Eorzean Script Novels & Stories

As the ashes on the floor began to rearrange themselves, Ryan, Beck, and Josh watched in awe and disbelief. The letters formed a font that seemed to glow with an otherworldly light, as if imbued with ancient magic. The letters were sharp and angular, with intricate curves and loops that seemed to flow like a river of silver. Each character was etched in a delicate script, with lines so thin they were almost imperceptible. The font seemed to be alive, pulsing with an energy that emanated from the very heart of the script.

Its cover was worn smooth at the edges, the dark surface marked with a faded crescent burned into the center. “This is not the first time a bond has been rejected for ambition,” Sella said. “Only the first time in many years that the Goddess may have answered back.” Elara’s fingers tightened around the cup. Darius’s gaze moved to Sella. “Show her.” Sella opened the book on the low table between the chairs. The pages were yellowed, the writing inside narrow and careful, with small symbols drawn beside certain passages. Elara leaned forward despite herself. She did not fully recognize the script. Some words were familiar, old ritual language used in ceremonies, but others were stranger, older,

The drawings caught my attention and made my heart race. There were drawings of a crescent moon with small dots around it. The Moon Mark. Many versions drawn in thin black ink, they looked exactly like the symbol on my back. I had to look closer to be sure. I moved the dusting cloth slowly over the desk edge, pretending to clean. My eyes scanned the pages quickly while I dusted. The text was in a language I couldn’t read. It wasn’t common human speech or the modern Lycan tongue. It was an older, ancient beast script.

A dull red glow sparked beneath her soles, faint at first…then spreading outward in a web of luminescent veins. The Oak Tree trembled. Not violently—not yet. But it felt her. Eloria lifted her gaze to the great trunk. Wrapped around it was a marking burned long ago into its bark. A crescent intertwined with wolf’s runes and sigils from the Old Language. The same mark that now burned on Rhea’s collarbone. A perfect match. Her lips curved. “You wear my invitation beautifully, little Crimson,” she whispered into the forest, though Rhea was miles away. Then Eloria stepped forward and pressed both palms flat to the bark of the Oak.

It was the most awkward ninety minutes of my life. Until it wasn’t. I was elbow-deep in a particularly tricky passage from an old Bloodline ledger that had come down from the Runebound archives when the script started to curl in on itself. The ink shimmered under my fingertips, the glyphs more shape than language. I cursed quietly and rubbed at my eyes. “What the hell…” Ronan glanced up. “You okay?” I paused. “Old. Runebound origin, but older than anything I’ve ever seen. I can’t make out the base structure. It’s layered.”

he asked, pulling over a weathered page from an older document. Lunus took a longer time to examine it, but eventually, she began to read. "Sarmis katusen elkamire elophate bensen katoma diem elophaz hendrereden elogenizem." "Which means..." Evan said, inviting her to go on and translate the words of the ancient script. "Those escaping the catastrophe of Elkshire's fate blessed the tombs of God's endeavor in the garden of deceivers," she thoughtfully expressed, taking her time to work through the words and their accumulative meaning.

But sometimes it seemed like he was not telling us something like there was more to him like I was fucking missing something. “Also, I have seen this before,” Avo said, pointing at the six-line inscription below the drawing of that locket. “These symbols, I recognize some of them. Most of the spells written in the old days used this script.”. “What the fuck does it say?” I asked. “It’s a very old tongue, like a millennia-old maybe, or even older, it is definitely BC. I can not read the whole thing, just a couple of words really.”

Willow informed her. "That is strange indeed. The text is a mix of letters between a few languages. Ancient Greek, Ancient Ogham and... Ancient Egyptian. Each letter and symbol is from a different text, so deciphering it won't be an easy task." Miss J told her before putting the book back into the box. "Have you seen something like that before?" Willow asked her as the box shook for a moment, the book disappearing and a new image took its place.

"What the modern texts leave out, because the full implications were considered to destabilizing for general publication, is the true extent of what a Triune Anchor really is." Zena had gone very still. "You told me that I wasn't an Omega," she said. "That I never was." "That's true. But it's not enough." I reached into the inside pocket of my jacket. I'd been carrying the copied page around with me for three weeks, precisely folded in anticipation of this moment. I laid it on the floor between them. Zena picked it up. I watched her read it. The ancient script was complicated and the language was a little dated and dense but the gist of it was really straightforward.

"You just got here. How the hell did you find it that fast?" "Exactly why you need me," she said smugly, handing me the book. She was proud of herself. And for the first time in a while, I realized how much I’d missed seeing that look on her face. We all gathered around, flipping through the fragile pages. The text was written in an unfamiliar script, but beside it was something unmistakable—the Mark of the Septarch. "What language is this?" Lena asked, running a finger over the strange symbols. "Akkadian," George answered. "An ancient Semitic language."