Black Quill Novels & Stories

I stare at the quill and then Dexter wondering if he thinks I'm into fairy tales. "Then how'd you get it?" I ask with sarcasm, but he laughs loudly and draws near. "Luck!" He says in my face while I draw back. "Its feathers would turn into other colours five minutes after shedding, so if you want to keep the bright colours then you must process it at a specific period," he tells me. Regardless of what he says I still have a hard time believing the origin of this story, but I'm puzzled by the uniqueness of the quill that I find myself falling for his story, "you sure it's not a myth,"

The alpha pulls out a smooth black stone. I blink as I stare up at it. We’ve known of its existence for a long time, of course. This stone is the source of Quinton’s power, the way he created the three of us. But I’ve never actually seen it. It’s smooth on all sides, slightly oblong, and a deep ebony color that seems to swallow the little bit of light that filters down from the moon and stars overhead.

He knew the path from the book: a narrow goat trail leading to a hidden cave overlooking the battlefield. He found it—a dark fissure in the cliffside, pulsing with a malevolent energy. Inside, on a crude stone altar, sat the artifact: a black cube of obsidian, veined with crimson light that throbbed like a diseased heart. He could hear the distant sounds of battle—the grunts of men, the sizzle of Keith’s fire magic, the unearthly shrieks of disintegrating ghouls. It wouldn't take them long. He had to move.

Still, I had written enough books with the help of my quill that I had more than a steady income. I picked up the quill in question, twirling it around my fingers. The quill appeared to be a typical quill used by authors. Well, they don’t actually use them these days. Most use pens and pencils, which was fine, but I had always wanted to learn how to use a quill. So when I saw one that day in the bookstore I usually go to, I bought it. It was a set that came with its very own ink.

I promise. ~~~ "What's the progress?" "The cargo has been conveyed to Southern borders, sir. Tomorrow, the rest of it will follow. The Bull's Elite are holding a conference meeting at the Margan site. They request your presence this time, Lord" The eyes if Dillion shifted to his subordinate that was cladded in all black. Black shoes, black suit, black belt, black tie and black shirt underneath the suit and his eyes being expressionless, he turned his attention back to the fanciful dagger in his hand and played with the edges. "Keep the Lord subject for now. I don't want the black Cobras finding out my identity."

Alpha Emerald Black "Alpha black, are we going to do nothing and watch bunch of asshole destroy our allies why we do nothing in return. “Ethan said in disappointment as he scratched the beard. He those that a lot when he feels irritated about something. I don't know why he was being so dramatic, he should be happy it wasn't our pack that is been destroyed, and harmed.

’Good morning staffs, I would very much like to make this meeting a very short one’ The manager tells us. ‘For the new staffs who do not know the boss, this is mr. Jones Black, C.E.O of Mars private hospital, which you all know has branches all over the continent’. The manager says, addressing the fine piece of art beside him. Mr. Black just waves at us, a light smile on his lips which makes my breath hitch. I know I am sounding like a hopeless romantic right now but I can’t deny the attraction I feel towards this man. ‘Oh. My. God! He looks even more stunning with that smile’. Goldie says, twisting a strand of hair around her finger as she stares dreamingly at Mr. Black.

she gasped. “They’re stories that never got told.” Now she understood The First Quill wasn’t evil It wasn’t cruel, It was compulsive, It couldn’t stop rewriting because it had once created everything and now, it feared the mess it had made, So it was cleaning, Pruning, Perfecting, Even if it meant erasing all imperfection, Even if that meant her. In the distance, a black tower rose from the earth, made of books stitched together by spine and ink, At its top: a single quill, floating midair, writing endlessly into a burning sky, That was the core, That was the First Quill.

Quill ink. He still used a quill. The old ink formula. Iron salts and oak gall. When it dried, it left a brownish residue in the nail beds. It could not be washed away. Now those two brown crescents were aimed directly at her eyes. "Esteemed Grand Elders. Mother of All Wolves." The plaintiff's voice was soft. But the curved stone walls of the parliamentary dome carried every syllable to every corner of the hall. "I am Cael Grey of Greyhollow in the North. I bring bloodline documents proving my descent can be traced to Aurora Nyx. Direct descendant of the previous Mother of All Wolves."

My mouth purses as I see the symbols written over all my walls. "The prick got past my wards Quinn," I growled and waved the symbols off my walls. I looked down at Quinn and his eyes turned completely black with a speck of glowing purple. Oh fuck, the darkness is invading him. I pressed my hands against his face and poured myself into him. He closed his eyes and growled low. I sat up and Quinn pushed me as he turned to his black mist and darted out the window into the night. I appeared outside watching him leave.