9 Tailed Cloak Novels & Stories

Aurora and Devrim hurried through the darkness of the tunnel, their only light the glow stone that was part of the walls. The Empress wrapped the Guardian's cloak around her tightly as she followed Devrim through the tunnel. She had been wary of using it because Zan was so much taller than her, but Aurora found as it wrapped around her shoulders that it adjusted to her height and build. The pair had placed many items inside the recesses of the cloak before leaving the palace, including money and weapons for protection. The weight of the cloak never changed. As she made her way underground, Aurora wondered what else she would discover about this magical garment. The novelty of adventure pushe

Ryan oversaw everything personally. Officials moved through the palace halls with quiet efficiency, scrolls sealed, wards checked, travel formations finalized. Guards selected were not the loudest or the strongest, but the most observant. The ones who noticed patterns. The ones who listened more than they spoke. I watched it all from a distance at first, standing near the balcony doors as the morning light spilled across the stone floors. This time, I was not being escorted. I was being prepared. A tailor adjusted the final fold of my traveling cloak, fingers respectful, eyes lowered. The fabric was deep midnight blue, threaded subtly with silver runes of protection and authority. Not ceremo

My hair flowed down past my shoulders in luxurious brown ringlets that gave me a boost of confidence. Bram had a deep forest green shirt paired with his black cloak and a twinned gold and silver brooch. I admired the intricate embroidery of wolves and forestry as we walked, “why do you have such a different cloak to everyone else, is it a tradition?” I asked in a friendly tone.

She immediately sent someone to bring the cloaks. When they were laid out, we all leaned in. Each cloak carried a different design. But as I looked closer, something didn’t add up. “There are thirteen designs,” I said slowly, trying to piece it together. “Each cloak carries one… and in Medina’s books, every design appears on its own.” I hesitated, my gaze drifting back to the artifact. “But they don’t feel like separate things,” I added. “It’s more like… they were split.” “Split?” Eira echoed.

"This is for you." She draped it over my shoulders. The material was thick and warm, perfect for traveling. But there was something else. A faint shimmer in the weave. Magic. "What is this?" I ran my fingers over the fabric. "A concealment cloak. Ancient craft. Very rare." She fastened the clasp at my throat. "It won't make you invisible, but it will mask your scent. Blur your presence. Make you harder to track or detect." I stared at her. "This is... this is too valuable. I can't—"

he bade, grinning: "Drape her head with this. Let's see her see through thick wool!" At the young man's offer, Theophobus set the cloak over the nymph, hiding not only her head, but most of her body, down to her waist. He settled the folds until the cloak-owner grunted satisfaction, and stepped back.. "Now she is ready," he exclaimed. "Make your tests!" "What am I wearing?" asked the first youth. "A red tunic with gold trim, and gold cuffs on your wrists," answered the blind girl beneath the cloak. "What do I hold in hand?" asked the cloak's owner, who had drawn a glinting poignard from his belt.

"And you look like a lapdog." Before she could scream, I turned my back on her. I walked straight into the secondary dressing area where the grand finale garment hung. The fabric was different from Eliora's. This was the Soul of the Moonwolf. It was made of deep indigo silk that looked like midnight velvet. It did not reflect light. It absorbed it. Over three thousand moonlight-infused crystals were hand-stitched into the lining, glinting like a violent galaxy. I threw the ceremonial cloak over my shoulders. The weight of it settled heavily against my collarbones.

She felt small and out of place, her heart pounding in her chest. Soon, El-Kharis appeared, stepping into the clearing with an air of authority. His hair was neatly pulled back, revealing his sharp, angular features. He wore a fine dark cloak that flowed behind him like liquid shadows, the fabric rich and textured, glimmering with an ethereal sheen as it caught the light. The cloak was embroidered with intricate silver patterns that swirled and curled like wisps of smoke, hinting at ancient magic woven into its very fibers. It draped elegantly over his shoulders, the high collar framing his face and enhancing the regal presence he commanded.

7 years later – aged 19 “Wow, this is gorgeous. How have I never seen you wear this?” Toya tugs out the long, darkest green, almost black velvet cloak from my box on the bed and spreads it over her lap to admire the intricate, delicate embroidery around the oversized hood and the long trim. It’s one of my prized possessions.

for next Sunday's reading. After deciding on his reading schedule, Aelfric made his way back to the Stitchery to fetch his new clothing. His trousers and tunics were plain and smart, but his robe was special. All healers wore burlap cloaks lined with animal skins, furs, or wool. His Burlap had been died Darkest blue, and inside the hood was lined with soft lambskin. The lining of the cloak itself was warm and light, offering protection from the wind and cold. Mr. Bastet told him it had been enchanted by a witch to keep one comfortable in any weather. Aelfric was amazed at being able to afford such a luxurious item, but Mr. Bastet assured him it would come in very handy for a healer, who may