City Of Agartha Novels & Stories

Agatha, a frail figure with weathered features, sat in a worn armchair by the fireplace, her piercing gaze fixed upon me. “You've come,” she say, her voice laced with a mixture of weariness and anticipation. “The chosen one walks among us once again.” I approach her cautiously, my eyes drawn to the ancient books surrounding her, their faded spines whispering secrets of forgotten ages. “Agatha,” I began, my voice betraying both determination and trepidation. “I seek your guidance. The Night Howlers have fallen under a curse that plagues our lineage.” Agatha nodded knowingly, her eyes glimmering with ancient wisdom. Yes, child,” she replied, her voice carrying the weight of centuries. “The cu

​The Holographic City ​In the center of the Eye of the Sahara, where the sand had been most heavily infused with Bismuth-alloy, a city began to rise. It wasn’t made of brick or steel; it was a Ghost-Architecture a shimmering, three dimensional blueprint of the first fallen system, Aethel-9. ​The buildings were slender spires that looked like frozen songs, connected by bridges of light that defied gravity. As the projection stabilized, we could see the figures of the Aethel people. They were tall, translucent beings whose movements were synchronized with a rhythm we didn't yet understand.

Before the Legion came to attack the north, Stone Glacier had been the home of the Aragon Family … the home of the frost dragons as well. It was once the wealthiest … most powerful city among all places in Glacia, as the mountains in its territory were rich in gemstones, sold at expensive prices for the making of arcane runes and jewels; rings, bracelets, necklaces, earrings, and more. But it all came into ruins as the demons came out from the portal far north and brought chaos to the lands of Glacia.

The structure had partially collapsed centuries earlier, but enough remained to provide shelter from the wind. While warriors prepared defenses, Aria moved toward the edge of the cliff overlooking the darkness below. The pulse arrived again. Stronger than ever. This time it carried something additional. Memory. A sudden vision flashed through her consciousness. She saw a city unlike the one revealed by the throne. Smaller. More isolated. Built within mountains rather than open valleys. Architect banners hung from towering stone pillars while convergence energy flowed through channels carved directly into the cliffs. Wolves moved through the city carrying books, artifacts, and strange crystal

No matter how cold the weather was, he preferred being bare chested, always revealing the black to brown hairs on his chest. "I promise, someone will have to destroy you some day." The man let out a thunderous scornful laugh that echoed or several minutes after he stopped. "It's been three thousand years now, woman..." he said after everything had gone quiet, word by word and slowly accentuating "woman" with even scorn, and slowly began walking around the woman. "Oh, I'm sorry... Your Highness Sandra, hail the Excellent queen." He said, slightly bowing at the word 'your Highness.' "Who owns Arthmata now? Tell me!"

Just as how humans react strongly to mythical beings, the Mythical beings also didn't want to intrude humans live and lived in their perspective lands. In Runalia, there was a place where all humans would love to visit and that was Afgard. Other than its beauty and for being the main city of the Runalia, Afgard was best known for its slave and the black market. The patrons to the market weren't only sorcerers who searched for sacrifice, but also lustful nobles with the frightening hobby.

A warning light blinked as it passed, and the trio waited silently until it was gone. Only then did Abigail speak.“Every time I see one of those things, I wonder what it’d take to bring one down.” “One dream too many, maybe.” Tunde said, he looked up, past the quarry’s ridge.There it was again, the Citadel. White and gold, suspended like a god’s mirage behind the shimmer of protective fields. Its smooth towers glowed even through the smog. Somewhere in there, music played through perfect speakers, food was hot every night, and sickness… was curable.

Arthur felt himself being pulled into a vortex, the world around him blurring. When his vision cleared, Arthur found himself standing in a lush forest, surrounded by towering trees and the soft chirping of birds. A figure approached him. It was none other than Agatha, the last leader of the Protectors. Her piercing green eyes locked onto his, and Arthur felt the familiar tug of the mate bond. As they spent more time together, Arthur relived the memories he had forgotten. He saw their passionate nights, their laughter, and their joy. But he also witnessed Agatha's growing unease, her fear for their future, and her ultimate decision to erase his memory and send their daughter away.

Even if he were much more powerful than he was currently, it would be impossible to detect the aura had he missed it. James vanished and reappeared outside the city where he sensed Jabari’s aura. He looked ahead at the ancient-looking city. The city looked very old and was large. The city gate alone was hundreds of thousands of meters high. There were not many buildings in the city, only some majestic spiritual mountains that towered into the sky and radiated exceptionally strong energy. On the tall city gate were a few mysterious inscriptions engraved—Boundless Holy Land. The Boundless Welkin’s cornerstone was the Boundless Holy Land. Many of Boundless Welkin’s powerhouses settled around th

turned around and went back to the front door to lock it. After he made sure that their home was secure he continued to run after his sister until he was right by her side. He looked ahead of them. In the not so far of distance he could see the line where trim country grass from the Farmers Open Fields met with wilderness. Such a difference between the two pieces of land. Almost like different worlds. There was a flimsy wooden gate between the farmland and Forest that seemed to be holding the later back from oozing into their village. They had entered the forest quite a few times before and they always entered in the same place right there. Where country meets wilderness at the flimsy gate.