Godshard Chronicles Novels & Stories

Olga was an old woman who had become the pack's herbalist, it was essential to have one in a pack because, the herbs are used in the ritual to crown an Alpha which in turn the goddess turns the Alpha fur silver. Atarah dropped her basket beside Erza's basket, Olga came close to them and grabbed Atarah by the ear. "You have been avoiding me, little one. You used to come here all the time, when you were a kid, you were so interested in plants." She said with her old weary voice. "I have started school recently, so I don't have much time." Atarah lied as she pulled away from her. "Hmmmmm......You are still not a very good liar, are you?" Olga said and Erza giggled cutely.

She rocks slowly back and forth whilst working on her crochet. "Two heirs there will be. One of light and one of dark. One to tear the world asunder and the other to bring the pieces back together. The seeker must seek but be aware that all is not as it seems." her voice cries out, the ring of truth echoing through it.

Isa namang malakas na sigawan at dabog ng mga paa ang naging kasagutan ng mga libo libong mga kawal saka sila nagsimulang naglakad patungo sa Emperyo ng Shein. Matapos ang sinapit na pagkabigo ng mga Aerosmith na pabagsakin ang palasyo ng Sylverstein ay napagtanto nilang malabong babalik ito kaagad upang umataki, lalo’t alam nilang may tulong na dumating mula sa Emperyo ng Knightwalker. Kaya kampanti silang umalis lahat kasama ang kanilang mga kawal upang tumulong sa Emperyo ng Knightwalker sa kanilang planong pagpapabagsak sa Shein na walang nang ginawa kundi ang isa isahin silang itumba.

And I was going to find it. My fingers brushed against an old leather-bound journal tucked between thick volumes of pack history. I opened it, feeling the spine creak, and revealed spidery handwriting that was decades old. These pages spoke of some "Blood Moon curse" with a very unclear origin and of some kind of artifact called Owlshard.

LET THE GAME BEGIN ~GIDEON’S POV~ I stared at my phone, a slow smile spreading across my lips. Tonight would be special. A night she’d never forget. I set the phone down on the table in front of me, shifting my attention to the man sitting opposite me. Joshua, standing silently behind me, handed me the file I’d requested. I opened it without a word, flipping through each folder, and scanning page after page. My fingers brushed absently across my lips in thought.

He got hold of the only gas mask and handed it to Leia. “Dad, please save Miss Leia first, she’s not well. Mom can wait for the other firefighters.” Tears streamed down my face, and I wore a bitter smile. I raised the medicine bottle in my hand and said, "My medicine’s almost out. I won’t be able to hold out much longer in this smoke." On the exact same day seven years ago, I had suffered from severe complications during childbirth; I was on the verge of death. I had grabbed Williams’s hand and asked him to save the baby at all costs before blacking out.

The story of a woman who loved too hard, trusted too deeply, and broke into pieces… …only to sharpen every one into a weapon.

Though the thoughts about him were forefront now, because I still hadn't come to terms with what almost happened, I had to stop thinking about it now. Maybe later I would take my time to understand it. Maybe. I opened the book slowly, my fingers tracing the frayed and worn edges of the cover, "the chronicle of the six" it stood boldly in gold lettering glaring at me. The letters shimmered faintly and I quickly turned open the first page. "This is the Chronicle of the Six. The first beings born of the moon's light. This record holds their power, their dominion... and the truth before the Great Divide."

He hurled the shard; it spiraled through the chamber, trailing violet sparks. Vera felt the shard’s psychic ripple—deadly and precise. She leapt forward, chanting her Dream Sovereign song in a fierce whisper: > “By star and fang, by blood and bone, > We claim the throne you stole by stone. > Your crown of lies, now overthrown, > Falls to dust beneath the true heir’s own.” Lucien roared in unison, wolf-pulse crashing through the dais’s pylons. The shard fragmented in midair as dream-silk threads wrapped it, dissipating its charge in a shimmer of silver light.

It had been years since the great flood and the war, and the long-haired warlock adventurer thought he could make a bet and beat the wealth hidden in a nameless grove near Munster Lake, an old forgotten stronghold from that time period. In his brilliant almond-amber eyes, Shawn saw much wisdom, perceptions of splendid gold and silver, and no small amount of greatness. He had no idea what else he saw in those eyes. The old man was indeed cunning and smart and was able to persuade him into bartering his horse for his magical lighter, and he had the nerve to tell him that he was a traveler from the future and he needed Shawn to convey a message to his offspring. Whatever it was, the old man was