Game Of Thrones Book Prologue Novels & Stories

The particular book appears in front of him as HE gladly reads the title out loud. “Death Resurgence.” As the book opens and the series of the current events begin to flash and flood. HE giggles in HIS utmost amusement, as HE presented. “Well, well, well. Shall we learn the ropes of what lies within the Resurgence?” From the book that deliberately flips and presented the gist of the world that it brings, the words are written and said.

But I looked around and there was no one there . ' Is something wrong ? ' my father asked sensing my paranoia . ' Nothing . I thought I saw someone staring at me . ' I replied and turned back to my mother . ' So what does this new prophecy say ? ' my mother asked, her smile faltering . ' I will tell you on our way home . ' my father answered before I could . ' You have some things to sort out son . Go for it . ' he said then led my mother back to the pack house . I headed back to the healer's house where I was sure Arya was waiting for me . She must be so confused .

Eric grabbed me and pulled me close as the ground broke open, exposing a gulf of whirling fire and shadow. "Kyara!" he said, his voice breaking through the commotion. But before I could answer, the figure burst out laughing, harsh and victorious. "You've only delayed the inevitable," it replied, its shape floating over the chasm. "The prophecy never addressed salvation. It was about devastation. "And now it begins." The earth collapsed beneath us, and the last thing I saw was Eric's hand reaching for mine as the abyss took us whole.

Compared to me, I took fun in seeing my preys running to me and seeking for shelter. My preys always came to me, I don't hunt for them. It was the kind of feeling you get, knowing that no one would for once doubt you if you told them you haven't killed a soul. Khaleesi, my dear Khaleesi. You started the race and now, it's time for me to end it. Everything you get coming to you today is as a result of your past doings. Do not blame me, I thought to myself as I watched her back fade into the distance.

Eden stepped forward, his lean frame casting a long shadow as he approached the pedestal upon which the book rested. "Mother," he whispered, his voice barely louder than the rustle of pages as he flipped through the weathered text. His green eyes, luminous and wide with revelation, met mine. "These are the prophecies of the Moonweavers." The weight of history settled upon his young shoulders, and I could see the gears turning behind those earnest eyes, piecing together the fragments of our past and the ominous portents of our future. Before I could speak, a shiver ran down my spine-a primal warning that slithered across my skin like a serpent's cold embrace. Thorne's hand shot up, and we fro

I didn't notice Tana had left my hand until I saw her fall to her knee, her head lowered. Only then did I raise my head and saw three men sitting on what looked like thrones. The one in the middle had hair as dark as the night, the other two had golden hair and silver hair respectively. I was suddenly shoved from the back and forced into a kneeling position. I snarled furiously and glared at the person who pushed me. It was the man who came with Tana and me. The man with the dark hair was the first one to speak. “Three days ago, you were found in the woods of Thornwood borders by Lord Byron Wesley of the Shadowborn, during a Hollowborn hunt. You were brought to the Dragon Keep, where we disc

“It's a great thing I am alive to witness this prophecy and at this time a prophet of this temple.” “But?... Prophet how should I be sure that you are not just making this up and pushing responsibilities to my shoulders.” My aunt appears on my side, pulling my ear. He gently walks to me and looking at me with his soft golden eyes he stretches his hand, offering the book. “Here, take.” He doesn't leave, he stays as I open the book. The book weighed more than I imagined, beautifully coated in gold and white its fragrance was more welcoming than its beauty. “How should I open this? It's clearly locked.”

Time passed, though she could no longer measure it. Exhausted, she collapsed on the floor, unable to speak. Only then did Jack stop, leaning over her with a threat. “Alanna, I’m warning you one last time. Lewis is dead. If you want to live, obey me. “Cross me again, and you’ll be very sorry that you did!” … Disgusted by the blood on his hands, Jack locked the door and went to the bathroom to clean himself. Alanna lay sprawled across the floor, drenched in blood and utterly ruined.

"Game's on, ladies. And I'm rewriting the board." The city bled neon beyond the windows, but inside, my pulse matched its throb—strategy laced with something darker, hungrier. Kenji confessed, Harlan bled, and I countered. But his eyes haunted, obsidian promises of ruin and claim. The deal struck. The hunt is true. And in that electric void, I felt it—power shifting, not surrender, but collision. Two storms, knees bent, circling for the kill.

“Danger… like the library incident?” ‎“Exactly like last night,” he said softly, his gaze intense. “But there’s more. The prophecy doesn’t just predict power—it predicts enemies, betrayal, and choices that could cost lives. You’re not ready for all of it, but you need to understand the stakes.” ‎I reached out, trembling slightly, and opened the book. The pages were filled with intricate writing and diagrams, magical glyphs that pulsed faintly under my touch. My shadows quivered, curling protectively around the edges of the pedestal.