Eldritch Terrors Mythology Novels & Stories

“A lich and a draugr? It would explain the monstrosities all being forms of undead and it would explain the need to avoid as much light as possible. But how long has he been working on this? How many failures before this? Both rituals have a high failure rate by themselves.” “A draugr that’s a word I have not heard in ages. Correct me if I am wrong but it’s a form of revenant? How did you come to that conclusion?” Rolo came back to the table and sat down in a chair beside Dean again. “Well, I couldn’t make out this word on multiple pages. He’s written it as he was excited or something while he wrote it so it’s very hard to read. But when you said lich it made sense when I was looking at it

But alas, they have died out a victim of their own powers, every species hunting them down, to gain the powers in their blood in The hope they too would be able to become lords of creation. What he spoke he in his heart he thought everything he said was the truth but if it was I had a Phoenix in my room last night and I kissed him. I know I didn’t dream it. Truly what is going on. “We need to see Leonids and Lindy, where are they?” I say quickly desperate to get some answers, why did no-one know of Idris, he had mentioned he didn’t want anyone to see him at dinner last night, is that why, because for more years then I can count everyone thought they were extinct.

Mysteria, the magical world of supernatural’s, a realm with the tallest mountains, luscious forests, and precipitous waterfalls. From werewolves and witches to orcs, this enchanted land is the birthplace of imagination. The mystical beings were all made by many different Deities, including those of Selene, Cerridwen, Ogrun, and Valkrim. They fashioned new life forms in their own image to coexist in the realm of Mysteria.

Drake says. “Does it say how you will change the world, bringing the broken factions together?” I ask. He frowns at me. “Did you read it?” “No, I didn’t have to. It’s what you’re doing.” After the first night, the tension goes away and over the next week, we meet GoldMoon, the Ceryneian Hind from Greek mythology, the techrechauns, the trolls, and finally, we got to meet Lucero, the unicorn.

"She lived through it Di. She got through and survived, just like you." "How could they try to sacrifice a child to a god that may not exist?" "What god? You mean the moon goddess?" "No...Lycrith, god of the Lycans, or god of Darkness to others... The cult tricked my grandfather in believing it was her, but it was never her, it was Lycrith that they worshipped. They believed that one day Lycans will return back from extinction, ruling over wolves and humanity alike. " I looked down to the rabbit and stroked my hand across its soft head one last time before gently placing it on the ground.

“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?”

We pored over crumbling pages filled with cryptic symbols and forgotten languages, our hope a fragile flame flickering in the encroaching darkness. Elijah, his scholarly fervor now tinged with a desperate urgency, tirelessly translated passages, his fingers tracing faded inscriptions under the dim lamplight. He spoke of ancient rituals, of forgotten lore, of desperate measures taken by Thorne lineage members in the face of similar threats. Many of the accounts ended in tragedy, serving as grim reminders of the power and ruthlessness of the malevolent entity.

He raised his staff, and the air thickened with the stench of decay. Roots, black and thorned, erupted from the ground, wrapping around their legs, yanking them down. Lydia shouted, throwing a blast of light toward the staff. It struck true, splintering the weapon. The Herald hissed but did not fall. "You think light will save you?" he snarled. "Light is a lie." He raised his hands again, and this time, the sarcophagus cracked open. A scream, not of this world, tore through the chamber, a scream that melted stone and turned blood to ice. Something was awakening. Mitchell stirred, eyes fluttering open. She saw it, the shape rising from the coffin. Wings of smoke. Eyes like burning pits.

I pressed the blade of my knife to the flesh connecting her ear to her head. “Make no mistake, Lilith. Lying to me will only worsen your situation,” I spat, and she nodded, trembling with fear. “Talk.” She swallowed hard, lowering her gaze to the floor. “It’s a mythical creature that was created from both celestial magic and darkness. Due to its terrifying bloodlust, it was sealed in oblivion by the goddess of light.” She bit her lower lip, shifting slightly. “It awakens every eclipse to possess the body of its vessel.”

The warriors tightened their grips on their weapons, muscles coiled like springs. From the shadows stepped a figure — gaunt, cloaked in tattered leather, eyes wild yet clear. “I am the scout you seek,” the figure said hoarsely, voice trembling with fatigue and fear. “The enemy grows stronger. They are not merely men or beasts… but something far older and darker.” Elara’s breath caught as the scout recounted a tale of a hidden force, ancient and malevolent, rising beneath the surface of their lands — a force that thrived on their division, feeding on despair and chaos.