Garlan Tyrell Novels & Stories

“We might get an extra week or two before… Whilst those men and women did not deserve to die, I am grateful for the extra time.” Thaelen considered Johil as they strolled back up the sand. “You do not expect to live,” he realized, his heart twisting in his chest. He needed to separate his emotions, he knew, and remember that whilst Johil had become a friend and lover, it was a thin veneer over his true title: enemy. Their friendship and relationship was based on a vital untruth – that Thaelen was Tayen Gallan, a fisherman from Alden and not Thaelen Gulgane, king of Concordia. “We are spearmen,” Johil replied with grim resignation. “It is something you should also reconcile yourself to, Tayen

“Mom asked me to buy fig and Elyrian fruit tart before I go home. Bye, you two. I will see you later.“I said to them, and they both gave me a look before they shrugged and walked away. Now, for the second part of the game... I grabbed my phone. It was all coming together nicely. Soon... “Arax? It is Tyrell.” “What are you calling me for? We know your new alliance with the Royal family, you ass-licking, brown nosers. You- those fucking Firestorms killed my sister. All of them, and they would pay for it. I would make sure-” I cut his tired off. I had no time to listen to his fucking monologue.

"No. Of course not. I didn’t kill him. Why would I do that?" "Okay... then how did he die? He was perfectly fine when I brought him here. He wasn't sick or anything." "He fell onto my sword repeatedly until his head came off." Calix stared at me in silence. His jaw tightened as he looked away, then back at me, like he was trying to decide whether it was worth arguing with me again. Whatever he saw on my face must have answered that question for him. "By the Moon." He let out a slow breath. "That's thirteen, Killian. Thirteen healers in fifteen days. There are only so many physicians in the kingdom willing to set foot in this palace and you've already killed every single one stupid enough to

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.

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."

"He knows more about what moves through this island than most people assume. He simply never volunteers." "And Devereux." "Young. The current heir is nineteen years old. Sera Devereux. She arrived with no prior court exposure and has spent the first two weeks watching everything without engaging." He paused. "She reminds me of you at orientation. Out of nowhere, except she hasn't approached anyone." "Yet," Nora said. Something in his mouth. "Yet." She looked at her notepad. Five bloodlines, five distinct political calculations. Beneath them, the Harlow-Lysander parallel. Beneath that, the memory erasures and the underground levels and the access system built to keep certain questions from ge