Green Mantle Book Novels & Stories

I continue reading again. …..dragons even though not bonded can also speak to the one who holds the divine mantle of.. I flip to the next page but there is nothing. It is blank. The frown on my forehead deepens again, why is it blank? Where is the remaining part of the book? “No, no” I mutter to myself, this can’t happen now. I need to know what the book is talking about, I need to know what divine mantle it is talking about.

They’d need to gather what they needed for the ritual and still perform it. Gemma’s hands shook, and she glanced at Evan as she opened the book. The writing was clear even for the age and weathered look of the pages. The pages yellowed to a golden shade, buttery soft, with a slightly brittle feel to them. “Well, if the first pages tell us anything. It’s a grimoire. If the title of the first page means anything. A blessing for propagation tells me it’s what we’re looking for.” “Blessing for propagation? What does that do?” Evan frowned in confusion.

Luca paced slowly nearby, unusually quiet, unusually still. The sharpness usually carved into his features had dulled. He kept inhaling deeply like he couldn’t get enough air or scent. Crystal could feel it too. Greenwood didn’t feel like any place she’d been. It was different in a way the other packs weren’t. The trees swayed as if they were breathing. The soil didn’t just support, it seemed to remember. Veen knelt nearby, her long cloak spread behind her like roots of its own. “Lie down, Flame,” she said. “The tree will do the rest.”

But the moment the longboat scraped against the silt of the Green Abyss, the humidity hit the Thorne siblings like a wet woolen blanket. ​The jungle didn't just grow; it screamed with life. The trees were massive, silver-barked pillars wrapped in bioluminescent vines that pulsed with a rhythmic, sickly green light. It was a "Mana-Reactive" environment; the flora fed on the residual magic of any traveler passing through.

Silence filled the Eternal Sanctuary. Every Guardian stood motionless, their eyes fixed on the ancient altar nestled within the heart of the Tree Beyond the Sky. The weathered book rested on a pedestal of living silverwood. Its cover was unlike anything they had ever seen; it wasn't leather or cloth, but looked as though it had been woven from moonlight itself. Silver roots wrapped gently around its edges, pulsing with a heartbeat that felt older than time. Aiden took an unconscious step forward, and the book responded as a faint silver glow spread across its cover.

I wasn’t happy because Tristan can also use the spell, but I was happy because I could get to know more about the spells I'm using, which I'm sure would be in this book. The pages of the book were old. It's like it's telling the story of a thousand years gone by. The edges tingled with the passage of time. I opened the first page, and the texture of the paper was worn and soft under my fingertips. Unlike the other books, which don't have anything on their first pages, this was different. ‘Moonlit Enchantments: A Guide to Werewolf Magic,’. It was written on the first page. The scent of mystery lingered in the air like a ghostly presence as I took a quick glance at Andrian.

“Does it bite?” Steve snorted. “Probably.” They reached a circular antechamber at the end of the hall where a massive tome—several feet tall and wider than a table—sat on a pedestal of smoldering glass. The book was open, its pages turning themselves. Emma stepped forward and placed her hand on the edge of the platform. Immediately, flames curled around her wrist—not burning, but connecting. Visions surged. --- Emma Sees the Past

Deep purple, swirling script and tiny inlayed gemstones decorate all the available covers space. ‘Witches – The origin of a species.’ I recognise some of the gems, others look like they could have been stolen away from other worlds. A milky white, opaque stone, with black veins and a blue hue in the right light, stands out above the rest. I would recognise a moonstone anywhere. My thumb glides over it’s cool, polished surface and a shiver runs up my arm. The freaked out little boy inside me, yells at me to put the book down. I’m not about to argue. I place it on the table beside me and reach for the next.

“For years now, the land has been left fallow for grass to grow and this year, I can assure you all, that something massive has been planned.” “Can you tell us —” one of the students started but was cut short. “Unfortunately, I can't tell you all what it is as I don't know it, too.” After some minutes of walking, they got to the field which happened to be the place where Brie had trained Harold last semester. The grasses had been leveled and was a lush, tropical green world which homed butterflies and other insects. “I wonder what it is they plan to do here? Any idea?” the student next to Max whispered to him. He simply rolled his eyes in disgust and said nothing.

'Book forty-three of the Kingsmen Chronicles. He leaned the book back towards him and pulled it from the shelf with grace. He smiled as he looked at it in his hand, his eyes carefully considering the intricate pattern of the gold decorating the cover. Gingerly, he cracked it open, leading through the pages until at last he found the desired portion. "The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not laid hold of it," he read aloud, proclaiming the fate of the nations.