Arcane Steampunk Novels & Stories

Her life has no value, except the one I can give it by sacrificing her on the altar of my own redemption. Ariane emerges from the bathroom. She wears an ivory silk robe, her hair black as night dripping onto her shoulders in heavy, damp strands. Her face is a mask of terrible serenity, smooth as a frozen lake. She walks past me as if I were a ghost, a piece of furniture, smelling the acrid scent of her soap, a mix of jasmine and something colder, more mineral, like wet stone. She slips into the immense bed, turning her back, hugging the edge of the mattress.

I heard one say. The floating one stepped forward and knelt beside me. A soft cloak wrapped around my shoulders from nowhere, and he offered me a gentle smile, though his pitch black eyes held no warmth. “Easy now,” he said calmly, as if finding naked girls in impact craters was just another Tuesday. “You’ve been struck by lightning” “No shit,” I snapped, blinking fast. “Wh....who are you?” His head tilted. “We’re with the Arcane Order of Balance.” “The what now?”

From my calculations, not every account has been locked inside the game, but there are too many now. For the next hour, I paced around the room, unable to stay in one spot for long. Neither Luka nor Jake was able to access the server completely, as an outside force was blocking them. It was obvious Arcane Realm had been hacked, and their skills rivaled Luka’s and Jake’s combined effort.

Instead I moved closer, silent as the ghost I was trained to be and kept watching her, her thick black raven hair against her ebony smooth skin and the way her eyes were so divided on the dirty little vixen in her laptop screen. Aurora Whittaker is a twenty three year old princess with old money. And ever since her brother had eloped with the love of his life Elena, the weight of the crown has been left on her shoulders. If I didn’t believe in love myself, I’d have looked for her brother and offed him for being so selfish but it wasn’t my business since Aurora herself didn’t mind. She had long legs that I had imagined times without number wrapped around my waist as I pounded her against that

It takes a few moments before he comes to the passage that he needs. The title of this chapter is called: “The Arcane Realm.” This chapter describes another dimension that is full of power that the creatures of Sky World call the Arcane. The passage goes on to note what this realm is, an untapped and unending source of power. With the power of curiosity, all creatures in the realm have been able to call upon this power, transferring their mana into a spell via a conduit. Troy turns the page that explains the transference spells and conduits. His pointer finger slides down the transference spells that mainly deal with movement such as transportation as well as contraptions that use arcane mag

Yet, what I beheld within caused my jaw to drop in astonishment as if it had detached from my face and plummeted to the floor below. [You have acquired the Arcane Tower blueprint] “Huh?” [Arcane Towers, also known as Arcane Turrets, are Constructs forged from Mana ore, crafted to safeguard cities within ancient civilizations. Immobile and formidable, these towers serve as sentinels, relentlessly targeting any creature that dares to approach.] [Armed with potent abilities, Arcane Towers unleash antimagic rays that pierce through any form of physical or magical defence, rendering conventional barriers futile in the face of their onslaught.]

Stumbling back, I crouched down, ready to attack, “What in the name of Loki are you doing? Go now before I change my mind and kick you, sorry little ass!” Arcane stood between us, blocking my view of her, and his eyes bored into mine. His fingertips had turned to long black talons, and almost black eyes focused only on me. Why the fucking hell did his beast interfere in this!?

Like my body knew it was safe following his lead. Xavier reached into a nearby drawer and pulled out a small brown bottle. He opened it, and the scent hit me fast—sharp, herbal, medicinal. I scrunched my nose. “What is that?” “Arnica,” he said, pouring a little into his hand. “For bruising. You’re gonna feel this scene tomorrow—I just don’t want you wearing it like a war wound.” His hands were warm. Skilled. He massaged the lotion into my skin, slow and rhythmic, starting with my ass where the crop had kissed me the hardest, then moving to my wrists, my ankles, the places the straps had bit in deepest.

It lacks the redundancy of the mesh. "That’s why it’s valuable," Anya countered. "Its fragility is what makes it precious. You protect what can be lost. You ignore what is infinite." Raven was putting this theory into practice in the basement of the communal laundry facility. The annealed brass valve he and Leo had reclaimed from the sun was now installed in the primary steam manifold. It stood out against the grey, galvanized pipes like a piece of jewelry—a warm, golden heart in the center of the machine.