Novel & Cerita Eros Mythology

Many were holding pickaxes and shovels, digging at the surrounding rocks and ground while women wearing skimpy outfits with tiny black wings attached onto their backs lashed out at the men, occasionally whipping the men's already feeble bodies with the long thorny whips in their hands. "Where am I? Didn't I die? Is this hell?" [You've transmigrated into a young man's body in a parallel world called Fiore. In this world, the Gods had either all died or were captured by the demons.] A mechanical voice sounded. "Whoa, who is speaking to me?" Alex looked to his surrounding frantically, surprised by the sudden voice. [I'm the Eros God System, created by God Eros during the War of Genesis waged be

Four souls, entwined by fate's decree, A woman, three men, bound by destiny. Reborn they are, from lives before, In ancient hearts, a long-lost lore. The oracle, with eyes aglow, Her power stirs, the winds shall blow. Her vision sharp, the world she sees, The god of gods, brought to her knees. When she ascends, in strength unbound, The dark will rise from under ground. Her mates, they walk beside her flame, Their souls as one, they share her name. Through cycles lost, through time and strife,

There are seven Oracles in the Lycaon palace, but one of them was the most powerful and closest to the moon goddess as everyone believed. Her name is Cordelia. She was a popular oracle, talked about around all werewolf and Lycan packs. As we approached her shrine, goose bumps started to creep up my skin, along with a banging headache. I started to panic. Ever since the incident where Draven got shot, I haven’t had this recurring headache. I wanted to believe it was gone forever but as I started to feel the pain, fear crept in.

“You are but not cause you are hearing voices.’ "My voice is called Sif." Ingrid said. "Mine is Joro." Olivia smiled. "As in Norsk mythology?" They both nodded with smiles. "Odin's wife and Thor's wife. I'm a little concerned about mine." "What do you mean?" Ingrid asked, tilting her head to one side. "Well, in Norsk Mythology mine is the Goddess of death and ruler of Helheim." I muttered, not sure how to take this information. "Hela." Olivia smiled. "It is good to have you with us Hela, thank you for protecting our pup."

I began. That instantly captured their attention. Even Jiya looked at me curiously. "The four realms?" Abi asked. I nodded. "I’m not sure where I learned it, but maybe from books or someone told me," I said. They waited eagerly for me to continue. "These four realms honor the Moon Goddess. They are the Lycan Realm, the Vampire Realm, the Elf Realm, and the Siren Realm," I explained. The three of them listened intently. "The Moon Goddess resides in her Moonlight Sanctuary in the Celestial Realm," I added.

I left out all the Idris info to him, not knowing if my brother knows him or not. “A Phoenix Aurora? How did you know about them? No one ever speaks of them anymore since they have been extinct for so long.” He looks at me truly puzzled by what I have said. “You see a Phoenix is the Lord of all creation, before everything from the very beginning. Men invented books depicting of a “human god” the all mighty that made everything from nothing. This is not true. The Phoenix, is the most rare mythical creature to have ever lived. Noone has seen one in hundreds and thousands of years, they have the power to build life, the power of true creation. But alas, they have died out a victim of their own

Sinthy blinked and shook her head. "Sorry about that. I was being overly dramatic. It's a reliquary embrocation. Created and strengthened over hundreds of centuries. She held the jar up close to my face, "is essentially the concentrated essence of dozens of legendary magical figures throughout history. The blood of Odin, a strand of hair from Samson, a fragment of the mummified remains of the sun god Ra , " "Hold on," I interrupted. "Odin? Ra? Those… were they actually real?"

He gave me a soft smile, making me return a shy smile. “You know, in Greek mythology, Althaia was the Queen of Calydon, and a woman of fierce passion. She is celebrated in an ancient story about the fate of her son, Meleager. When he was born, the Moirai, or the Fates in English, came to foretell his future, and they predicted he would die as soon as one of the sticks in the fireplace burned out completely. When Althaia heard that, she pulled the stick from the fire, put the fire out, and hid it in a safe place.”

“I am a Herald, Orym. I see beyond the physical. I don’t need to be told to know who they are and what their cursed selves did to Panoma.” “Good,” Elder Orym whispered, his eyes heavy. He turned to the High Priest... a man who had long forgotten the order of his calling and the guidelines of his position. “Blood, they say… always comes calling,” he said. Soren’s eyes darkened. “Don’t tempt me, Orym. You know what I can do.” Orym’s wrinkled lips pressed. “I do,” he whispered calmly. “I’ve always known.” Then his head tilted toward the beaming runes. “You owe too much, High Priest… and time has a way of collecting every debt.”

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.