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The Last
Waking up with a start, Z just lay there, staring blankly at the bluish horizon. For a moment there, she didn’t know where she was. She allowed the cold breeze to ruffle her hair, feeling its coldness seeped through her skin, deeper to her flesh. It was a matter of how badly her body throbbed that it took her quite a while to notice that something was sucking the numbness on her chest.
Z sighed, looking down at what seemed to be a circular rip on her suit of armor. It was small like a coin, though the tube-like blackness almost kissing it was as big as her clenched fist. If it wasn’t for the sensation that thousands of pins were piercing her body, she would have appreciated the ticklish way to which the tube sucked, spewing the dirt in the corner and slowly sewing the wound as it went.
The source of the tube came from an almost shapeless shadow sprawled next to her. Its edges curved in every direction, spikes rising and falling from it, traveling from one p
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The narrative of Z’s past, present, and future were nothing more than proof that Sylvania’s existence qualified as a catalyst for chaos. In the past, her willingness to show her father that she deserved to be heir to Sylvania’s legacy led her to create a forbidden artifact, which transported Zeniah in the future. It had been branded as murder and she’d been condemned, tortured, and was almost killed in front of the apprehensive Forbinians. Her father proved that he could cut off his only heir’s head if it means upholding the law—his law.In her present, she tried to make things right by being a Phantom that sneaked through the criminal’s midst, put an end to their lives, and bring the peace back where it belonged. She thought she was doing what’s right until her father walked in the path of evil and declared war on the Supreme Council. She was then burdened by the responsibility of killing her father, for the Council believed sh
Shadows of the Lost Author's Note
It's such a nostalgic thing to have finished this epic of a novell, and I thank all of you for the support, especially to my editor, Artis Yusi, who give it her all to make sure I feel welcome here. I'm sure we all had an exhausting but fun journey, so do tell me what you think about the first installation of the Shadow Series. Thank you everyone! We'll see each other again in the second installation where we'll dive deeper in the secret of Pasithea. I'm going to warn you beforehand to wear your helmet, for this is going to be another hell of a bumpy ride. Until then, let's all savor this first installation; reread it, and you might find some clues as to whaat's going to unfold in the second book.
Shadows of the Lost Prologue
Note:I’m not really into prologue, so I’m not sure if you can consider this one, but this did happen right before the timeline of the main story, so you can skip this one. You’ll miss nothing, swear. This is just so you’ll know Blame’s point of view. *** I’d never thought I’d live to see death unfold right before my eyes. I was young. I didn’t expect to look the reaper in the eyes yet. I was sure I’d live to see myself morphed into a legend I wished to become, sure that I’d be passing my greatness to my future seeds, to the next generation that would further my goals. But that’s not how life worked. It shattered my dreams and made me realize that everything I’m fighting for was pointless because I was meant to die.
Shadows of the Lost Apart
Arc 1Identity Confusion To which we’ve been fooled of who we are, lay the terrifying monster ready to tear us apart. But, if we look closely we’ll see that what’s confusing us is the clone we made out of despair, the shadow that concealed what must have been the truth we’re seeking for. So, take heed! Our perception will be twisted in Z’s palm. --- “Can’t you see the beauty of Pasithea?” said George Williams, his eyes bulging. “Seriously, are you blind or something?” The beach was crowded on the first morning of May that the wind felt a lot warmer than it should. George and Z were sitting on the shore, their feet soaked in the salty water, a pair of coconut juice beside them.
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The Main Centre had a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight, its corners punctuated by shops of different size and stock. There were about hundreds of ancient-looking torches lining up to the ends of the street, a glass casing each of its pea-size flame. Somehow, the sight of the shop, the things outside them, the Wielders bobbing in and out of any establishment, a transparent bag filled with various equipment hanging on their wrist, distracted Z from any thoughts she just had earlier. A plump woman outside an Apothecary was swinging a silver necklace as she passed, saying, “Necklace, oh, enchanted necklace! Charming as it looks, powerful to use.” Z bit her lips to hide her snigger. “Hey, Z! I’ll withdraw first,” sai
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