Beginning Visions Novels & Stories

"Don't write him off before that moment comes." She felt his resistance to that one like a change in temperature. She didn't argue with it. She had learned a long time ago that the visions were not arguments, that they did not benefit from being defended, that they arrived and then they waited for the person receiving them to catch up in their own time.

Another: Lucien and others, fighting desperately against something I couldn't quite seem The visions tumbled in more rapidly now, overlapping and contradicting each other, showing possible futures rather than certain ones. But in every vision, one reality was consistent: fierce devastation was coming. "My child, you must pull back, right now!" Her hands clamped onto my shoulders, her energy flowing into me as she tried to ground my consciousness. " Your mind can't cope with this!" But I could not pull away. The visions had barbs in my brain, dragging me farther into the horror of what was to be. I saw destruction.

“I feel much better after talking. Do you think the warriors will be fine?” “If they follow every line of your instructions,” Nanny replied, “Visions are clear warnings of future occurrences. They’re not like dreams, which are always ambiguous. And whenever there’s a vision, it means there’s a chance for the bad things to be averted. Let’s hope they do as you’ve told them.”

“You had a Vision, didn’t you?” I blinked. “What’s the difference?” “A Dream is fleeting. Vague. You can see things, but you cannot hear them, touch them, feel them. A Vision — that touches everything your senses know. One is a story…one is a warning. A hint of the future.” I swallowed again. “I…had a Vision.” Her eyes darkened imperceptibly as I recounted it, every word drawing a shadow across her face. “You had a Vision,” she murmured, her tone low, almost a growl. “Your Vision means…you and Carter are the Chosen Ones.”

she said in a calm, steady voice but, I noticed a slight tremor betraying curiosity, fear, and a quiet recognition of the seriousness in my tone. I seated myself across from her, mindful to keep a respectful distance. "I’ve been having visions," I started, "dreams that don’t fade with the sunrise. I keep seeing a hand reaching... and a voice urging me to find you. To protect you. I doubted what they meant for weeks, I thought it was my pack responsibilities twisting my mind. But when I saw you in that cell, unconscious, I realized the truth. I recognized the pull. The Moon had been guiding me, and it was clear that you are part of what it wants me to protect."

After a few drinks, a girl came up to me. “Hey handsome.” I ignored her but she was persistent. She tried to grab my attention. After taking another shot, I turned to look at her. Suddenly, I saw Amelia. Is it really her? I held her hand but it felt different. I blinked multiple times and saw that she wasn’t Amelia. Why am I seeing her all of a sudden?

“Tell me.” Needing some space, I move from his lap and sit next to him. He sits back and curls his knees up, waiting patiently. My stomach flutters at the prospect of what I’m about to say. What will he think when I tell him? Feeling nervous, I lift my hand to my hair and curl a strand around my index finger. Kell waits patiently as I take another deep breath and begin. “A few years ago, I began to see things… visions. It mostly happened when I looked in a mirror. So, I avoided looking into mirrors as much as I could. At first, they were flashes. Kind of like snapshots of scenes. I was never sure what they were. One time I saw a short hazy vision of a boy getting killed. But lately, the flas

The AI comm system buzzed faintly in my helmet. But then it died. No noise. No signal. Just… Stillness. And then— A pulse. Through the ground. Through my boots. Up my spine. And a voice—not with words, but memory. “Do you remember us?” A vision. Not a hallucination. Not a dream. A d******d. Flooding my mind. I collapsed to my knees on the dust-coated ground. The Vision A city under the moon’s crust. Built before memory. Before species. Before language.

--- The empty space changed. A tiny point of light appeared. Liana watched as it expanded. The first sound. The first movement. The first spark. Then came time. Then space. Then possibility. Then the first dream. Liana watched everything happen. The First Dream wasn't first. The Witness wasn't first. The Origin Ones weren't first. They came later. Much later. The woman beside Liana spoke. "The First Dream was the first thing to imagine." "The Witness was the first thing to observe."

The whispers that Kael had learned to listen to had opened a new door within him. They had taught him to be still, to trust, to open his heart to the guidance that was always there. But now, the whispers were growing into something more. They were becoming visions—glimpses of a future that was yet to unfold, a path that was waiting to be walked. These visions came to him in moments of stillness, in the quiet spaces between thought and feeling. They were not dreams, but something more vivid, more real. They were a gift from the ancestors, a reminder that the work of healing was never truly done.