Eldritch Oc Novelas e Histórias

“I smelled Drul Sorcery from that demon mage. Its scent was bitter and sour … like a rotten corpse.” Arth pulled his gaze away from the mountains and shifted his attention to his fellow riders. King of Ka’erndal? Was he a demon? And what’s with this Drul Sorcery? What did that even mean? “I’ve not smelled anything earlier,” he muttered. “She possesses sharp senses, Your Highness,” Edric explained as if he had heard Arth, then he told Ruby, “If that’s true, then Ka’erndal has made its move.”

"Mr. Veyrith!" Everyone rose from their seats. They had thought things were over for Owen, given the recent investigations. But he had kept an ace up his sleeve. Malric Veyrith was a real disciple of Mount Dracotigris. Hailed as the most likely to achieve transcendence, his gift for divination and fortune-telling was unparalleled. They said he had recently solved Janovin's flooding problems. It was extraordinary. Could someone really control the weather?

Every step echoed against the stone walls, each echo a drumbeat marking the approach of something ancient, cruel, and foolish. Maldric crouched ahead, dark as the soil beneath us, his claws dripping shadow and ichor, body trembling. Weak. Too weak. I could feel the tremors in the air, the wavering pulse of his magic struggling to hold form. He knew it too, which is why his eyes, those luminescent, demonic orbs, were fixed on me with a mixture of hate and terrified anticipation. “You shouldn’t have come,” he hissed, voice cracked like old leather. “You—this little girl—”

Then a smile creeps across his face, one of those devastating, dimpled smiles that could ruin a woman’s life. “You’re Charlotte. Pretty sure you knew that.” Smug bastard. “You know exactly what I mean, Damon,” I snap at him. The smile fades slowly and darkly. He leans back, arms folding over his broad chest like a wall. “You’re Druiss.” A shiver trickles down my spine. That name again. “Okay… and what’s a Druiss?” “A Druiss is a Dreil.” I groan. “And what’s a Dreil?”

I commanded, and my voice carried the authority of a mother defending her young. Light tore through him from within, radiating outward in rays that pierced the gray waste and brought color blessed, beautiful color to a realm that had forgotten what it looked like. Aldric collapsed inward like a dying star, his form compressing and folding and finally vanishing into a singularity that pulled itself into the abyss he had once commanded. His final scream echoed through the realm of death.

“My father used to rap me over the knuckles if I didn’t write neatly.” A melancholy smile plays over my mate’s lips as he reaches for my notepad and pen. He compares my inept translations to his own. “These are recipes for potions that kill various creatures. Vampires, nymphs, werewolves, Lycans-” he looks up at me – “this word-” he points to something that I couldn’t find in any of the dictionaries I’ve tried -“doesn’t translate as demon, it translates to she-dragon.” “What? Seriously? There were dragons?”

I see the way he touches her, the way he looks at her. I feel a hand on my shoulder. "Silvia," says Darius, his voice so low I have to lean toward him to hear, "All is not over. Trust the Goddess." Then he straightens, becomes a more imposing figure. Darius the Magician? His imposing silence draws everyone's attention. "I am Darius Eldritch," he says. "Introduce yourself unknown werewolf."

The room filled with a blinding light, and I shielded my eyes. When the glow subsided, I blinked, staring at the pages before we held open in Uncle Lucifer’s hands. The pages were filled with symbols, diagrams, and cryptic text. Millie stepped closer, as I stayed close to her. “What does the book say?” she asked looking at the large leather book. Lucifer’s eyes glowed with an otherworldly purple light as he read aloud: “The Cult of Draconis Cor.” Uncle Lucifer said in a low rumbling growl.

Lilith exhaled, her shoulders relaxing as her mind ease, she shared her memories of today with Ethel. "Wow," Ethel said as the memory of him fingering her appeared. Soon Ethel found the right memory, "Hontiamos relavesia." She whispered in Purtaliamas Darci's realm's language, each realm had its own language and culture, Darci was a Purtalian. The wind went through their hair as she did the spell whispers were heard suddenly Ethel lets go of her hand. "So is he telling the truth?" Lilith asked, knowing he was. "No."

And I didn’t waver my gaze away…not even once. His face remained blank, and his voice sounded heavy as he said, “Maddox Velric Thorne. I’ve heard things about you.” his head slightly tilted to the side, “Not the good ones though.” The corner of my mouth lifted into a smirk, “Well, I’m not surprised.” His gaze lingered on me a bit longer before it swept to Eldric, “What brings you here, Eldric Fenrow?” Caleb opened our mindlink, ‘Dude, what’s wrong with these warlocks. No greetings, no warm welcomes…?’