Elves Mirkwood Novels & Stories

Kirou was currently online and rushing through the treetops of Elderwood Forest. After his "research" on the guild operations and their relationships, Kirou spent some time looking over a few details for Immortal Era from its website. One of those details happened to be the 'World Map'.

The moon had barely sunk beneath the horizon when Derek stood at the edge of the forest, the air damp with fog and tension. The witch's map burned softly in his hand, the ink glowing like veins of molten gold as it shifted and twitched, revealing the route through the Darkwood. This wasn’t any ordinary forest. The trees here didn’t whisper like normal woods—they growled, creaked with malice, and breathed like something alive.

Jason mutters worryingly. "No. It's an illusion. Once again, don't let yourself be fooled by most of the things you see or hear in this place filled with dark magic." Elowen advises like she did before we traveled to Lady Arianrhod's castle. We plunge into the Whispering Woods, the trees looming overhead like silent sentinels. The forest floor is a carpet of fallen leaves, muffling our footsteps as we move swiftly through the shadows. Eden walks between Jason and me, his small hand gripping mine tightly. The scepter in his other hand pulses with an eerie blue light, casting strange shadows that dance across the gnarled trunks around us.

Eric said; his tone dark and gloomy. I swallowed the lump in my throat as I stared between Eric and Mirage. “You are the only one who can get into the kingdom and speak to the King. The King also holds something dear to the coven that we need back. You are the only one who can get close enough to him to retrieve our item.” “What item?” I asked skeptically. “A spell book,” Mirage answered. “It belonged to your mother. It is a powerful spell book. It can only be used by Enigma wolves.”

Mira laughed again making everyone look at her. “Oh, well my boy… No, he isn't.” Mira immediately pushed Myrna hard, causing her to immediately fall to the ground. Lilly and Bubble take this opportunity to run towards Myrna. Meanwhile Mira and Nero, also Draco, Largo, and Oscar, who had now arrived there, stared at each other. “Myrna!” Lilly whispered. “The portal, Elden Wood, Now!” Myrna, whose neck was bleeding a little because of the knife, nodded and immediately sat cross-legged, preparing herself for her spells. Meanwhile, Bubble protected the two of them from the sight of the Lycans and a witch who were about to attack each other.

Lorcan eyed the elflord warily. The Elven horses galloped swiftly over the lush green ground, through clear, refreshing streams and weaved between the ancient trees of lore. Niamh did not remember such beauty the last time she traveled to the silent mountains. She fought the confused emotions rolling like a storm in her heart, until they reached the foot of the path leading up to the temple in the Emenasari Mountains. The impressive temple could be seen from where the company entered the pass, and there seemed to be only one path to get there.

"His name shocked Eryndor 'How has the tree come to know my name?' As he was still regaining his consciousness, Eryndor blurted out: 'Who's there?" Youngling's young greenish leaves trembled, releasing a faint and smothe rustle, as Elderwood's gentle voice enveloped her. 'Eryndor will save me, won't he?' she whispered, her delicate petals unfolding like tiny hands clasped in prayers. A tender shoot of hope sprouted within her, its tender tip reaching for the warmth of promise. Her roots deepened, clinging to the earth, as if unwilling to let go. "May I live long!"

wrongness. "There," she whispered. "It's not on the beach. The true Darius—he's not even fighting." The realization hit them simultaneously. While everyone fought the duplicates, the real threat was elsewhere, drawing power from their distraction. Miranda began gathering specific artifacts—a crystal that seemed to pulse with moonlight, a dagger with runes etched along its blade, a small vial of what looked like liquid darkness. "We'll need these," she said. "Weapons that exist between states, just like a Mystic."

With that, Emereah's gaze frozen, her body coiling in wait for what was to come. The wind wailed its mournful melody through the trees, its ghostly cry a warning knell, and yet she did not move. At her side, Vladimir's white-knuckled clenched grip on his sword whitened, his eyes bulging with increasing comprehension of the storm that came. The air chilled, the trees themselves distorting as Morgane's hunger leaked out, a black corruption spreading down channels of land and tree.

“Realm travel checklist. One. Boots. Two. Gloves. Three. Emotional resilience.” Lucian read his list and screamed. “Why do I need emotional resilience? What is going to happen to me.” “Probably something dramatic,” Elara replied. The spark zipped across the room, poking bags and sniffing anything that jingled. It stopped at a pile of rope and curled its legs around it like a dragon claiming treasure. Marek pointed at it. “Do not let the spark near supplies.” The spark glowed brighter in defiance. I pressed a hand to my chest. The tug from the High Realm increased again, sharp enough to make me wince. The frost patterns along the windows curled inward like they were following me.