Arcane Sketch Novels & Stories

It was almost as if he truly was the genius he claimed to be. Struggling to come up with my next drawing, my eyes wandered up towards the sky. There, soaring high above us was a sleek and powerful jet plane. Without hesitation, I began to sketch the impressive aircraft, my fingers deftly moving across the screen of Aaron's phone as I brought the image to life. Finally, with a sense of satisfaction, I presented my latest creation to Aaron. "Lycan Aaron, can you guess what this is?" Aaron studied the drawing intently. Then suddenly, a frown formed between his brows, and he said, “Are you crazy? Why are you drawing a man’s d*ck?”

Directly opposite had a five-meter wide by four-meter high passageway, and the illuminating magic stones at the top of the hall and the passageway emitted a light no less than that of the outside. Looking at the metal token in his hand again, it was only the size of a palm, the emblem engraved on the front Christine knew that it was representing a certain Arcane Artist, but who exactly was unclear, the back was engraved with a number and instructions on how to use it in Nethersolean magical script. At this point, Christian knew why the other party still triggered the effect of the token even after his own “Trance” had taken effect, because all he had to do was to press the small emblem on th

"You used to do that all the time. I remember how you used to sketch people when you missed them." She didn’t look up. "I never stopped doing it. I just stopped showing it to anyone." He stepped closer, his eyes on the page. "That’s him, isn’t it?" She nodded softly. The sketch was precise but warm. Aaric's crooked grin, his thick dark lashes, the way his left ear turned slightly outward. Every feature Isla had memorized from the single photograph. Lucian crouched beside her. His fingers brushed hers and she let them stay.

“The others?” “Yeah.” She flipped a page and handed it to me. Sketches from scouts—shadows that didn’t belong to anything, skeletal figures wearing cracked armor, things that moved like smoke given shape. “Whatever got stirred up when you took that flame? It’s waking up the things that should’ve stayed buried.” The air around me shimmered faintly as my pulse spiked. The fire reacted before I could stop it, gold veins flashing briefly across my arms. Mara didn’t flinch.

Thank you for the wonderful patience you gave to the novel! I appreciate the patience readers has 💚 Finally, arc 2 is done! And to be honest, the first outline in this arc 2 is totally different from the outcome! I guess the book writes itself! Well, thanks again for the wonderful journey with me in this arc! I hope you enjoyed it! 💚 Arc 3 coming up! ARC 3 TITLE: Reaper's Scythe Is A Scissor?! TEASER:

ANNIE WALK ROAR WEAPON SKELETON DAGGER WOODEN SHIELD CHRISTIAN NARAZO SKELETAL BONE FRAME LVL 8 MANA 220 STR 6 AGI 4 DEX 5 MEN 8 CHA 3 LUCK 1 SP 0 SKILL SUMMON SKELELETON SUMMON SKELETON ARCHER WEAPON SKELETON DAGGER WOODEN SHIELD KRISTINE DENNISE GLASS BONE FRAME LVL 8 MANA 220 STR 4 AGI 7 DEX 4 MEN 10 CHA 5 LUCK 1 SP 0 SKILL PREDICTION TRACK WEAPON SKELETON DAGGER WOODEN SHIELD ART VINCENT BALAYO ACID BONE FRAME LVL 7 MANA 180 STR 11 AGI 5 DEX 5 MEN 3 CHA 3 LUCK 1 SP 0 SKILL CHANGE TO ACID ACID TOUCH WEAPON SKELETON DAGGER WOODEN SHIELD RAYMART SONGCUYA POLLUTION BONE FRAME

The creature, less menacing in the grams staring right at us. “I don't know what it is Brad, but I keep drawing it__today it felt real in my dream, terrible even. It…” Brad pulled me close, his eyes fixed on the painting. “It's a Monogroth.” ****** AUTHOR'S POV Ariana flinched as Jasmine rubbed her neck with the ointment. “I'm sorry my Luna, I had to add some cinnamon to make the effect last longer.” “It's okay, but you need to stop calling Luna, we can't risk anyone knowing the truth.” Ariana said.

Our fingers intertwined, a silent promise of support and love. "We're surrounded by beauty, both in nature and the beauty in front of whom everything turns dull," I whispered, my eyes locked on Arcane's. She got all shy and her cheeks were a shade of crimson. "Damn it! You will be the death of me." I whispered. Arcane was perhaps in a mood of teasing me tonight, her hand went straight to my crotch and I inhaled sharply, "We are in front of our parents. So, behavre." She said sternly.

There’s a blood-stained altar in the middle of the room, and currently it holds about a dozen scrolls, each of them several feet long, all of them filled with scribblings and drawings. Like me when I came here the first time, Mara is automatically drawn to the altar. She unrolls one of the scrolls, and with a small frown between her eyes looks at it. “Can you read it?” I ask. “No, but these drawings are a little… unsettling.” They are, and they look like cave paintings. They have no depth and the perception is all wrong. “It’s not as bad as you think,” I say. “It’s just the Lycans’ creation story.”

Mace said, his tone sharp as he motioned for them to follow him through a narrow, winding passageway that seemed to stretch into the very earth itself. “Aran!” Mace called out once they reached the secret chamber. The air was thick with a kind of holiness that made every breath feel heavier. They found Aran sitting on the ground, surrounded by piles of ancient scrolls, feverishly flipping through them. “Aran, what are you doing?” Grace rushed to his side. He didn’t look up as he spoke, his breathing uneven, his eyes wild. “Looking for a scroll written in red ink.” “What’s in that scroll?” Grace asked.