An Untold Story
A dystopian novel about faith, legacy, and multiplying hope. ☀️
In a post-collapse world where faith is outlawed and reproduction is government-sanctioned, Sela Ashira discovers fragments of words the government thought were destroyed. And they awaken something the regime tried to erase. Hope.
Genre
Dystopian Fiction
Status
Currently Writing
Setting
Post-collapse society
The World After
The city hums, not with noise, but with calm. It moves like breath. Measured. Clean. Beautiful. Each morning unfolds like a quiet symphony. Delicate. Structured. Familiar. A choreography that belongs to no one, but holds us all.
All of the greenery. Bright. Rooted. Still. The wind is soft, sweeping through the streets in quiet gusts that know their bounds. It doesn't whip or howl. It glides. It is beautiful.
But in the forgotten places... overgrown greenhouses, abandoned districts where vines reclaim broken glass - fragments of truth still hide, waiting for someone brave enough to listen when the silence of the world cracks open.
Meet Sela 👋
Sela Ashira — "Rock, I will sing."
Married to Lior ("light"). Two years partnered. Assigned after a six-month courtship.
They have finally reached their two-year bond milestone, which means they can now apply to conceive a child.
The ache to become a mother has been growing inside her since the beginning of their partnership.
What will she do when the longing to create life is forbidden?
"I step back in line. To pause is to draw attention. To question is to signal unrest. And yet....
Why does it all feel like it's hiding something?"
A Glimpse Inside 📖
From Sela's work as Image Curator
I have a role: Image Curator, Level 2. Trusted. Recognized. Not elite, but not common. I see what others don't. The raw feeds. The background moments. The cracks. And I smooth them. I erase inconsistencies. Crop out the odd. Adjust colors that stir too much.
Make it clean. Palatable.
But lately... I feel the edges. Smudges behind the polish. Shadows where there shouldn't be any. Real things. Unplanned. Untouched. Too alive to bother.
Leave them, something whispers. Let them stay.
But I don't. I push the thought down. I'm functioning properly. Or that's what I keep telling myself.
I edit them anyway.
This excerpt is from current draft chapters and may evolve during the writing process.
The Discovery 🌿
In a forgotten greenhouse at the edge of the abandoned outer district, where vines have overtaken broken glass and the air smells like earth and memory, Sela finds something that shouldn't exist.
Tucked in a clay jar under the roots of a fig tree. A fragment of parchment, brittle and faded, but the words shine: "Be fruitful and multiply."
As she touches it, something floods her spirit. Not a voice, but a presence. Stillness. Radiance. Truth. Tears. Breath. Awe. The silence of the world aches with unspoken possibilities.
What This Story Explores
Spiritual Awakening
What happens when the soul remembers what the mind was forced to forget?
Truth vs. Control
How do we recognize truth when everything we've been taught is revision?
Faith in Hiding
Can the sacred survive when it's been systematically erased?
Underground Resistance
Sometimes the most dangerous rebellion begins with remembering.
Why I'm Writing This Story
Some stories change you. I want to write a story that lets truth breathe through every page.
I won't mention God by name, but I'll weave in His truth. I want readers to feel something stirring in their souls without being shouted at. To encounter the sacred through story, the way truth was always meant to be shared.
Like Sela editing images, we all have moments where we choose to smooth over uncomfortable truths or let them stay. Where we feel called to more but find ourselves stuck beneath the weight of pressure around us. This story is for those souls: the ones who sense there's something more, something real, waiting to be remembered.
Want to follow the journey? ✨
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