writing – Author Cameron Kielb

What’s your Ghost Blade?

In The Order of Assassins, I created a weapon unlike any other—a dagger capable of inflicting death without leaving a single visible mark.

It’s silent. Unseen. But devastating.

That idea didn’t come from nowhere.

So much of what we fight today is invisible.

The battle to be admired.

The war for significance.

The unseen pressure to achieve, impress, or belong.

And behind it? The heavy shadow of anxiety, depression, loss, shame, and spiritual fatigue.

That’s what Ghost Blade represents—

The emotional and spiritual injuries that go deep, but don’t always leave scars you can see.

Sometimes these wounds come from others.

Sometimes from life itself.

Sometimes we carry them without even knowing where they started.

But here’s the beautiful paradox:

These invisible battles often shape us the most.

In a world obsessed with constant improvement, maybe it’s our pain—not our perfection—that holds the key to real growth.

So don’t be surprised by the presence of Ghost Blade in The Order of Assassins.

It’s more than a weapon.

It’s a symbol.

A reminder that the things that try to break us may actually be shaping us for something far greater.

Author Cameron Kielb

The Restless Shore

Arthur sat in the warm sand, finally—finally!—a moment to rest. Saving the world wasn’t exactly a part-time job, and the thought of a peaceful beach day had been the one thing keeping him sane.

Above him, seagulls laughed as they dove toward the shimmering lake. The water melted seamlessly into the horizon, sky, and sea indistinguishable in the haze of sun.

“Come play with us!” Jordan called from the dunes behind him. She waved a hand, her golden hair catching the breeze. Beside her was Tomascus—short, stout, and wide-eyed at his first glimpse of a beach. The two had joined up with Mox, Brand, and Nikki, a trio of cheerful travelers who’d taken to racing up the tallest sand dunes and launching a beach ball from the top like it was a sacred rite.

“In a moment!” Arthur called back, though he didn’t mean it. He had no plans to get up. Ever. His eyes were fixed on a magnificent rock jutting from the water—the kind you’d expect a mermaid to lounge on in old legends.

Then, as if some cosmic force heard him say “peace,” the sky darkened. Clouds rolled in like cavalry on a charge.

Arthur’s stomach turned.

The darkness reminded him too much of her. Gretta. And the shade souls.

A scream rang out behind him. Arthur leapt to his feet, instincts flaring—only to find Tomascus dramatically flopping on a dune as he fetched the beach ball from a strange rocky outcropping.

The scream turned into laughter. The others howled at Tomascus’s flair for the dramatic. Still, Arthur’s senses buzzed.

Then, a piercing screech.

He turned toward the lake just in time to see a massive dragon emerge from the clouds, lightning cascading around its wings.

“Guys!” Arthur shouted. “Jordan—get your new friends to safety!”

Jordan responded, but Arthur was already airborne, summoning his sword Dragonslayer. Wind ripped past him, invigorating and electric.

A cloaked figure stood atop the dragon, staff raised and glowing.

“Long live Gretta!” the figure shouted. “True master of this world. Creatures, awake! Arise and conquer!”

Beneath the waves, the water began to swirl. A kraken-like monster burst through the surface, all fangs and tentacles.

Arthur grimaced. “One day off. Just one.”

“Yours is the dragon, I assume?” Jordan called, appearing at his side.

“Yours is the sea monster, then?”

She cracked her knuckles. “Gladly.”

As Arthur flew toward the dragon, he felt its crimson eyes lock with his. Something inside him wavered—some strange pull to let go. But the shriek of the dark mage broke the spell.

“For the light!” Arthur roared, charging with his blade. The mage parried with the staff, and the collision sent fireworks into the sky.

Below, chaos erupted.

The sand dune shifted, revealing its true form: a sand beast. Tomascus flailed, trying to escape what turned out to be the creature’s gaping mouth.

“Tomascus!” Arthur shouted, preparing to dive—

—but the mage fired a blast of electricity.

Arthur intercepted it with his blade—just in time to see balls of light rain from the beach. Mox stood tall, hands glowing. Energy surged from him and blasted the sand creature into retreat.

“I am alright!” Tomascus called out from the ground, limbs flailing but intact.

With a spin, Arthur broke into the sky again, this time coming at the mage from behind.

“Wait—” the mage cried.

But Arthur’s blade struck clean, and the figure vanished in a burst of energy.

Arthur landed on the dragon’s back, breathing hard. Slowly, the beast’s eyes faded from red to a misty white.

Thank you for freeing me, the dragon said in his mind.

Arthur patted its neck. “You’re welcome.”

Below, Jordan battled the sea beast, slicing off tentacle after tentacle. But one snuck through and slammed her into the water.

Arthur dove and plunged into the scalding water. Pain lanced through his skin, but he grabbed Jordan and burst through the surface.

The kraken lunged for them—but the dragon intercepted, smashing into the monster like a falling star.

They clashed midair, locked in fury.

The dragon bit the monster’s neck—a fatal blow—but the tentacles clung on, and the pair crashed into the depths together.

The rock… the dragon whispered as it sank. They’re after the rock.

Arthur turned toward the jutting stone he’d been admiring earlier. Of course.

He carried Jordan back to shore, setting her down gently.

“Allow me,” Mox said, kneeling beside her. His glowing hands pulsed with healing light.

Arthur winced as the heat damage on his skin began to repair itself—some of it, oddly, already healing.

“You’re more than you seem,” Arthur said.

Mox smiled. “You too.”

Arthur nodded. “We’ll talk. But first—”

He flew toward the rock.

Waves crashed against its base. Etched across the top was the faint symbol of a tree surrounded by 18 deer. Arthur placed his hand over it.

Warmth surged through him.

The rock cracked open like an egg.

Inside lay a single, glowing seed.

Ready, Set, Fall…

The days of summer have staled. The ‘best by’ date has come and gone in a whirlwind of frenzied activity reminiscent of the fifth of July. The fireworks are over and now all is silent.

In short, bring on fall. Cool weather. Bonfires. Pumpkin (yes, maybe even spice— I know, the blasphemy!). It’s actually my favorite season. The notion of sipping a warm cup of coffee, bundled in a warm hoodie, brings a smile to my face. Also, the return of my warm slippers. The glorious satisfaction of banging the long forgotten slippers for that first time of the year to create a plume of dust and forgotten times. Hopefully my dogs didn’t chew this pair up…

Truthfully, writing has been slow going this summer. I’ve been working on an epic for the better part of the last year and indeed have had high hopes to be complete by now. Nonetheless, we must allow ourselves to be human and cannot expect perfection at all times. Accepting this notion has and will be a constant struggle for me.

That being said, I am nearly 150,000 words into this story– ‘The Order of Assassins’ and am enjoying rounding off the climax and conclusion of this story. This by no means is a suggestion that the story is almost done. Any writer knows that the editing process can be just as encompassing as the writing. Still, I’m super excited for this story and can’t wait to get it into your hands.

I’ve approached this story much differently than when I wrote The Kingdom (series). There were so many things I learned in making that series and it will always hold a special place in my heart as my first completed work. If you haven’t read it– give it read!

I look forward to continuing to improve my craft and just thank anyone willing to give my works a read.

There are many new and exciting things that have come into my life but with the changing of the seasons, I’m rededicating myself to fall back into writing and complete this book!

Stay tuned for more information!

Also, I’m calling anyone who is interested in becoming a ‘beta’ reader. This select group of readers will get access to my new book early and provide helpful feedback. If interested, reach out to me for more details.

Author Cameron Kielb

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Smoke and Mirrors

The yelling struck Grant’s ears like nails on a chalkboard. Every freakin’ night! Did they ever get along? His dad, John, sounded even more hoarse than normal. Soon he would light up another cigarette and work on killing a new branch of his lungs. He had COPD, emphysema, and a malignant case of being a pain in the ass.

Stacy did little to help. Sure, she had always been nice enough to Grant, but as his stepmother she never failed to need a thank you. Like her place wasn’t worth anything without his words of affirmation. She preyed on the needs of others and loved to insert her necessity. It was how she maintained her relationships.

Most teenagers probably wouldn’t have been able to pick this up but Grant had a passion for psychology. He had taken General Psychology last year in his senior year of high school and instantly fell in love. The answers to all of life’s turmoil lay in the understanding of people and their behaviors. It was incredible. Overnight he found himself taking pity on the bullies he had grown up with. Those that he had always found annoying or mean suddenly seemed understandable.

They were hurt and simply acted out of it.

The sound of glass shattering from the kitchen pulled at Grant’s attention. He closed his eyes, hummed a soft tune in his head, and resumed reading his book. He wouldn’t be one of those people that let their behaviors spiral out of control. No, he recognized exactly how messed up his parents were and could beat it… had to.

His phone chirped and Grant inspected the message his girlfriend, Tia, had left. They had been dating on and off again for the last couple years.

‘We hanging out tonight?’

Grant listened to the commotion outside and shook his head. Not tonight, just in case. In case what?

He replied: ‘Not tonight, babe. Got some reading to do.’

Grant tried not to think of the disappointment he would cause Tia. Part of him wondered if he should just break it off with her again. She was a beautiful and smart girl full of potential and deserved much better than him. Perhaps in the arms of some older, successful, man who could provide her a stable life. One without the burdens and stresses of a totally messed up family. Free of having to worry if today would be the day that John would send Stacy to ER. Or perhaps one day Stacy would snap like a twig and lose it on John.

Such dysfunction… how had those two ever believed they should be together.

Grant thumbed through his book– denial, delusions, wishful thinking? Maybe no thinking at all.

The phone chirped again and read: You never want to go out anymore…

Grant read the message and tossed it aside. He hated texting. What a sorry excuse for communication. If over half of communication was non verbal, how were people supposed to pick up on the non verbal– or written– aspect? It led to confusion, misinterpretation, and purposeful passive aggression!

Ugh!

Grant nosed his way back into a chapter and lost himself to the concepts. Minutes melted into hours as things simply began to make sense again. A knock on the door interrupted his concentration and he felt his annoyance blossom.

John walked into the room, puffing on what was left of his cigarette. Placing his hands on his hips, he let the cigarette dangle from his mouth a moment before finally fetching it with his fingers. The way he held and revered that rolled up piece of paper spoke volumes to his fondness in them. Addiction. Sublimation.

“Sorry about that, pal. We got a little out of hand.” John said this as if it were a simple passing thought. “Money’s tight… makes for hard choices, ya know?” John rubbed his hands on his dingy and overstretched shirt.

Grant nodded. “Yeah okay,” was all he could manage.

“I knew you would get it. You’re a smart man, Grant. Didn’t get that from me… Anyway, we’re good. You don’t need to hide in here on our account. Go out with your friends or something.”

“I’m okay,” Grant shrugged. He was always ‘okay.’ Any other state of being simply wasn’t okay with John. It would be met with either hostility or mocking.

“You should really go out more,” John said scornfully. “Staying cooped in here doesn’t do anything for you.”

“I’m studying–“

“–To be a psychologist… right, right.” John interrupted. “That’s phooey. What, you’re going to be doctor? Wake up! We don’t have that sort of dough to get you through that sort of schooling. Find a trade, my boy. I’ve got a buddy who makes good money welding,” John finished, rubbing his thumb on his forefinger.

Grant clenched his jaw. It wasn’t that he had a problem with the trades. In fact, he read an interesting article about how they made up the backbone of their economy and were projected to have a severe shortage in the next ten years. It would be a very logical choice free of worry from massive student debt.

But he wasn’t passionate about it! There was no understanding in it. He could get lost in the work, sure, but it didn’t fix anything. At least not in his shattered soul.

“Sure, dad. That’s not a bad idea either. Maybe even electrical work. I’ll look into it. But I don’t want to go out tonight. Maybe tomorrow.”

Though Grant knew it still irritated John, at least his willingness to consider the trades seemed to offset this.

“That-a-boy,” John said, thunking him on his shoulders. “You’ll thank me later. Alright, I gotta go out for a bit then. Errr, broke the hallway mirror out there. Watch out for Stacy, will ya? She’s in a mood today.” John gave him a quick wink and disappeared from sight.

Grant sighed. It was nearing ten thirty and he was feeling tired. Regretfully, he closed his book and changed into his pajamas thinking about his plan. He had been applying for as many scholarships as he could and would find a way to pay his way through school with or without his parent’s help.

It would be better that way anyway. He didn’t need Stacy getting her claws into this and John would just try to shut it down. A quick trip to the bathroom to relieve himself and brush his teeth and then he returned to his room. Before climbing into bed he opened his computer again and looked up a few electrician programs he would ‘consider.’

Climbing into bed he held steady to his smoke and mirrors plan.

The End.

Author Cameron Kielb

Thanks for reading!

This story was inspired by the realization that everyone faces some sort of challenge and are living unique lives. — Sonder.

What are your obstacles in your life? Are you letting your challenges define your action? Are you simply trying to avoid obstacles altogether?

Challenges are vital for growth. Don’t avoid them– conquer them!

You can do it.

~Author Cameron Kielb

The Wandering Elf 🧝

Meet Bernupicus, the mischievous little elf searching for a purpose

Bernupicus walked the crowded streets of Chicago, no one the wiser of his true identity. It had been years since his time spent up north and truthfully it felt like a whole different life. He has not embraced the proper elf culture though and his powers had proved too weak to keep up with the day-to-day job requirements needed.

They had found a good assignment helping out with the reign deer but somehow that life just never satisfied him. He had always felt like he was destined to do more.

So one day he did the unthinkable. Bernupicus packed a bag and fled in the cover of night from the only home destined for an elf. Through the frosty cold lands, he walked an unwavering pace— undeterred by neither the brisk air nor the lonesome company.

Both were staples in his life anyway.

During his travels, he thought long and hard about what his new life would look like among normal people. Sure he was short, but he would no longer be ridiculed for his weak powers or ineptitude. He would get a fresh start.

So here in Chicago, Bernupicus walked the streets cloaked not in bright colors but instead a dark jacket and fluffy hat that allowed him to blend in on the streets. Not that the disguise was needed— for most passerby’s had eyes for only a few feet of pavement in front of them or more often the screen held within their hands.

As the night wore on he shifted his focus from exploring the city streets to finding a cozy lodging to rest his eyes. He didn’t need much- just something out of the way. The previous few nights had been spent behind dumpsters and he had been surprised to find he wasn’t alone. Interestingly enough, it was these folks that paid him the most attention. A quick nod or soft smile as if to say— ‘I see you man, we’re in this together.’

A beautiful young woman exited a jewelry shop ahead, dressed in expensive furs. She spoke on the phone in a childish way that suggested she was talking to a young kid. The lady slipped through a side alley and seemingly out of Bernupicus‘ life but something felt off. A feeling of danger flooded his mind and he knew that the lady was in trouble.

Bernupicus hastened to follow and slipped into the side alley, but not before two other individuals pursued closely behind the oblivious lady that eagerly anticipated seeing her child.

A third person, huge and menacing stepped out in front of Bernupicus and let out a deep growl of a warning. “This way’s closed, pal.” The man cracked his knuckles loudly and looked seconds away from taking a swing at him for no reason.

Behind the man, the lady had finally realized the danger she was in and let out a scream that was quickly stifled by the two in pursuit as they grabbed her and covered her mouth.

What barbarians! Bernupicus felt rage swell up within him and he attempted to pass the large clown that tried to block his path.

“Oh, you want some too, eh!” The man’s eyes lit up with a hungry intensity and he practically drooled as he wound up to hit Bernupicus.

Bernupicus, however, extended his hand ever so slightly, and upon contact with his finger to the large man’s belly, the man flew back and landed in a huddled mess. He had never felt such power flowing through him before and he instinctively snapped his fingers, now appearing beside the two attacking men.

He blinked and gathered his bearings. This had been the first time he had successfully managed to transport like that. It certainly would’ve made traveling from the north much easier. Actually, he probably would’ve had a much better job— maybe even one of ole’ Nick’s trusted runners.

Ifs and buts though. That’s not the way it happened and as such, Bernupicus found himself here now to help.

The lady had been dropped to the ground now, whimpering but doing as told to remain silent.

“Not today guys,” Bernupicus whispered. Ole Nick would not approve. With swift, decisive action, he snapped again causing the two attackers’ hats to push down over their eyes. Both let out a surprised gasp and flailed their arms up to shield from an attacker. Bernupicus however was too quick for their slow punches and within seconds, had touched both of them— sending them into a nearby wall. Out cold, Bernupicus tied their shoelaces, belt, and jacket sleeves together and let out a lofty chuckle.

The lady lying on the ground had finally managed to stop crying and looked over to see the cause of the pause.

Her eyes rested on Bernupicus for just a moment before he snapped and made himself invisible. She shook her head as if confused, and then slowly rose to her feet.

“Whoever’s out there,” she started. “You are my hero.” Then she scrambled out of the alley, pausing just once to look back at the exact spot that Bernupicus stood.

Bernupicus stood straight, proud as he’d ever allowed. Finally, he had a purpose.

The End.

Happy Holidays my friends! I hope you’ve all found or are actively pursuing your purpose. Be like Bernupicus and challenge yourself. Just remember to have some fun.

Author Cameron Kielb