Garlan Tyrell Novels & Stories

Darryl had run into them the first time he had entered the Godly Secret Realm, and had used his identity as Heaven Watcher to tame the beasts. Just then, the sight of them made Darryl's initial panic disappear in the blink of an eye. Ha ha… These Garans sure came in time. He was not going to have to worry about Martin's ministrations now. "Awoo…" Just then, another Garan lumbered into the hall. This Garan was almost twice as big as the ones around it. It was the Garans' leaders, Garan king. Martin could not help but gulp at the sight of Garan King, panic quickly flooding his chest.

He clears his throat and responds calmly. “Technically, the blood in my veins and arteries is that of a Tyrell, but I wish it wasn't. Anyway, I can't change reality. Regardless, I am not a Tyrell but a Collymore. My mom, Lena Collymore, Dad, Steven Collymore, and Grandfather, Jason Collymore, who share a similar name with Mr. Anderson, are the only recognized family members I have. That's why my Name is Darlington Collymore, or Darls for short. Yeah, I know, I'm a darling; you can call me that.”

Why was it that they were soundly defeated by Tyr? A drop of cold sweat rolled down Garth’s forehead as scenes from Olympia Arena began flashing in his mind. He knew of Tyr’s abilities, but never expected him to be so strong. After taking care of the fighters, Tyr turned his attention toward Garth and slowly approached him. Nobody stood between them this time. “I am Andraste Cheever’s grandson and the third-generation heir of the Cheever family. You can’t hurt me,” said Garth, panicking as he felt the murderous intent coming from Tyr.

I would not allow this creature to intimidate me. “Forgive me, Princess, where are my manors. I am Vampire Lord Tyrell.” He sweeps me a low bow. “And you my dear, are Princess Avalon of the house St Leger.” The way he spoke was like something out of a history book. Stiff and formal. But his words rung alarm bells through me, “Vampire.” My heart raced, beating hard against my rib cage and threatening to burst forth. “You seems to know a lot about who I am “my lord", perhaps you could enlighten me as to why you have come so far to find me.” My grip tightened on my hilt.

In that moment, standing on the dusty stairwell of the old school, Elaine realized her dream of becoming a Knight of Artharia was dead. Swallowing the knot in her throat, she pulled herself together and stepped out of the stairwell into the hall. To Elle, crying was done only in the worst of moments, when the fight was gone, and a person found themselves in the shadows of their own destruction, all alone. It was no surprise that she couldn’t stand Leana; Elaine didn’t know how to sort out feelings, let alone be consumed by them.

His throat worked as he swallowed hard. “I… I don’t know,” he muttered. “You’re talking about murder, Father.” Really Caleb? You still care about her? To think Agatha is your mother! Jon smiled faintly. “I’m talking about restoration.” I leaned forward.. “Think about it, darling. Delilah lives—your mother dies. Delilah dies—your empire rises again. Isn’t that poetic?” He shot me a glare but didn’t answer. Jon stepped closer, resting a heavy hand on his son’s shoulder. “You’ve already fallen too far, Caleb. This is your chance to reclaim everything. Don’t let sentimentality ruin you again.”

The russet-eyed guy huffed and crossed his arms, his gaze pinned on Delaney as we sat beside Morris, removing the hoods of our cloaks. "Anyhow, this one with me is Cyan Belladonna, Sir Killian's daughter." Morris put a hand over my shoulder, plastering a smile on her face, and motioned at the russet-eyed guy. "And this gentleman is—" "Zyrak Ovale, third year, one of the Pillars, known as the Gale Knight," He said, his voice dripping with pride, and extended his hand across the center table between us. "Nice to meet you, Belladonna."

Even the powers that Rena had inherited were only powers that Phinalona Taroc had been born with. The Taroc siblings were very well known in all of the Seven Realms. King Gareth, their father had ruled over the Southern Elven Realm for nearly three millenia. While a good chunk of Gareth's long reign had been peace filled, after the queen's mysterious death fifty years prior had only left Gareth cold and ruthless. He chose to let his subjects suffer as he suffered, losing the woman he loved had forever changed his persona.

Seren said. "I've been working up to it." Nora closed the door and stayed near it not because she needed the exit, but because she wanted the distance of the room between them for this conversation. "You've been advising the Vael bloodline for three centuries. You've watched Lysander for most of that time." "For all of it," Seren said. "He was born into the court I was already serving." "Then tell me what he actually wants." She held Seren's gaze. "Not the throne. Everyone knows about the throne. I mean underneath that what he wants that the throne is supposed to give him."

Karly glanced sideways at Woody and confidently declared, "As long as I'm backing you, no one would dare to mess with you! "I refuse to believe it. In front of so many people, he wouldn't dare kill you unless he's also lost his will to live." Before he could finish speaking, Woody extended a finger and pointed at Tyrell. "No..." Tyrell was shocked and utterly terrified, letting out a cry of despair. It was already late! Boom! Tyrell's head exploded like a watermelon. The shattered pieces of brain, along with bright red blood, burst and splattered all around. Karly was standing nearby and got splashed all over her face and body!