Escanor Cruel Sun Novels & Stories

It was in an open circle in front of a huge tree trunk that was covered in vines shaped like hands reaching out hungrily toward them. Scar tried not to look around at the faces of the goblins gathered there, instead keeping her head high and staring straight ahead. She refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing her fear or her sadness. The gentle morning breeze carried the scent of flowers, and she breathed it in, trying to keep her heart from running out of her chest.

The wind which blew across the middle eastern desert slapped sand particles painfully against the skin and blew ferociously hot, but somewhere in the vast Arabian desert not far from the city, in the tent of Omar bin Khalid bin Aaban, the wind outside was like a cool winter breeze compared to the tension that stretched thin within and fanned a burning heat which was slowly developing. He stood tall a little distance away from his father who sat on a soft cushioned pillow, legs crossed and eyes closed, anger evident on his old wrinkled face. Omar was being impossible.

CAMILE The elevator doors trembled under the force of that intruding hand, the metal groaning as if protesting the interruption. My breath caught, and I pressed back against the wall, the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat flushing my skin. The man, Arlo's spitting image, yet twisted into something sharper, more dangerous, stood just beyond the threshold, his fingers gripping the edge like claws. But he didn't step in right away. Instead, his gaze locked onto mine, those stormy eyes narrowing as they roamed over my face, down my body, and back up again. It was a slow, deliberate scan, like he was peeling away layers I didn't even know I had.

Gasps rippled through the crowd as everyone stopped to watch. Nathan groaned, clutching his face as he tried to push himself up. There was blood dripping from his lower lip. Coral stood frozen, her face drained of color. Favian looked down at Nathan, his expression cold and unyielding. “Be rude to her again,” Favian growled, “and you won’t be getting back up.”

It’s Sunday, I shouldn’t be up so early, but the view from the window had me sitting up from the bed without a second thought. The room faces East, so it had a perfect view of the sunrise along the horizon. The sky turned shades of orange and yellow, fading into a bright blue after several minutes. Aurora. Dawn. The view I have right now is what my name means – the color of the sky before the sun rises. Should I leave here before anyone gets up? I could leave a thank you note for them on the counter or something? Sneaking out of the room as quietly as possible with my heels in hand, I walked down the hallway only two steps before I saw Kiran on the couch a distance away from me, sitting up a

Elara Vance The world was a chaotic blur of orange and black. Sun-Fire, a Southern alchemical terror was raining down on the basalt walls. It didn't just burn; it clung to the stone, hissed against the snow, and turned the air into a lung searing mist.

Every word I speak is powerful, drowning out the shrieks of the menacing crawlers. “Por el abrazo ardiente del sol, el poderoso velo de la luna, la luz celestial de las estrellas y el corazón de la tierra; Yo, Enrique Ignacio Escarra, el último de mi linaje, invoco el poder que se me atribuye como legítimo heredero del título sagrado. ¡Que estas ataduras se quiebren, los grilletes se rompan y que surjan las energías desatadas!” My eyes blaze as a blinding red fire-like aura spreads from beneath me, bathing the entire sky. It’s as if the air around me no longer follows the laws of gravity as I watch the crawlers incinerate. Not just making them disappear, but destroying them completely.

Scout (raising a dagger): “No. But it will stop the awakening.” He lunges. She stumbles back, slipping on the stone. Her hand scrapes along a jagged edge—blood blooms. Her crimson streaks spiral into the water. Ceres (gritting teeth): "Stop—!" Suddenly, the entire spring flares red. Steam hisses. Boiling bubbles rise. The scout falters—then screams as the water surges like molten lava. His armor glows. His skin peels. Within seconds, he's ash.

​The strike team emerged from the subterranean darkness like survivors of a shipwreck. Marcus was supporting Sela, whose eyes were still dilated from the psychic feedback of the Feral-Reset. Around them, the skeletal remains of the Sun-Tower groaned in the wind, a thousand shards of glass vibrating with the residual hum of the dead machines.

Behind her, Orion swore under his breath, clinging with teeth and will. “Still with me?” she managed to ask. “Unfortunately,” he grunted. His knees trembled. Elia’s grip on his back tightened. “Focus,” she hissed. “If you faint, I swear I will drag you back purely to waste my herbs on you.” “Motivating,” he rasped. Scar, at the Temple’s lip, watched the horizon with narrowed eyes. He saw the red light flicker and dance through the treetops like ghost-fire. He heard distant wolves howling in confusion as their own magic hummed, unbidden.