Guardian Tales Fan Art Novels & Stories

-Edited- The girl is in a dire state. Her mind is wholly blank in option. A doll who claimed to be her guardian is glaring at her while waving the tiny embroidered red fan. [You can call me Cheng] The tiny creature closes the fan in his hand hence continues his rambles while the girl listens to it attentively... She must know what is going on with her after death... [A guardian who guides you throughout your way... For your information, you had fallen in a controlled system called the Z system...]

I turn to her and she smiled and then she pointed the gray circle whirls in the middle. "The painter used this symbol as a moon. The moon is full and under the full moon are a different creatures who wants the full moon's light," the girl explained. I craned my neck to visualize what she's saying and my hands turned cold when I visualize one of the creatures that the painter paints here. My lips parted as my heart pounded slowly. I swallowed hard. I slowly lifted my hand to touched the painting. It was rough yet beautiful. "Do you like the painting?" The tour guide asked one more time. I nodded. One of the creatures that the painter paints is a wolf.

If he was going to get out of here, he needed to know every inch of this godforsaken place. He didn’t have beautiful memories outside this place. He was always hungry, yet he also couldn’t stomach what they were doing there. They were killing each other because FATHER ordered it. They were like puppets that shouldn’t have their own awareness. When he was alone or with Raja and everyone else was asleep, Tales would sketch maps, though calling them “maps” was generous. They were chaotic, messy doodles of squares and lines, barely resembling the compound. But they made sense to him. And he was proud of them, as if they were the best drawings and deserved a Nobel Prize. He hid them under the sin

She stops in front of my father’s desk, looking up at the painting above it. “What is it?” I ask her. “It is nothing important” she says shrugging her shoulders. I give her a pointed look. “Tell me” “It is just this painting. Remember when we found the painting of the Guild of the Guardians in my father’s office, back at the factory” she says thoughtfully. “Yes, what about it?” I ask. “Well, the Guild of the Guardians is a series of paintings. Not just one single painting. In fact, there are three of them. The second one in the series happens to be this one above your father’s desk” she says.

Tritan turns to face the guardian, a look of pleading on his face as he signs, "We left everything as it was, we only took notes. We didn't know that taking notes would violate our promise to the other guardian. But we don't take them for greed; we were looking for clues to a cure, seeking anything that would help our ailing kin-pod back home. And we gave back the copies we made; they were scattered outside when you... punished Hunter for trying to steal from your nest. I'm very sorry for his actions, but my bondmate stopped him before he could. Please let us go; we meant no harm." Finrir stays close to Tritan the whole time he is signing, making sure the guardian knows that Tritan does not

So she could wear them anytime. They didn’t waste any time and ran through the gates. As soon as they arrived there, the two fierce looking guards were already knocked out. With the amount of sleeping powder in the magnificent fireworks display, even the strangest warrior will be knocked out. But it seemed like Crystal and Oliver forgot one person. “Our guests are already leaving? The fireworks display is still on full display though. What’s the rush?” Oliver looked at Kian and the wings behind his back. I really couldn’t believe he’s also a dragon. Is that why he was able to conceal his powers?

I felt some warm liquid escape my honey pot, and I knew exactly what it was. Right there, my mind ran into the world of lust, the image of different sex styles forming in my head. I hadn't seen him like this before; he looked like a Greek goddess. “I paid the artist some solid figures to get the italic writing, just for you,” he said, walking close to me. “Just for me?” I mumbled as he leaned close, his lips brushing against mine. As if he read my mind, he grabbed my ass, seductively pinning me against the wall. I could feel his hands run through my thighs.

“When trust is woven through generations, it becomes the very cloth of unity.” Snow melted into spring pools around the Boundary Marker. Lanterns still glimmered faintly at dawn—remnants of last night’s vigil. Hannah, now nineteen and tall as her father, stepped forward. She wore a cloak handcrafted by Eluna, its fabric bright with woven runes and whispers of protection. Around her gathered dozens of newly minted Guardians—wolves with iron-edged gauntlets, humans in rune-inscribed leather, bears in layered protections.

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth before disappearing almost instantly. “It won’t last.” I hated how relieved that tiny expression made me feel. I crossed my arms. “Fine. Kael. Start talking.” The wind shifted between us, colder now. “You know the story they tell about the Guardians?” he asked. I nodded slowly. “They’re chosen to protect the balance between creation and ruin.” “That’s the version meant for children.” Something uneasy twisted in my stomach. “What’s the real version?” Kael’s gaze lifted to mine again. “The Guardians were never meant to destroy ruin,” he said quietly. “They were created to contain it.”

“The Guardian serves for impersonal ones. For balance, justice, and preventing monsters from ruling through fear.” “Then I serve for both,” I replied. “Personal and impersonal. Because I love my family and I believe in protecting people who can’t protect themselves. Is that good enough?” The witch smiled slightly. “That’s exactly what the artifact needs to hear. A Guardian who serves from love rather than duty alone. Who understands that the personal and political are intertwined.” She stepped closer, placing her hand over my heart where the artifact rested. “This will hurt. The Guardian bond sears itself into your soul, marking you permanently. You’ll carry its weight for the rest of your l