Novel & Cerita Chronicles Of Primordial Wars

FINAL DAY OF THE AWAKENING Chaos’s P.O.V I was awoken by the beating of drums and the echoes of a chant you rarely heard even back in our home realm. A chant that was as old as time itself. I turned to find Xavier leaning against the headboard with his eyes squeezed shut.

"It still doesn't sound that bad." "By evil, I mean any form of immorality, Anything against the law, including minor things like petty theft, lies, and other things which are mostly ignored by the society." "Well, that's horrible." "Yes Taz, it was horrible. It led to the complete annihilation of two other packs." "Oh my God." Taz said with his mouth agape. "Can it ever come back?" "It depends." "On what?" "It depends on the level of peace and cooperation. But for the past Hundred years, after the new tradition was created there has been Peace."

She has been the reason I haven’t ended this world time and time again. This being had gone through a good bit. Many of my children seem to care about this human. I’m not sure why. Too many souls in one small being. I know what Chaos wants. He’s a twisted abomination at this point. He wasn’t always like that. He was my prized child that created this world. I have other children that have created other worlds. That’s why they are called primordials. They gave birth to the mothers and fathers of the creation of those worlds. The creations are always known as the Titans. The Titans are what the inhabitants normally refer to as gods. Anyway, I’m getting off track.

Oni spoke to everyone … “We thought that the prochpy was completed with these words for years until I found my ancestors journal with a procephy that seemed to relate or mirror this one, please read it.” The second one appeared below the first one and seemed much older. “Life, Death, Time, Gravity, Light, Darkness, and Creation are in a battle with the darkest of evils. Evil no longer will have a say when she roams free entrapping the Earth in how she befits it to be. Slavery and mockary will be used to hide the true plans of Esime. With the forces older than the Gods attacking her and trying to fix what is broken in this timeline they will birth new unrecycled souls laid with the memories o

I opened the chest again and stared at the mountain of documents waiting for me inside. There had to be more. There had to be answers hidden somewhere among these papers. I needed to know everything now. What role did my parents truly play in this secret war? Who exactly were the Primordials? And when this war finally arrived at our doorstep... What would happen to Luca and Sofia? What would happen to us?

"But these pre-cataclysmic texts speak of an older era—before the sun and moon were bound to the sky. An era ruled by the Primordial Frost." "The Primordial Frost?" Marcus frowned. "Is it another shifter tribe?" "No," Aurelia shook her head. "They were not shifters, nor were they beings of elemental mana. They were the primordial static—beings born from the cold void before the world's core ignited. When the First Sovereign and the Sun Queen created the Primarch’s Crucible, they didn't just regulate the world's mana... they sealed the Primordial Frost deep beneath the glaciers of the far North."

she retorted as she not so subtly rolled her eyes. "Lycan King Oscar coveted such powers, so he charmed the Primordial's princess. He got to learn that once every ten years, the Primordial's were at their lowest and powerless. He mobilized his warriors, and they attacked. Being the Primordial's princess, she was entrusted to protect the Chronos with her life. Just before she died, she activated it and asked to make three wishes." The seer explained, her voice dropping an octave and I leaned forward as I placed my palms flat against the desk and tried to capture every word that was being spoken.

He had seen what happened when the First Wolf’s influence had nearly consumed her, and now, as she touched the relic, it was clear that something deeper was stirring. They descended into the hidden chamber beneath the sanctum, their footsteps echoing in the stillness. Inside, the air was thick with the weight of the past. Ancient markings were etched into the walls—symbols that no one recognized, far older than any known language, older than even the Forsaken or the Watchers. The markings spoke of a creature that had existed before time, before balance, before the Moonborn. A Prime Wolf.

Only then did he lift the cover. "This," he said at last, angling the lens so the curling script and gilded margins swam into focus, "is the Chronicle of Eryndral, the earliest surviving account written in the aftermath of the Purging Wars of the Lycan curse. It details the lineages born of Aeryna herself." My throat tightened as he turned to a page inked with curling genealogies and painted crests.

he pushed her away from the fire. She walked down to her car, looking down at the small globe that her Grandfather used to talk about. It was Native American legend that a place called the in-between existed only if magic was interrupted or used for evil. Many feared it would plague their village, they cast out the ones born on certain holidays. He said when his globe glowed red, a war would cast. Many deaths, many new beginnings.”