Arcane #vander Novels & Stories

"The 'Creditor' didn't just infect the grid. It left 'Hard-Anchors' in the physical architecture of the city. There are 'Pockets of the Past' that refuse to 'Sync' with the 'Spring'." Avery Vane-Thorne walked to the desk, her indigo-silk robes trailing like a river of twilight across the Persian rug. She didn't look at the key. She looked at Dominic’s hands. The "Resonance-Scars" on his knuckles were glowing with a sharp, agitated amber.

He emerged from the shadows, into a massive cavernous dungeon. The air was cold, smelling of old decay. The anchor was hanging in the middle of the room over a black water pit. It was a great big beating heart, all of crystallized, glowing blood. Dozenous powerful, throbbing magical arteries were attached to the crystal heart, leading straight to the coastal barrier. Four huge Vampire Executioners stood under the heart, their bodies grotesquely twisted by dark magic. Jace didn't hesitate. He was the Vanguard's deadly ghost.

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.

Only one held the shape of a future that wasn’t a slow, private failure. “Shadow specialist,” she said at last. “Who.” Aria didn’t answer immediately. When she did, her tone carried the wariness of someone opening a door to a room they’d nailed shut for good reason. “There’s a man in the deep market,” she said. “Name on the street shifts, but the one that sticks is Vance. Ex‑Siren engineer. High clearance once upon a time. Helped design early cascade schematics before he decided Mother looked better from far away and vanished into freelance hell.”

Her hand shot up and a spell circle appeared at the end of the long conference table, glowing purple and various other colors on the sigils. "Rach? What is it?" Vayu asked. "I was saving this for the last but I guess I'd better show you guys now." From the spell circle, Arjan's severed head appeared. There was a crown of black thorny vines on his head, and two zinnias bloomed on his eye sockets. The flowers were profusely red that Lars at first mistook as blood. He instantly turned away.

Spears of stares could not touch me. “What is your name, witch?” My hand was itching to punish him by showing off his dominance against me. I was about to rebut when I felt someone touch my shoulder. I looked up and he was looking straight at me. He looked too professional and formal making me look like an impulsive kid warned by my father. I faced the old vampire and offered a small smile. “I am Zille Wicca, Lord Vander. I came from the family of Wicca of North Exville.” I formally spoke and his eyes went cold. Too cold that could make a normal individual shiver.

The sanctuary, once sealed in slumber beneath centuries of decay and dread, now awakened for its rightful heir. Arla-Rosa stood at the heart of the Flamebearer’s chamber, surrounded by concentric runes etched in starlight and bloodline magic. Amarantha stood across from her, cloaked in ceremonial robes of the Saphiren matriarchs, her face serene yet shadowed by the weight of decades. In her hands, she held the Ignis Core, a glowing relic that once pulsed at the center of every Saphiren ritual.

She flipped it around so both Erin and Jada could see it. Jada released a sigh, mesmerized seeing the blue glow around the root. She analyzed the piece with her artistic eyes and immediately recognized it as a herb unlike any she had encountered in all her years of practice as a herbalist in her former settlement, before arriving at Arcana Hills. "What is that?" Erin asked while Jada remained fixated on the image. "It's called the Acheron root. It is to vampires what wolfsbane is to wolves," Chensa explained. Dean Carol stepped forward and placed her hands gently on Jada's shoulders, snapping her out of her trance. "We have missions for you, and it starts with transferring from Arcana Hills

--- Part I – Beneath the Ember Vault Deep beneath the volcanic caves of Mount Thirell, past centuries of collapsed corridors and rusted glyph walls, a hidden chamber pulsed with forgotten heat. Red light licked the stone like a flame caught in slow time. A lone figure knelt before a relic bound in iron and bone: the Ember Vault. Its surface shimmered with wards half-melted, once meant to never be disturbed. But they were failing. The figure, cloaked in ash-crimson robes, removed her mask. Her name was Calren Voss, exiled archivist of Venara, now rogue prophet of the Red Circle.

Vivan added showing madness in his voice however they very next after Ravan heard Aisha and his unborn child name from Vivan mouth he pounded on him and kicked his gun away from his hand and started punching him in his gut, Vivan to started landing hard punches in Ravan direction, in now time their fight grew extremely ugly also not a single guard of shabbier dared to entered his mansion as they all were aware of Ravan wrath. Ravan and Vivan kept landing several punches in each other direction until at one point where Ravan pulled out ‘khanda’ a double-edge straight sword which was placed on shabbier main wall as decorative art piece and pierced it straight through Vivan heart which got him