About the Author

My name is Lorian. Rooted in slavic tradition. Pagan, slavic witch, a dark fae at heart.
we are jewels in the crown of midnight, dark obsidian tears, made of moonlight and blood rippling on sorrows’ surface, disturbing the night’s slumber we are torn skin of the faint young sun, black fires burning on the forgotten hills, children of the opalescent haze and moondust touching the mortality with madness; ruling over abandoned circles and shadowed mazes we are the last kiss from the goddess, blinding the nature with our brilliance, coating its heart with a stellar honey

I am a poet, dark fantasy writer and passionate about dark themes, night, folklore and things painted crimson.

I write a dark fantasy book called "A Taste of Mortality" about cruel Fae. The novel is a mix of dark romance, fantasy and horror.

I am a fan of black, doom and power metal, as welland nordic and slavic folk. I love Myrkur, Darkher and Chelsea Wolf. My favorite bands are Cradle of Filth and My Dying Bride.

I don't participate in fandoms, but I do love dark and grim books. I write reviews on polish book portal. I really read a lot.

Books

A Song of Blood and Moss

Poetry woven from the darkness that lurks in the woods, intertwining with the branches and hiding between the leaves. The touch of an unquenchable thirst that fills immortal veins. Pain that glows with the reflected light of hunger. In this volume, I come to terms with my fears, my past... and my demons that still silently try to scratch the floor under my bed...

A Taste of Mortality - upcoming

Fae are enchanting. Beautiful. And deadly. Cruel like winter morn. And they love a taste of your mortality.
Tiyan Markon didn’t know how his life would turn, how much darkness would slip into it, when he became pursued by the dark fae ruler. Tiyan finds himself in the palace of the fairy, a gruesome pit filled with dark urges and twisted beauty, and isn’t even aware, that the fair folk have plans for him.

Poetry

“In garden red,
you bloom beneath storm-heavy skies, glistening with rain.
your petals torn open - bleeding crimson snow,
beneath a canopy of withered leaves
where life yields to decay.

In garden red,
the gods' indifference blossoms as flowers strung from bone.
their masks are black as starless night,
eyes hidden, blind to the world;
a cursed image of cruel stillness.

In garden red,
tales of the end weave through pallid phalanges,
gleaming beneath a dead sun,
its light a reflection from the dried-out reality.”

“my tongue delves in your dusk
the taste of fallen stars in my mouth
they spread with flames inside my spine
to burst before my eyelids
blinding me with white fulfillment
I sink into your moonlight
gossamer mist latches to my limbs
taking me deeper into the night
leaving daylight behind
hushing the sun with eternal twilight
v you are my flame on the way home
on the path of roots and branches
which I grow to reach you”

Book Snippets

Tiyan’s tired feet left footprints in the thick snow – they were impressing in the white and soon, disappearing, swallowed by the falling petals. The silent landscape seemed to laugh at his efforts, but the boy knew he couldn’t return home without a kill. Hunger was creeping into his house – and not just his. The whole Vennklan valley was frozen in time – held in cruel talons of eternal winter. It sapped their strength and drove them to despair. This winter felt harsher, as if it wanted to see how long they could live in these conditions without breaking in half.

His presence began to retreat from her thoughts, slowly, like trickling sap. He knew what it did to minds – how his enchantment lingered like heat after the flaming outburst. His power left a silence behind, almost hurting her with his absence.
Then he looked at her, a glance with the gravity of a star. Sparks danced in the depth of his eyes – glimmers swallowed by black void. That smile, which was beautiful, distant, dangerous – the smile she learned to…
… feel.

Lorian Ain'Dal

About the Author

Books

Poetry

Book Snippets

Characters from A Taste of Mortality

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Lorian Ain'Dal

A Taste of Mortality