Broken Compass Book Novels & Stories

Walking over to Daniel he opens the carriage door for me, and I climb in. Inside the carriage, I wrap the red cloak around myself allowing it to hang off my shoulders. Pulling the paper from Gregory out from where I had it tucked in my pants, I unfold it reading its contents. There were no words it was just a simple map showing the roads to take in order to find the blacksmith and the commander's home. Tucking the paper away, I sit the silent sway of the carriage nearly lulling me to sleep. I am about to close my eyes, when Daniel opens the door, popping his head in.

He never got to finished what he was saying when many black wolf entered the premises and when they saw him they started to bring out those teeth and started to yelp. They started to circling where Liam was standing while he was also glancing at them one by one. Looking behind him and then to his front. There is one leader of the pack, they were just waiting for his signal to attack Liam. When they got the signal just by staring at hos eyes they already know what would that be and even Liam knows that sign. When he saw that sign, Liam prepares himself to engaged while he was waiting for them to attack. Upon getting the sign from their leader, they turned their heads to Liam and prepare to at

An eighth Founder. Somewhere. Still hidden. Still unnamed. At the top of the stairs, in the fading light beside the empty grave, Isaac lifted the small brass compass to check their bearing toward the hotel. The needle spun. Not gently. Not the careful, deliberate rotation it had shown before. Violently, wildly, as though something inside it had finally been let loose until, all at once, it stopped. It didn’t point back toward the hotel. It didn’t point toward another Key, another city, another grave waiting somewhere to be found.

He bowed and was gone as quickly as he arrived, leaving the heavy satchel behind. I lunged for the bag the moment the tent flap sealed. I untied the cord with shaking fingers and pulled out the book. It wasn't ancient and brittle. It was a modern reprint, but the cover read: Healers' Lore: The Legacy of the Wounded Crown. It was a medical text, disguised as a historical relic.

My thoughts whirled like a tornado—not entirely because of the book, but because of the desperate longing buried in my chest. I turned the page, my breath hitching as the details of the magical compass caught my eye. Drawn exquisitely, it outlined the four cardinal directions, with luminous gems—blue for water, green for earth, red for fire, and yellow for air—at the ends of the compass hands. Each one twinkled as if whispering secrets of the universe. I leaned in closer, fascinated by the intricate swirling patterns dancing between the gems, but it was what lay at the center of that compass that truly captivated me: a small star symbol strikingly similar to the birthmark etched delicately o

He reached into his long rope and pulled out a small, gleaming object. It was a compass unlike any I’d ever seen. The casing glowed faintly and runes etched along its outline pulsing with slow light. “This compass is no ordinary tool; it's my proudest creation.” He said, holding it out to me. “The needle points to every artifact you’re meant to inside the Void. It will also reveal traps before you walk into them.” I stared at the compass in his hand. This feels wrong. “Corin…” I shook my head. “I can’t take this.”

It smelled of rank B&O and stale fries. When he got to his feet, he was a little dizzy, but that wasn’t going to stop him. He had found some old books and a few blades stain with what looked like blood. He started digging around on the desk hoping to find something, but he didn’t know what. That is when he came across an old leather-bound book with strange writing across it. He saw the pictures of a crystal cross that had emeralds lined down the middle. Well, that helped Thomas understand why the cross ended up being very important but why did he have a piece of it?

"We just need to get out of the fog; it's just that we've been stuck in it since yesterday," Alfine explained. “I used to do reconnaissance in the dark and fog; even without a compass, I could guess the direction.” He held out the hand containing Lagan's broken compass. "Your compass is jammed, follow it, and you'll never get out."

It tipped over, shattering into a thousand glinting shards. “Fucking hell,” I muttered. The sharp pain registered too late. I looked down, my palm smeared red, glass embedded in the flesh. The pain barely registered. It was nothing compared to the firestorm inside me. I sank back, the weight of fatigue and anger pulling me down. My vision hazed a little, a mix of alcohol and sleep deprivation. The broken glass twinkled on the floor like a sick mosaic of my life—sharp, perilous, and waiting to cut anyone who drew near.