Novels by Samster_x

~EiraThe moment I vanished from the crumbling temple, the sting of the stone floor and the bitter chill of its cursed air faded behind me. The next second, I stood beneath the heavy curve of an archway wrapped in honeysuckle and moss, the cold gone, replaced by the warmth of spring.Our home sat nestled in a hollow glen surrounded by trees so ancient their roots wove together beneath the ground like an unbroken net. Morning light filtered down in gold flecks through branches above, and the hum of bees drifted lazily through the air. Smoke curled from the stone chimney of our cottage, mixing with the scent of bread and lavender.I exhaled slowly, releasing tension I hadn’t realized I’d been carrying. The sanctuary still stood. Untouched. Safe.The cottage was built from forest stones and thick timbers, every inch shaped by our hands. Ivy climbed up the walls in lazy loops. A small, weathered bench sat beneath the front window, cushions sun-bleached and torn from little claws and use.

~Serik I woke to the sound of giggling. Which, under normal circumstances, wouldn’t have been alarming—except I couldn’t move. My back was pressed against damp stone. Something scratchy and tight was wrapped around my wrists and ankles. Rope. Thick, hand-braided, and tied in far too many knots. Children's knots. Obviously. I cracked one eye open and found myself staring at five small faces hovering above me, each wearing the same expression: intense suspicion, poorly concealed behind gleeful curiosity. “His eyes are open!” one of them squealed, scooting back. “Maybe he’s a monster,” said another—a boy with a mop of curly hair and a tunic too big for him. “Monsters always have eyes like that.” “I bet he’s a thief. Look at his boots. Only thieves wear nice boots.” “He doesn’t look like a thief,” a third chimed in. “He looks like a lost uncle. Or a tired goat.” “Can goats talk?” “I’ve never asked one.” I blinked slowly. “I can assure you, I’m not a goat.” They s

~Omniscient The stillness in the chamber was unnerving as Lyric prepared to launch a barrage of attacks on Halric and Nilo for even thinking of attacking her. They moved back, bracing for the impact. Lyric's lips parted to release the incantation—and then suddenly, her body froze. Her eyes widened. She couldn't move. Not a flick of a finger. Not even a blink. A tremor passed through her lips as she tried to speak, to scream, to summon her will again—but it was like the magic had turned against her. The glow in the circle dimmed. The wind that had once whipped around her fell still. Her feet lifted off the stone floor as if some unseen force plucked her from the ground like a doll. She hovered. Her eyes darted wildly. Then, without warning, she was slammed down. Hard. The crack of impact echoed off the temple walls like thunder. Dust flared. A faint hiss of residual magic curled up around her before dying completely. She lay still. Halric and Nilo, both caught in mid-movemen

~Serik The wind slammed into the old shrine like a living beast, shaking the rotting timbers and howling through the cracks in the stone walls. I held perfectly still, pressed low behind the altar, breath shallow, heartbeat hammering just beneath the skin. The boot scuffed across the flagstone. Then another. Whoever—or whatever—it was, they moved with a kind of caution I didn’t like. Controlled. Deliberate. Predators walked like that. I closed my fingers tighter around the edge of the spell carved into the strip of leather Nyssara had given me. One word, whispered, and she’d appear. But not immediately. Not without cost. And if I used it too soon, I might burn my only lifeline. Not yet. I peeked over the altar’s edge. A tall figure stood just inside the doorway. Robes, thick and dark, flared with each gust of wind, making him look like a shadow that had learned to walk upright. His face was hidden beneath a deep hood, but I could feel his gaze searching the space. He was

~Serik The cold bit through my robes the moment I stepped out of the Temple of Time. Not a breeze, but a living thing—a predator that gnawed bone-deep. The temple door shut behind me with the sound of finality. No locks. No visible seams. Just smooth white stone, carved into the mountainside like it had always been there, like it would outlast the stars. Snow drifted in silent spirals through the air, falling so slowly it felt suspended. "This path leads you to the old villages," Nyssara had said, standing at the edge of the portal room, her hands folded in the sleeves of her robe. "I don't know where Lira is because I'm still not that good with my powers yet but I believe the village is a good place to start." "Why do you think that? Shouldn't I be checking palaces because that's where royalty usually are?" I asked. "From what my powers have shown me over the years, greatness rarely comes from greatness. So chances are there that Lira is a nobody in this time." Nyssara sai

~Halric The air was thick. Not just with the scent of blood, but with something heavier. Old magic. Twisting, foul, and wet with death. Luna Lyric stood before us, framed by the shadows of that infernal altar. She didn’t blink. Didn’t flinch. Her hands were still stained with the last sacrifice. What the sacrifice was for, I had no idea. “Luna Lyric,” I said softly, not daring to step closer, “it’s us. Halric and Nilo. You know us. We've met in the castle when you were still in Obsidian. We're the mages of Obsidian.” She tilted her head. Not like someone confused. Like someone mocking the idea of confusion. “I don’t know that name,” she said coolly. But her fingers twitched. She knew. She recognized it. I don't know what happened here or how corrupted this dark magic had made her but I still had the feeling that Luna Lyric wasn’t gone. Not completely. If there was even the littlest chance of bringing her back and putting a stop to this madness, I was going to take it. Nilo too