Book Fragment Novels & Stories

“Yes sir!” the men replied. Once more, Zephyr laid his eyes on the books, his gaze rested on one of them. The book was covered in a layer of dust and was made of bamboo. It looked unique. “Thunderfoot?” Zephyr muttered as he opened the book, reading its contents. A wave of excitement washed over him. He excitedly flipped through the pages, carefully memorizing the technique’s intricate steps.

I mumbled, running my hand through the stained page. "Why don't we look at the art book you mentioned? We might find something worthy in it." Sam picked it up and went back to where he sat before, while I was still stuck with the journal. There was something odd about it; I felt as if it contained every necessary information I might need, but somebody had purposely damaged that part of the journal. "Here!" Sam tapped on the book in front of him. "I think we have found a fragment of what we are searching for." Then he began to read it out.

The stone blocks are fractured and held together only by stubbornness and old magic, but the light brightens, urging me closer. I step carefully toward it, hands ready to catch myself if the ground shifts again. The thread winds up the broken stones until it reaches a narrow seam, hardly noticeable unless you’re looking for it. I kneel and press my fingertips along the crack, and the stone warms beneath my touch. A soft whisper stirs through the air, not spoken, not written, but felt. My mark burns gently, and the crack splits open. Only an inch, but enough for something to flutter loose. A folded scrap of parchment, so thin and fragile I’m afraid it might crumble to dust when I touch it.

But I сhаngе mу mind whеn I ѕее the pages of thе first half of thе notebook are fіllеd wіth flоwеrу, cursive ѕсrірt. [Next POV: 'Blake' in Chapter 73]

Selene said carefully, "that we understand exactly what he's building before we move against him. The requisition alone tells us he has the materials. It doesn't tell us what he intends to construct with them, or how long that construction requires." "I might be able to help with that," I said, and all three of them turned to look at me with varying degrees of surprise. "The old records you've been working through — the ones describing the original binding, the ones that mentioned the fragment possibility. Do they say anything about what a fragment actually needs to expand a breach? Specific conditions, specific timing?" Selene considered the question seriously, pulling one particular text c

Support my book as well. Thank you.

"Is that a promise?" "No, Baby. It's a guarantee." He kissed my cheeks before letting me go. - "Mommy, the glue is not enough," Reid told me. "Do you need more for the scrapbook?" I asked them. "Yes." Their smile widened as they spoke at the same time. "Hmm. All right. Let's buy. What, let’s go?" I invite them. They nodded. "Just wait, ha. I'll talk to our driver first." I got up and went up the stairs. I knocked on the door of Wright’s home office before I could open it. It lowered the paper it was holding and looked at me in amazement.

At that moment, the skull general suddenly furrowed his brow, and the strange book that had been stored away for a long time suddenly came out on its own and glowed. "What's happening? Why is this book..." The Skull General suddenly thought of something, he took the floating book and opened the glowing page from it. As he read the contents of the page, his body trembled uncontrollably. His hands felt weak, and his legs seemed ready to collapse to the ground.

29 A knock on my room door interrupted my reading. I was reading 'Bloom', the book Zac had given me. He was right when he said I would like it. It was heartwarming and made me smile as I thought about my mom. Speak of the devil. Zac walked in, staring down at his shoes as he walked over to me. My eyebrows pulled together as I instantly noticed his knuckles that were cut up and bruised. I blinked, sitting up straighter. "Zac... what happened? What's wrong?"

The sketch spins into the inferno consuming the archives. The remaining fragments follow, lifted by heat until they disappear into the flames and curl into glowing embers. I chase them three steps before stopping. There is nothing left to save. Only a single torn corner remains caught beneath my boot. My pulse thunders in my ears. I pick it up carefully. Most of the page has vanished. Only one incomplete sentence survives. Written in faded ink are the words: “The first brother must refuse the crown.”