Erza And Mirajane Novels & Stories

“Jack, get her dry. I’ll try talking to the detective in- charge.” “Noted sir. But please try not to make them mad again.” another familiar voice. Auria then wiped her vision clean and finally saw some features, then a whole face. A familiar blue eyes, and a blonde hair. Those glasses also. ‘Have I seen him before somewhere?’ Auria tilted her head, trying to remember. ‘Right, it was him and that guy.’

Mira smiled back at her husband and said, "As long as I am with you, I will be fine. Come, let us get dressed and go downstairs. After breakfast, everyone will be here and gather for the reading. After getting dressed, the left the room. Tine stopped and smiled down at Mira and reached for her hand. Smiling back up at him, she placed her hand in his and they went down to breakfast. Tine cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. All gathered stopped talking and turned to see Tine and MIra take their place on the stage that had been set up by workers the day before. On the stage with them was her mother, as head of the Lorkeepers, the Clutch Elder, Tomas, the priest, the Eastern Emperor,

“Y-you…!” Ana grinned and let out a sigh, her appetite diminishing even further. “Well, allow me to introduce myself,” Ana said, extending her hand towards them and gently removing the mask that concealed her face. “I am Ana Mystica, and I’ve returned.” Mateo's and Chloe's eyes widened in disbelief as they stared at the figure standing before them. It was the person they believed to be long gone, the person they thought was dead. “N-no way… I-It can’t be…”

"Is that you, Brandur?" It was Erik. The man was even braver than he had given him credit for. To approach an enormous wolf, especially one who you thought might be a magickal creature was on a different level. Brand tipped his snout, then shifted. Erik's eyes shot wide, but he didn't waver. Brand held out a blood-soaked arm. He didn't think any of it was his. The warrior gripped it without hesitation. "Thank you, my friend," Brand said. "You saved my mate and myself today. I will always be in your debt." "You are not saved yet," Erik answered, glancing over Brand's shoulder. "Magnus and the last of his men are on the move."

They stripped her of her title. Branded her a traitor. Left her to rot in the forbidden lands. But Mira Wyrmblood didn't die. She rose. From the ashes of betrayal and exile, she built an empire. Now known to the world as The Cyber Empress, she’s no longer the discarded Luna, she’s the woman who owns the game board they once played her on. And she’s not done. When Mira steps into a high-profile gala three years later, all eyes are on her, including his. “Yo—you look like my ex-wife,” “No,” she smirks, brushing past him, “I look like the ghost of your greatest regret.” But just as she reclaims her power, fate throws her another twist. Not one

T‌his feels like the end of a l‌ong sickness⁠. Zara entered the ro‍om⁠. She looked at the wreckage‌. She looked at th​e bodies of the silver un‌its. She looked at Miri.‍ She did not sa‌y a word. She walk⁠ed t​o Rian. She handed him a‌ cante‌en.

Her eyes widened slightly at the sight before her. Kael kneeling beside Elian. Hand resting carefully against his stomach. Both looking strangely emotional. The atmosphere felt almost sacred. Mira immediately looked away respectfully. “…I can come back later.” “No,” Elian said quickly, cheeks warming faintly. “It’s fine.” Mira nodded softly before entering fully. But as she approached— She accidentally glanced toward the mirror. And nearly froze again. Because this time— Elian’s reflection wasn’t copying him at all. The real Elian sat calmly beside Kael.

Their hand lifted. War erupted. Arrows screamed across the battlefield, slicing through snow and air. Steel clashed with steel in violent sparks, echoing over frozen ruins. Magic surged as Eira’s wards strained against coordinated attacks. Lines of pale energy flickered under relentless assault, cracks of light appearing as enemy mages pushed forward. Kael moved on instinct, intercepting attackers pressing toward Lyra. These enemies fought differently faster, coordinated in small units designed to isolate targets. Mira’s blades sang, cutting down two opponents in a flash. “They learned from last time!” she shouted, voice raw with determination.

She did not look like a ruler born to the title—too young, too fierce, and too tired—but none in the chamber dared mistake her for anything less than sovereign. “Let them through,” she told the guards at the central archway. The doors opened, and the first of the mirror-versions entered. They came in pairs—a mirror captain from the Eastern Watch, his armor etched with strange constellations; a mirror healer whose eyes reflected silver instead of green; a mirror councilor who bowed to no one. The crowd murmured, taking in the subtle differences, the slight wrongness. Zara stood at Elira’s right, her gaze locked on the approaching figures. Then her breath caught.