Blue Seraphim Novels & Stories

Nezeira, “The Illusontis people!?” Kabir, “Right you are.” Nezeira, “What about Uraos?” Kabir, “Now that’s a good question. Legend says after he witnessed the destruction caused by Serkhet he was swept with regret and a bitter realization of what his obsession in finding the perfect celestial has caused, disregarding the forces of nature. It is said that he handed over the Heavenly Realm to his daughter Isret and became a human to live among his creations in secret. However, the rumor goes that his powers did not diminish even when he became a human. He had followers who were loyal worshippers of him and also safeguarded his secret. The Faith of the Blue was a staunch devotee and powerful se

"Open your mind." I pushed out a long breath and touched him. I wasn't sucked into his magical plane immediately. This time it was almost as if I had the option of leaving my body to join with his. I gave my permission and merged with Atlas on the spiritual plane. I did note that he had a triad of colors too: silvers that shimmered like mercury and sterling, fiery golden yellows, and stark whites. The thread of black summoned me, pulling at me relentlessly. I didn't have it in me to look away from the healing he obviously needed. Just as with Asher, I wrapped a piece of my spirit around the throbbing ball of black of his own. Kept feeding it until it was encased in my own spirit.

His intense blue eyes lifted to meet hers, and for a moment, the outside world seemed to vanish. Asher Kingsley was a striking figure. Standing at 6'4" with a chiseled jawline and a sculpted physique, he exuded an almost otherworldly allure. His impeccably tailored dark suit accentuated his broad shoulders and lean frame. His intense blue eyes, framed by dark, thick lashes, seemed to pierce through the room, and his tousled dark hair added a touch of rugged charm to his otherwise polished appearance. Despite his godlike handsomeness, his stern expression conveyed a seriousness that left no room for frivolity.

Around her, the celestial thrones of the five Seraphims stood tall, as if the echoes of betrayal were but a farce. Each throne was a reflection of its master’s essence, forged from the first lights of creation — now dimmed beneath Luna’s cold dominion. On the right of Luna’s dais sat Sariel, the Seraph of Discipline and Secrets. His throne was carved from obsidian glass veined with silver light, the glow of distant constellations flickering faintly across his armor like the trapped breath of the cosmos. His gaze was sharp and detached. The eyes of one who had seen too much and judged too little. The lunar brilliance traced the severe planes of his face, his folded wings like midnight forged

Numb the pain. I wanted something now, not to numb the pain though, but to wipe what I'd seen from my head. How could I lock away what he'd shown me? There wasn't a trinket box big enough to hold that horror. Behold the Seraphim , he'd said. Born of fire . The Great Winged Serpents. Caretakers of the Throne. Destroyers of the First. Changeless. Eternal . The Highest of the Most High . They are your gods. They are your saviours, your judgement and your damnation.

"We are here to save the mountain. The High Circle is bringing down a Colossus." ​The woman laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. "And why should we care? Let the mountain fall. We have lived in the dark for three hundred years while your father hunted us like vermin." ​"Because of her," Kael said, stepping aside. ​Seraphina stood forward. The blue marks on her arms began to glow, reacting to the massive crystal veins in the floor. The cavern suddenly lit up, the crystals reflecting her light until the entire room looked like the inside of a star.

Bethel sounded almost deranged. Seraphina looked from Bethel to Rose and Melanie who were all stood waiting. Seraphina felt her cheeks flush under their stares and then slowly started to pull the arms of her dress down to reveal the large silver dragon that started on her left shoulder and gradually made its way across her chest, stopping slightly before where her Dhampir markings sat.

that sought to buy his soul with the one thing he wanted most. "Seraphina..." Silas whispered, his gold-and-sapphire skin stabilizing. The iridescent Eye in the sky let out a soft, rhythmic hum of satisfaction. USER TRANSACTION: 'RESTORE ANCESTOR'. COST: 50,000 GENESIS CREDITS. CONFIRM? From the "Premium Gold" light descending over the courtyard, a figure began to take shape. It wasn't a ghost, and it wasn't a god. It was Seraphina. But she wasn't the Queen of Gold and Sapphire. She was a "Legendary Skin"—a perfect, un-scarred version of Silas’s mother, her eyes two solid pools of mercury-silver logic.

And on the glove, stitched into the fabric A sigil. A serpent coiled around a sword. Petra’s eyes widened. “That’s not just anyone. That’s Seraph.” Roman’s blood ran cold. “Seraph is a myth,” he said. “A ghost unit. Black ops trained in cyber-espionage and biochemical warfare. They don’t exist on paper.” “They do,” Petra corrected. “And if Seraph is here then Damien was just one chapter of a bigger story.” Later That Night, Safehouse in Zurich

Damien plugged the drive into his holopad and frowned. “Siberia,” he muttered. “Of course.” Ava narrowed her eyes. “This place Project Nephilim it’s not a lab. It’s a womb.” Seraphina was no longer just a prototype. Her pod had drained. She now stood upright, dressed in a thin, silver gown that shimmered like liquid mercury. Her hair fell in wet curls past her shoulders, and her eyes unnaturally large and silver-flecked glowed faintly even in the dark.