Blue Lantern Saint Walker Novels & Stories

Siron screamed. Kit slumped to the ground, motionless. Rage flooded Siron. A rage that was pure, hot, and golden. The weave in his chest flared violently, and without realizing it, he pulled out both the blue crystal and the Winged Sun medallion, gripping them tight. "Help me," he prayed, not knowing to whom. "Anyone who wants to help. The water guardians. The Founding Spirits. Even the Order. Help me!" The blue crystal shattered in his hand, releasing a brilliant blue light. The scattered water guardians rose, uniting into a single, massive current of water.

"Gentlemen, I don't know what has happened here today, but I suggest you get rid of this body and clean up the rest of the field. I am waiting for my compensation so I can leave, Council Members! It looks like a massacre has happened here." "Very well, um, what's your name again?" "My name is Jessblue, High Harbinger!" He looks at me and says, "Jessblue, I will have the guard bring your payment to you." Fifteen minutes later, I walk out of Bluestoria fields with my payment and the documents I had stolen from the tournament table stating I was a slave to the council members. Now, I begin my promise and journey to live life and not let anything break me down ever again. I will become stronger

An invasion of the mind was common to wolves, telepathic links were what bound packs together but the Mente Compartida was a much more dangerous ritual. She looked to her father and nodded her head, he nodded back in understanding before turning. She faced the Alpha’s, equal looks of anger and fear in their eyes at the forgotten challenge. She ignored them and turned back to the male who kneeled before her. “I have shown you mercy. More than your father ever gave to my people,” She said to him. He met her eyes and sucked in a breath as their gazes connected. Silver and sapphire blue. Her beast locked tightly away under her skin, pushed to the back of her mind. She walked past him and let her

AUTHOR’S POV DIONY EMPIRE Heavy silence reigned in the large hall; everyone on the seat had a worried expression except Nektarios, who had a blank, unreadable face. Despite the ominous feeling in the air, he didn't seem bothered. The empire's blind spiritual leader, mainly referred to as the Spirit Walker, a vampire from the Dominican witch's clan, barely shows herself unless trouble looms. The last time Nektarios had noticed her around the palace was when his father, Atlas, was still alive before tragedy struck them. He wasn't sure what sort of warning she brought now.