El Silbon Legend Novels & Stories

“You reek of his blood, still. After all these years. You are nothing but a ventriloquist doll to him. Did you even know that, child?” Her lip curled in a silent snarl, but Claire would not give the woman the satisfaction. “If you speak of the sire bond, I am well aware of it. I believe that I would know of it better than you. Surely, you know that I know when I am being bound by it, and that it cannot force words from my mouth? I see no reason why I am not to be trusted with my own words.”

"There is a thing called a Memory Stone, and it can be used to weave a story that feels more real than the truth, so if you're confused, you should be asking the old man in the big house instead of blaming me for your own blindness." "So he lied to both of us, and he made us hate each other so we wouldn't look for the truth?" I asked, and I felt a surge of rage that was so powerful I could feel the black veins starting to itch under my skin again. "Silas is a man who loves power more than he loves his own blood, and he knew that if you and Theron stayed together, you would be too strong for him to control," the witch explained, while she walked over to a shelf and pulled down a small mirror.

A pulse of light ran through the symbols closest to my body like ripples in water when a stone is dropped. “The stone reacts to body heat,” Silas said without looking up. Calm, casual, like explaining something expected. “It’s luminescent mineral. Common in formations this old. Nothing important.” Perfect lie. Delivered with the ease of someone who had practiced it for weeks. Alaric was twenty meters away, beside a column, speaking with Damián. I saw him turn his head when the runes lit up. Saw him hear Silas’s explanation. Saw his eyes narrow a fraction.

"You no longer have the power of the Lunar Eclipse Stone, Silas. What you bring here now is nothing but rotting darkness." Silas laughed harshly, his voice sounding like scraping rusted metal. "Maybe that stone was destroyed, Elena. But when I was buried under the rubble of that tunnel, I found something way darker in the belly of this mountain. Something even Kenji didn't realize while he was mining here." Silas slammed his demon claw into the ground. Instead of a physical attack, the hall suddenly went pitch black. Dark shadows started creeping from the walls, forming thousands of tentacles that not only sucked up light but also absorbed sound.

“You will forgive me if I don’t stand, won’t you? Anna, right?” I nod, taking a step toward him. Then I remember what Sem told me about Dr. Silas’s eyesight and add, “It was given to me at the Human orphanage. If we met before, you might have known me under another name.” “I see, I see. Will you sit, please?” I drop to his feet, cross-legged. “These halfling legends . . . Do you think they might hold some truth?” “Most stories do. Although the truths we seek are often not the ones we find. But if you’re asking whether you’re the first of your kind . . . I do not believe so, no.”

This one was wrong—too wide, too pleased, like a man watching the world burn exactly as he’d planned. “Oh, but it is,” Lucian said, stepping forward. Blood still dripped lazily from his fingers, splattering across the polished floor. “Didn’t he tell you? Didn’t your precious Rogue King explain what he really is?” Silas moved then—just a fraction—but enough to place himself fully between me and Lucian. A wall. A shield. A secret. “Stop talking, Lucian,” Silas growled, his voice low and lethal. “You don’t get to weaponize this.”

"Do you believe in this legend, Sylvian? Do you think she's safe?" Sylvian's gaze met Roberick's, his expression conflicted. "I cannot say for certain, Your Highness. Legends are often rooted in truth, but they can be embellished over time. I fear for her safety, but I pray that her heart is pure enough to protect her."

The silver legion’s front lines fractured in an instant, the flawless mechanical phalanxes dissolving into a chaotic mess of screaming men and panicking war-stallions. Silas pulled his hands from mine, his amber eyes glowing with a feral, terrifying satisfaction as he raised his broadsword high above his head. The violet light of the burning valley reflected off the dark steel. "Sentinels! Rogues of the North!" Silas’s Alpha command shook the very foundations of the mountain, a sound that made the wolves on the wall go entirely wild. "Their teeth are broken! Their fire is ours! Drop the gates and hunt them down until the snow turns red!"

If anger or fear took hold of her, the gemstone would darken, turning a deep, unsettling black. The feeling of the pendant against her skin was both grounding and empowering. The cool touch of the silver filigree and the smooth surface of the gemstone provided a tactile reminder of her connection to her heritage and the protection it offered. The runes and symbols etched into the silver felt cool against her skin, their presence reassuring her that she was protected and that her powers were being kept in check.

He didn't even look at Lady Mira as he reached into a decorative suit of armor and pulled out a massive, jagged broadsword that Elara had previously assumed was a museum piece. "Inspecting the Luna, are they?" Silas’s voice was like grinding stones. He looked down at his formal tunic and, with a grimace of annoyance, ripped the silver-embroidered sleeves off to give his sword-arm room to move. "I hope they brought their own bandages. I’m out of yellow yarn for stitches."