Elden Ring: All Prayer Books Novels & Stories

Even from atop the wall, Elara could feel powerful magic radiating from it. Old magic. Ancient magic. The chest was carefully opened. Inside rested a single book. --- Gasps erupted among the nobles. The book looked older than anything most of them had ever seen. Its leather cover was cracked with age. Silver symbols decorated the binding. The moment Elara looked at it, something inside her stirred. Recognition. Not conscious recognition. Something deeper. Something instinctive. The Alpha lifted the book carefully. "This is the Chronicle of Luna." Even Lucien's eyes narrowed.

Row after row of ledgers detailing the construction of the palace, the armory, and the "Alchemical Enhancements." I pulled a black ledger from the shelf. Project: Aethelred’s Bind. My breath hitched. I flipped the pages. Diagrams of the throat. Sketches of the sapphire. Calculations of pulse rates and blood pressure. "The Loyalty Pearl," I whispered. The ink was faded, but the name at the bottom of the page was clear. Matthew Collins. Master Alchemist. Prisoner 902. "You won't find him in the books." I turned. Elara stood at the end of the aisle. She wasn't carrying a tray. She was carrying a heavy iron key. Her face was smudged with soot from the fire in the Gallery.

They were all set and ready to depart when Elara came out with a necklace in her hands. “Hazel dear, please come forward,” she called after the happy hazel. Hazel stopped pacing and walked towards the priestess who was in a flowing white gown, she never wore any other colour than white. “Yes, priestess Elara,” hazel replied. Elara raised her hands showing hazel the necklace which sparkled, it had the image on Hazel's wrist, a crowned wolf on fire. “You will have this and wear it always, it will guide you and protect you also.”

“And if she’s using physical conduits, there must be texts that describe counter-rituals. The old priests wrote about spiritual cleansing. Possession-breaking.” “Possession?” The word burned in my throat. Lira nodded slowly. “That’s what this is, Damon. The first thread of it.” Rayna exhaled, steady but cold. “Then we find the thread and cut it before she weaves the rest.” “Somewhere in this library,” Lira said, scanning the endless shelves, “there’s a volume called ‘Divine Inversions.’ It’s one of the oldest texts on corrupted bindings. Half myth, half manual. I haven’t read it yet; the last archivist sealed it after the war of the twin gods. Thanks to Wendrah we have it here. But if the se

“The Temple is free of dark control now, and that is all that matters, Sister.” “Thank you,” Reliquin says quietly. We step inside, and other Priestesses in robes that are in no better shape than Reliquin’s rush forward with a giant tome and the traditional coronation items. Lyra and I step up toward the altar, and Freyja stays behind near the pews, kneeling. Reliquin holds the book and makes quick work of a chant in Goslevaere, the ancient language of the Moon Goddess, and summons the other Priestesses forward.

I hug him quickly, “I love you.” Dark energy lashed out from Volkava, striking the ground and tearing through stone, forcing Draven back before he surged forward again. He was relentless and I admired that. But I could see the solution—my gaze snapped to the book on the slab. It laid there—just like it was watching. Then, I ran. “Elara—!” Draven shouted and Volkava hit him so hard he dropped to one knee but I didn’t stop because I finally understood why it existed. Why the book of Ancient spells existed.

“You come back. No matter what. Promise me.” Silas throws his arms around Ryland’s neck. “We promise.” The Priestess raises her hands. The cliff face shimmers, revealing a hidden passage veiled in mist. “The journey will test your bond. Hold fast to each other.” I clutch the twins tighter, but Selene pulls free, her small face determined. “We can do this.” Silas takes her hand. Their combined light flares, pushing back the lingering shadows. Lira presses a pouch into my palm—herbs and ancient runestones. “For their return,” she murmurs.

Elara sat across from them, her knees drawn to her chest, her violet eyes flicking constantly to the trees as if expecting them to split open and reveal some horror from the Veil. “We don’t have much time,” Lyra said, emerging from the tent with the Prophetess's book cradled in her arms. The ancient tome was bound in leather that looked far too new for its age, pulsing faintly with heat. She handed it to Aria, her expression carved in stone.

“Open it.” “Are you sure?” “Why wouldn’t I be sure, Kel?” I shook off my awkward feelings and slowly untied the red bow and opened the small white box. Inside was a silver bracelet with three charms. I grabbed out slowly with Rogan watching my every move. The charms were a small silver wolf, a red moon in the middle, and a darker black metal wolf on the other side. I took each little charm and examined each one marveling at the small attention to detail. “Do you like it?”

Fuck! “My name is Kellina and I am the Crimson Priestess.”