Gormenghast Illustrated Trilogy Novels & Stories

Most of the pages in the front were smudged too terribly to read anything but once it became legible, I started to shake with happiness. It was a story book! Eagerly I began reading the first story that wasn't destroyed. MY mouth dropped open in wonder at this finding. It was a shadow elf storybook, and a very old one. Page after page I flipped through the words absorbing every word that I could. The stories were full of ghastly creatures similar to the ghoulcat and the heroes of ancient Gwathendor who fought them. And their lady loves that they saved along the way. Soon enough I was hunched over the bed with the little book in my lap and my head in the clouds.

He could feel it too. Without a word, Raymond's father lunged forward and the two of them raced through the forest, desperately trying to find Rafe. The pain in Raymond's chest grew stronger the closer they got to Rafe. When they finally reached Mr Jones Vones' mansion, Raymond and his father were on top alert. They turned into their wolf's form and tried to break down the door but it would not bulge, it was made of solid metal. This frightened them.

Mason and Madison, sensing my excitement, looked up at me curiously, their innocent eyes wide with wonder. Matthias approached us with open arms, enveloping me in a warm and comforting embrace. It felt like a reunion of souls, a connection that transcended time and distance. As he released me from his embrace, his gaze shifted to the two curious faces beside me—my precious twins. "Jessica, it's been too long," he said with a touch of nostalgia in his voice. "And these must be the little miracles I've heard so much about." Matthias's eyes twinkled as he looked at Mason and Madison, his expression a mix of fondness and delight.

Harlow held out a hand so that the purple smoke can dance around her palm. "Why halfling? Is this darkness mixed with something else?" "Yes, it consumed a Hogyoku." "Consumed, no little one. It merged with it, incredible." Magnus reached out with a cautious finger, but immediately pulled back when stinging pain rushed up his arm. Stefanie entered, offering her neck, but Harlow took her wrist instead. Greedily drinking her sweet blood as she watched Magnus marvelling over the darkness. "Amazing, it does protect the ones who carried it."

I gulp audibly but nod my head. “Good, little doll, good.” He turns around, motioning me to follow him closer to the third table, where a woman with manic eyes stares back at me. Her eyes are filled with hate, and it floods my system. Her nightgown is tattered, blood coating the ends. One eye is completely swollen shut, but based off the blood coating her face, I have a feeling it’s missing completely. Both hands are broken, fingers bent in odd ways and in some cases missing completely. Large gashes travel from the top of each thigh down her legs, a weird blue, glowing liquid oozing out of the wounds.

I suppose this means I'm about to have another not-so-pleasant chat with him, just as I did before, during, and after the Mate Ball. He's the one who had held me up after the liminal order arrived Crestbane, and he turned my body to stone so he could interrogate me about the state of Liminal Kaelith’s room, which he said was not in order. A signature behavior of mine. As we pass through the halls, I sense slight tremors in Velthra and know it's because of all the Ghasts there. Most people don't understand much about these creatures. They are like soul eaters and are readily available to feast on anything they find physically in Velthra.

If there was even a sliver of a way back… My fingers dragged over one particularly ancient tome: bound in silver and wrapped in spell-locked chains. I whispered the unlocking spell, old enough that the air around me shimmered with pale blue glyphs. The book creaked open. “Chronos Binding,” I murmured. The title alone sent a chill down my spine. Inside were diagrams of realms overlapping each other like threads in a tapestry. Old Realm. Divine Plane. Mortal Realm. Abyssal Void.

Inside, torchlight revealed shelves of weathered scrolls and leather bound tomes, dust motes swirling in the air like forgotten spirits. I scanned the titles, my fingers brushing over faded script. "Here," I said, pulling a thick volume from a low shelf. The cover bore a triad symbol, three interlocking wolves encircled by storm clouds. Isaak lit a lantern, and we huddled around the open pages. The text was in an archaic dialect, but fragments were clear enough, illustrated with crude drawings of shattered landscapes and raging tempests.

A small smile crept across my lips. One of the treasures I gained from helping that foolish woman… Morrisa. I hovered the amulet against the wound. Warm energy spread through my arm. The flesh began knitting itself together. Few minutes later… The wound was gone. Just as the healing finished, a howl echoed through the forest. Not one of mine. Celdor’s wolves had found my scent. I chuckled darkly. “Good.” I reached beneath my cloak and pulled out a small bottle, then drank its contents slowly.

“The observers have just arrived, my lord. They brought something… special.” With a wave of his hand, Malachar summoned the three beings. They materialized in the center of the room, kneeling. The black glass vial floated to the table, landing in front of Vortigern. Inside it, the liquid shimmered with iridescent shades of gold, silver, and crimson — the combined essence of Irmak and the twin dragons. Malachar snapped his fingers. A crystal sphere appeared above the table, projecting perfect holographic images of the scene in the forest.