Conquest

By Beth W. Patterson

Iron Faerie Publishing brings you... Conquest!

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse!
Four figures in the Book of Revelations who symbolize the evils to come at the end of the world.

Take a look at the stories these talented writers can tell in just 100 words!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Iron Faerie Publishing
• Release date: May 12, 2021
• ISBN: 9798223096603

Book preview

When hopes and dreams are loose in the streets, it is well for the timid to lock doors, shutter windows and lie low until the wrath has passed. For there is often a monstrous incongruity between the hopes, however noble and tender, and the action which follows them. It is as if ivied maidens and garlanded youths were to herald the four horsemen of the apocalypse.

—Eric Hoffer

Pale Reminder

ANGALENE WILEY

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The color white can be misleading. It’s assumed to be purity, righteousness. I wondered for many years if this pale, ashen color upon my stead was the reason my captor only watched as I was released. The first of my brothers and sister to find freedom in this crumbling world of Hades’ coming subjects. That fleeting look, it burned as I waited for only a second for that golden light to ensnare me again. Something like a voice called to me, led me away, a halo above my savior that was quickly overshadowed by my first glimpse of the world.

Where Do I Go From Here?

ANDREA L. STAUM

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The call to ride was clear. It was time to ride out, but there was no sign of the others. It wasn’t surprising. They had been very busy for a long time and it had filled the coffers as it were. He had met many thanks to them. It was always interesting learning about these strangers who he walked with to their final homes. He wondered if he would ever get to see them again. He hoped that when all was done, he’d get to see at least half of them, he just didn’t know which half would accept him.

Divine Intervention

BETH W. PATTERSON

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The polished wood appeared to shine pure white in the noonday sun for a just a moment. No horse of flesh and blood could measure up to this apparition that was surely a gift from Poseidon himself.

The gargantuan equine made its way through the city gates, welcomed by all. No one saw the unseen rider on his back, let alone the Achaeans hidden inside its belly.

Wood creaking, cinders flying heavenward, it burned with the rest of Troy. None survived to tell of the white pillar of smoke rising, the crest of a stallion in the bloody setting sun.

Pale Rider

CHARLOTTE LANGTREE

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He rode a pale horse, and the path behind him was littered with death. His ancient face was impassive as he watched the carnage unfold in front of him; the fires of hell swept the land, leaving red eyed demons in their wake. Screams pierced the air.

The pale rider was unmoved; he had a job to do. Skeletal hands outstretched, he reaped the souls of the dead and sent them on their way. When silence fell at last, the absence of noise somehow louder than the frenzied massacre had been, he paused to admire his