Cloud Strife Draw Novels & Stories

Gods. A pair of gryphons soar overhead, their bondeds laughing as they dive through the clouds. Direwolves and their humans moving in perfect sychronizon. One particulary unimpressed frost lynx lounges across a tree branch, glaring down at everyone beneath it like they are personally offending its existence. Further in the distance, Ironclad dragons train with their bondeds, bronze scales glimmering beneath the rising sun. Terrifying, but majestic. For a few silent moments, I simply watch. Because despite all else, I still love them. I always have, even though Aetherion Academy was not supposed to be my future.

I draw the bow slowly across the strings. The first note vibrates through the clearing like sunlight through glass. The seam answers immediately. A ripple of pale light spreads through the air before me. I layer another note over it. Then another. The melody grows slowly, carefully, weaving together the same harmony I felt earlier through the bond. The barrier brightens. And then— The air clears. Emberhold appears faintly through the shimmer. Cliffs. Storm clouds. And a single dark figure standing against the wind. My breath catches.

"The beast tide! The fierce beasts are violent. There's a sea of the fierce beasts..." "No, help! Help me!" Screams came suddenly from the clouds in front of them. Before Ding Hao and his men took action, they saw dozens of streamers rushing out from the white clouds. All of them were the Human Clan warriors. They were like birds frightened by bows, doing their best to run, with traces of clouds behind them. They rushed over and screamed in horror... Whew! Whew! Whew! In the next moment, more than a dozen crimson flames quickly rushed out from the clouds behind.

Ngisi ni Alex dito na kinaputla naman ni Noglas kaya nagsimula na namang magtawanan at mang-asar ang tropa. "Ayaw ko nga, ano ba 'yan sa dinami-daming p'wedeng i-dare ayan pa tsk." Angal niya in a cool way pero halata sa kaniyang namumutla siya at kinakabahan pero inaasar lang namin siya at hinatak patayo kaya wala na siyang nagawa kung 'di ang sumayaw.

Clara’s POV The art room smelled of turpentine and old wood, a blend that usually calmed me, wrapping me in a familiar embrace. But not today. Today, it only heightened the bitterness choking me, clouding the air as I fought to push my emotions onto the canvas. My brush trembled in my grip as I dragged thick black strokes across the canvas, each one heavier than the last, blurring into a chaotic mess that mirrored the storm inside me. My chest felt tight, my throat raw, as the frustration and anger threatened to overflow.