, shimmering strand of silk from its horn. “This is a piece of the First Spider’s web,” the dokkaebi said, handing it to her. “It untangles what is knotted and tangled. You will need it where you are going.”
With the magical silk thread tucked carefully into her sleeve, Du Yang continued her journey, crossing a river of silver moonlight on stepping stones of jade and climbing the Peak of the Celestial Harp. At the very top, nestled on a cloud, was a sight that stole her breath. The Star-Weaver was not a single star, but a magnificent, cosmic spider, its legs as long as mountains and its body a nebula of glittering gas. Its web, which was the entire night sky, was indeed tangled. A dark, shadowy creature with no discernible shape, the Void-Eater, was gnawing at the threads, pulling them apart and swallowing their light. Du Yang knew what she had to do. Holding the lantern high, she whispered, “You are not alone.” The lantern’s light grew brighter, a beacon of pure hope in the encroaching gloom. The Star-Weaver, seeing her, reached out a leg, and Du Yang, with the silken thread from the dokkaebi in hand, began to work. She wrapped the magical thread around the Void-Eater, pulling it away from the Star-Weaver’s delicate web. With each tug, the celestial spider began to re-weave the stars, Du Yang's small but steady hands guiding its efforts. Slowly, the darkness receded. The stars, once dim, began to burn brightly again. The Void-Eater, unable to withstand the combined light of Du Yang’s lantern and the Star-Weaver’s newly mended web, shrieked and dissolved into nothingness.
When Du Yang returned to her village, the stars were a brilliant canopy overhead once more. The villagers looked up in awe, their songs and laughter returning louder than before. No one saw her arrive, but they all felt the change. Du Yang, for her part, was just glad the world was bright again. She hung the lantern on her porch, no longer just a girl who watched the stars, but a quiet guardian who had helped them shine.
And so, the Star-Weaver continued to weave its threads across the sky, a reminder that even in the darkest times, light can be found through kindness and courage.
In the heart of a hidden valley, cradled by the whispering peaks of the Celestial Mountains, lay the village of Eldoria. Here, the clans of the Elements lived side by side, yet their hearts were far apart. The Stone-shapers, with their mastery over the earth, quarreled with the Torrent-weavers, who commanded the rushing waters. The Wind-singers, who danced with the air, scoffed at the Flame-kindlers, who practiced their fiery arts in solitude. At the center of it all was Kaelen, the revered Weaver of Whispers, an artisan who could bind threads of magic into powerful artifacts, but even his skill could not mend the growing rifts in his village.
One day, a malevolent force, the Shadeblight, seeped from the shadows of the mountains. It was a creeping, magical darkness that consumed all light and life, and it fed on discord. The villagers, once a beacon of elemental power, now found their individual magics weakening under the blight's oppressive presence. The Stone-shapers tried to erect walls of impenetrable granite, but the darkness crumbled them to dust. The Torrent-weavers summoned waves to wash it away, but the Shadeblight drank the water, leaving nothing but dust. The Wind-singers and Flame-kindlers fought in vain, their gusts and fires extinguished by the encroaching gloom. All their solitary efforts were for naught. Kaelen, seeing the village's doom, stood at the heart of the fading square and called out, "A single thread of magic is easily broken, but a tapestry woven with many threads can bind the very stars! A single flame gives only a flicker, but a hundred flames together can forge a new sun! Our strength is not in our solitary power, but in our unity."
His words pierced the despair. The clans, humbled by their failure, finally listened. The Stone-shapers used their earth magic not for walls, but to anchor the village against the blight's chilling pull. The Torrent-weavers conjured purifying mists that pushed back the shadow's advance. The Wind-singers wove gusts of charged air to empower the magics of the others, and the Flame-kindlers ignited their passion, creating a sacred fire at the village's core. They worked as one, their elemental powers swirling together into a vortex of unified light and energy. The discordant murmurs of the village faded, replaced by the harmonious symphony of their combined efforts. The magic they created together was far more potent than any they had wielded alone. From the heart of the village, a new magical artifact was forged—a Chalice of Unison—which shone with a radiant light, pushing the Shadeblight back into the abyss from which it came. When the darkness had receded, Eldoria was forever changed. The elemental clans, having seen the true power of their combined strength, no longer held themselves apart. They had learned that the most powerful magic in the world was not fire or earth or water or air, but the unbreakable bond of unity that connected them all
Kaelen, the Weaver of Whispers, stood at the center of the village square, his heart swelling with pride. The Chalice of Unison was placed in the center of Eldoria, a symbol of their newfound harmony. The villagers gathered around it, their faces illuminated by its warm glow, and they vowed to protect not only their village but also the bonds that had saved them. From that day forward, Eldoria thrived, its clans working together to harness the magic of the elements in ways they had never imagined. The village became a beacon of hope and unity, a place where the shadows of discord could never again take root. And so, the legend of Eldoria grew, a tale of how the power of unity could overcome even the darkest of shadows. And in the heart of the village, the Chalice of Unison stood as a reminder that together, they were stronger than any darkness that threatened to engulf them.
Once upon a time, in the ancient kingdom of Phrygia, there lived a powerful and wealthy king named Midas. He possessed a vast treasury filled with more gold than he could ever count, but Midas was a greedy man. He loved gold more than anything in the world—more than his beautiful daughter, more than the sweet scent of the flowers in his garden, and more than the delicious food on his table. One day, while strolling in his garden, Midas found an old satyr named Silenus, a companion of the god of wine, Dionysus, sleeping off the effects of a lively celebration. Midas, being a kind host despite his greed, took the satyr into his palace and cared for him with great hospitality for ten days and ten nights. When Silenus was well enough to return to his master, Dionysus came to Midas to thank him for his kindness. "For your generous treatment of my friend," the god said, "I will grant you one wish. Anything you desire in this world is yours for the asking." Midas's eyes gleamed with avarice.
Without a moment's hesitation, he declared, "I wish that everything I touch turns to solid gold!"
Dionysus, with a sad look in his eyes, granted the wish. "It shall be as you desire, King Midas. But be careful what you wish for, for it may not bring you the happiness you seek."
The next morning, Midas awoke filled with a giddy excitement. He stretched out his hand and touched the wooden bedpost. Instantly, it transformed into a glittering pillar of gold. He sprang from his bed and touched his royal robes, which turned into a heavy, golden garment. He ran through his palace, touching chairs, tables, and ornaments, each object turning to gold under his enchanted hand. He laughed with pure delight, believing he had become the most fortunate man on Earth. His joy, however, was short-lived. A servant brought him a tray of fresh fruits and bread for his breakfast. As Midas reached for a cluster of grapes, the juicy fruit hardened into golden spheres. The bread became a heavy, inedible loaf of gold. He tried to drink a cup of water, but the liquid turned into a golden metal before it could touch his lips. He was surrounded by wealth, but he could no longer eat or drink. It was then that his beloved daughter, Zoe, came running into the room to embrace him. "Father, look at all the gold!" she exclaimed. Midas, forgetting his curse for a moment, reached out to hug her. The instant his hands touched her, his daughter's soft, warm skin turned cold and hard, transforming her into a beautiful but lifeless golden statue. Midas's heart was broken. He wept tears of despair, realizing the terrible price of his greed. He had lost everything that truly mattered: the simple pleasures of life, and the love of his own daughter. In his grief, he cried out to Dionysus, "Oh, great god, please take this curse away! I have learned my lesson. I do not want this power, and I do not want this gold. I only want my daughter and my life back." Dionysus heard his plea and took pity on the king. "Go to the source of the river Pactolus," the god commanded. "Dip your hands into the water and wash away your foolish wish."
Midas did as he was told. He traveled to the river and plunged his hands into the cool, clear water. As he did, he felt the magic leaving his body, and he watched as golden flakes drifted downstream. He then rushed back to his palace and sprinkled the river water on the golden statue of his daughter. Slowly, the gold melted away, and his beloved Zoe returned to life, running into his arms with a joyous cry. From that day on, Midas was a changed man. He no longer cared for riches. He sold his vast treasure and lived a simple life, finding his greatest joy in the simple things—the warmth of the sun, the scent of a fresh rose, and the company of his daughter. The river Pactolus, it is said, still contains flecks of gold to this day, a permanent reminder of King Midas's lesson about the true value of life and love over material wealth.
Cinderella, a kind and beautiful girl, endures a life of servitude at the hands of her cruel stepmother and two selfish stepsisters. One day, a royal ball is announced, and every maiden in the kingdom is invited in the hopes that the Prince will find a bride. The stepsisters mock Cinderella's wish to attend, tearing apart the dress she had made for herself.
Left alone in despair, a magical Fairy Godmother appears. With a wave of her wand, she transforms a pumpkin into a magnificent carriage, mice into horses, and Cinderella's rags into a breathtaking gown, complete with a pair of exquisite glass slippers. The Fairy Godmother gives her one warning: the magic will end at midnight.
At the ball, Cinderella is a vision of grace and beauty. The Prince is enchanted by her and they spend the entire evening dancing. As the clock begins to strike midnight, Cinderella flees, leaving the Prince heartbroken and holding nothing but a single glass slipper she dropped on the stairs
Determined to find the mysterious girl, the Prince declares that he will marry the one whose foot fits the slipper. The royal messengers travel throughout the kingdom, but no one can wear the tiny shoe. When they arrive at Cinderella's house, her stepsisters try in vain to force their feet into the slipper. The stepmother tries to hide Cinderella, but the Prince insists that every maiden must be given a chance.
The glass slipper fits Cinderella's foot perfectly. The Prince, overjoyed, recognizes her as the girl from the ball. He marries her, and they live happily ever after, while her stepfamily is left to face the consequences of their cruelty.