Chains Of Gold Book Novels & Stories

he says over his shoulder, “you’ll come to me.” The door opens at his approach. “And Anastasia?” “Yes?” His eyes meet mine one last time. “I don’t take what isn’t mine.” The door seals completely. Steel on steel. Final. Only then do I realize my fingers are clenched so tightly my nails bite into my palm. I don’t move toward the ring. I don’t touch it. I stare at it like it might move on its own. The house is silent again, but it’s not the same silence as before. This one feels occupied. Like something has been left behind on purpose.

I said, moving into a room, there were chains on the floor and there was a silver coin in the corner of the room. "Just imagine what Mantha must have gone through." Jay said to me and I sighed softly. I picked the silver and though it burnt my skin it didn't hurt much. I looked at it carefully to know what sort of coin it was, that might help to trace the source of the coin but it turned out that the coin was just a normal usual coin. I dropped the coin and walked over to the chains, I pulled the chains up and came in sight with a book. I grabbed the book and opened the dusty but a bit fancy book. "You might want to see this." Dad voice came.

Became a roar that shook the marrow of the world. The flames burst from her skin in a ring of gold and violet, weaving through the cracks of the altar, dancing up the walls like justice remembering its own name. And the Chain of Thrones, Burned. Fully. Not with chaos. But with clarity. Each link flared once. Just once.

It seems like she's very prim when it comes to answering my question. I'm really curious. I even came closer there to stare more. The side of my eyes then glided at a written signature but there's no name on it. And what caught my attention, was the little letter on the clock. "After all we are all bound and chained to dust..." I read. My heart pounded heavily, I do not know why but the moment I read it, I feel some indifference. I don't know. Its longness, and a kind of ache.

One by one. Thousands of them. The mountain trembled. Then the gigantic door slowly opened. A blast of freezing air rushed outward. The chamber beyond was enormous. Larger than the underground city itself. I stared in stunned silence. The cavern stretched beyond sight. An entire world hidden beneath the mountain. At its center stood a throne. A colossal throne forged from silver metal. And wrapped around it— A chain. One chain. The largest chain I had ever seen. Its links were bigger than houses. Silver fire flowed across its surface.

“Okay, let’s begin.” She went to the first shelf behind the table, her fingers ran along the thick and dusty books, it seemed like they had not been moved for ages, and she also noticed that the books on this shelf were sorted by color, except for one which was misplaced. She reached for it above her head and pulled it out, the book was heavy but it seemed like it was just the book she was supposed to find. It was a book bound in hard blue covers and etched along the spine in gold letters was the word; “Khione.”

Broken Chains The silver cuffs around Marcus’s wrists popped open like ice cracking on a winter pond, just like that, no warning, no ceremony. Holy energy, rolling up from the guts of the castle, fried the corrupted metal and sizzled away the poison tubes jammed into his arms. Steam hissed, chains hit the ground with a sparkly little crash, and suddenly he was free.

This showed just how old Silver Claws was. It was magnificent, overwhelming. My pulse thrummed, and my hands itched to touch everything, to feel the history and knowledge trapped within these pages. I moved carefully, fingers grazing the spines, reading titles in languages I didn’t fully understand, yet feeling a pull, a resonance that hummed beneath my skin. And then I saw it. A book, smaller than most, bound in deep black leather. Its edges shimmered faintly, like a mirage of smoke and starlight. The title was written in gold letters, delicate and flowing: The Art of Ancient and Secret Domains.

A heavy vibration moved through the dirt beneath my bare feet. It was not an earthquake. It was a pulse. A slow, thumping rhythm that made the bones inside my shins ache. The sound of iron chains echoed out of the dark. The links were massive, each one thicker than an old oak tree, covered in glowing golden writing that burned with harsh, white sparks. The chains stretched across the cavern, pulled tight against tall pillars of solid obsidian rock. Beneath those chains, the continent moved.

Right as college acceptance letters went out, my golden boy of a brother, Bill Cyrus, spread a rumor that I stole his spot at Braxton University. His only proof was a single paparazzi shot of me standing outside the university gates. Of course, my parents believed him. To protect Bill's precious reputation, they forced me to take the fall. They even threatened to lock me away in an internet-addiction center for good to erase their embarrassment of their younger son—the one who dropped out and ran wild for a year. Watching my own family line up to tear me apart over one massive lie, the last scrap of hope I had for them shattered completely. I stopped holding back. I watched, ice-cold, a