A Thousand Suns Novels & Stories

The sun rose dimly over the Ashlands, casting long, broken shadows across the scorched ruins of Iskar. Though daylight touched the earth, the ash in the air made it seem as if the world still dreamed — a half-light, suspended in time. Aria stood atop one of the remaining towers, the ancient wind tugging at her cloak, her eyes closed as she breathed in the lingering heat of the land’s memory. Thalen — the Voice of Ash — stood behind her, silent, his form like a monument of flame frozen in thought.

Kael replied. “Helpful explanation.” He gave her a small smile. “They tell the story of the Twenty Moons.” Luna ran her fingers across one of the glowing carvings. The moment she touched it, a powerful wave of energy rushed through her. Her vision exploded with light. Suddenly she wasn’t standing in the stone circle anymore. She was somewhere else. A massive sky stretched above her. Twenty enormous moons filled the darkness, glowing in different colors—silver, blue, violet, gold.

Nevertheless, the astrologer was right. “A new sun has risen. A new day has begun. Narendra’s era is over now. I am the mighty emperor of Hesmia. You all should obey me and follow my rules. If anyone dares to disobey, behead them right away. Those who support me will be rewarded.” Remington uttered.

I am indeed a hopeless romantic. I turned around my swivel chair and faced the glass window, overlooking the whole city where I am currently living. It was already midnight and some stars aligned in the sky. I counted ten stars scattered within the reach of my eyes until I got bored and decided to go back to reading the new book I just bought from the bookstore.

When all was done, the ground where I had struck looked charmed. The watchers were already on The Dark Mage. Binding him and he was powerless to stop them. Selena and Theodore came to my side. It is done. I might have lost the family I knew but I have been gifted with another and I will protect them, as long as I can. About The Author Phiya is a pseudonym for two sisters from Nigeria. They write books, articles and they own a website. www.thejibbyjabber.com.

she whispered as Ernaline stared wide eyed at her. “You have no idea with what you’re dealing with” She began uttering a language Karen hadn’t heard before, she looked back at the creatures that watched her as a faint light glowed before her, suddenly everything turned bright white and then darkness. “What do you think, would they make it through together?” Keres asked “Well that would be left to destiny but i hope they do, for now they have nothing to worry about” she smiled.

" However, I wasn't okay. It was unsettling to feel this weird tug toward Thorne. It was more than just terror; there was a deeper meaning to it that I couldn't comprehend. He's dangerous, a small voice warned in the back of my head. I was called to the head table to clear away empty glasses as the feast ended. While working, my hands remained steady, but when I sensed Thorne's eyes once more, my heartbeat accelerated. His voice was low but clear as he leaned in to speak to one of his Betas. "Who is she?" "Alpha, the slave girl," the Beta shot back with contempt. "She goes by Melissa. Since she was a puppy, she has lived with us. Thorne's gaze grew strained. "What makes her feel... familiar?

Carla's POV With my heart beating heavily and shattering against the wall of my chest,my vision blurred behind the shimmer of sun that sank into the room through the window. I quit pacing as my attention was drawn to two raps that came from the door. “Come in." I called out settling into one of the sofas in the room. It had been twenty minutes since I had sent for the healer, the long minute had been filled with an emptiness that expanded deep in the inside of me till it threatened to eat me alive.

The dawn that broke over the Ravine was not the soft gold of a Northern spring. It was a harsh, terrifying white. High above the atmosphere, the Southern Council’s mirror-satellites were shifting, catching the unfiltered intensity of the sun and focusing it into a singular, lethal beam. The air already tasted of ozone, and the ancient snow on the peaks of the Frost-Pins was beginning to weep, turning into torrents of meltwater that roared down the cliffs.

In my sixth year of running an inn in Rimevale, I'm diagnosed with bone cancer. I leave the inn in the hands of my fiancé, Eric Jones, and head to Varenia with nothing but an old enamel mug. Once I'm there, I start a livestream called "My Last 100 Sunsets." Every day at 7:00 pm, I turn the camera toward the snowcapped mountains and make coffee just out of frame. On my 31st livestream, a comment suddenly catches my eye. "Wait. Does that mug at the edge of the frame have a V-shaped chip in it?" Six years ago, when a blizzard left us stranded in the mountains, I kept that same mug filled with hot spiced cider for Eric all night. The chat explodes. "That's Alice Graham from Veylune Inn!"