Eternal Reverence Novels & Stories

She did not want to give David a chance to resist. Although David was the target of this energy, the aftermath alone left the entire building in a crumbling state. Fortunately, another force appeared at this time to stabilize the situation. Only then could the building be saved from collapse. If Reva displayed all of her Eternal energy without any reservation, the palace of the Great Quinn Empire and even the entire Planet Brechen could not bear it, let alone the building she was in. One must know that Eternals had been recognized by the laws of the universe and could have a lifespan of at least one epoch.

He knew, deep in his soul, that Nora was his one true eternal love, his partner till eternity. They found themselves at the same spot in the plantation that held a special meaning for them. It was a clearing adorned with a carpet of colorful wildflowers, the same spot where Ned has made his vow to love Nora till eternity some years ago. Ned turned to face Nora, his eyes filled with adoration.

They are eternal, aren't they? In contrast with the cathedral, the Garden of Eternity floats serenely amidst the clouds, its pathways winding through celestial flowers emitting heavenly scents. And within these marvels, the sanctuaries of the divine and their offspring litter the place as beacons of tranquility. My own sanctuary, the Sanctuary of the Moon- a tribute to the Moon goddess-, is a testament to this opulence. Its walls shimmer with an inner light, adorned with tapestries woven from moonbeams.

one guard defended himself. “Now, what do we do if she decides to open her beak?” said the nun, anxiously reaching for another dry handkerchief to continue wiping the mother’s face. “She’s out of her mind. No one will believe her,” said the guard with a hint of disdain. Mother Superior began to walk around the place as she always did when she was furious and needed to think. It calmed her down and helped her relax. The windows were covered with heavy curtains that kept out the dawn light. The office was adorned with old crucifixes and dark furniture that made it all the more frightening.

The ceremony was simple, but the solemnity of the moment felt profound. "Beloved gathered here," the priestess began, her voice soft yet resonating through the field, "we stand in solemn remembrance of a brave soul who has answered the call of the eternal. Today, we honor not just a soldier, but a guardian of our realm—a heart that beat with courage and devotion. In life, he fought for justice and light, facing darkness with unwavering strength. His sacrifice echoes through our lives, a reminder of the price we pay for peace.

Fully. Forever.

Instead, it was a holy space, a chapel within him where this love resided. Love endured beyond death: in the foundation that bore their name, in the son who had found his way home, in the quiet courage he took with him into every boardroom. And it was here-in the dark, with the scent of beeswax in the air-a private, eternal flame that no scandal, no war, no amount of power could ever douse. The king turned from the window. The anniversary was observed, his vow renewed. He was still, and would always be, Joe's. -----

Each piece was accompanied by a brief inscription in flowing Latin and English, celebrating the Ember Circle’s rebirth in truth. Guests murmured in admiration: Montrose scholars, Vale dignitaries, Father Laurent in his austere cassock, and representatives from Bellford’s art and academic societies. At the room’s far end, Alexander stood beside a carved lectern draped in the Montrose and Vale banners, waiting to formally announce the Hall’s new joint patronage of ethical scholarship.

He simply reached out and took my hand, pulling me to my feet. The casual, simple warmth of his skin against mine was more overwhelming than any calculated kiss. He looked at me, his eyes gentle, no longer calculating the angle of his coup, but simply seeing me — the person who had been called Chimamanda in her nightmare. "Thank you for talking to me," he whispered, his voice low, his sincerity a dangerous, intoxicating perfume. He lowered his head and kissed me — a slow, deliberate press of lips that stole every thought I’d been holding together. This wasn’t the fierce, claiming heat he’d unleashed in the pool. This was careful… almost reverent. Like he was afraid I’d break.

Completely. Irrevocably. Forever.