Harry Potter Reliquias De La Muerte นิยาย & เรื่องราว

"You'll regret ever setting your eyes on me; you'll regret buying me even. I swear over my late parents' grave to make your life miserable, even if I die trying to." And with that I walked out, the Dark Lord will regret buying me.

“We need to understand the nature of these relics and their significance in Lysander’s plans. Each artifact might hold a key to countering his dark magic.” Aislinn, who had been examining the pendant, nodded. “This pendant is embedded with a gemstone that radiates strong magical energy. It could have properties related to protection or enhancement. I’ll need to conduct a thorough magical analysis to determine its capabilities.” Silas, holding the weathered tome, spoke next. “This tome is filled with ancient knowledge. It might contain spells or information about dark magic that could be useful in understanding Lysander’s methods. We should review its contents carefully.”

The creature we intended to create, the weapon strong enough to rule both packs and covens, would remain a dream. I couldn’t let that happen. I turned toward the far wall and knelt beside the hearth. My fingers found the loose stone easily, and I pried it free. Behind it, hidden in a hollow space, lay a leather-bound book wrapped in crimson silk. The Grimoire of Thalora: my mother’s legacy. Every forbidden spell she had collected, every curse she had perfected, every binding stronger than blood. I unwrapped it carefully and set it on the table. The cover was cold to the touch, almost pulsing beneath my fingertips, as if the book itself was alive. I flipped through the brittle pages until I f

Jason found me under the silver willows, book in hand, looking lost. “She’s planning something,” he said, sitting beside me. “I can feel it.” “So can I,” I replied. Kael joined us, arms crossed. “Lira told me sentries reported movement in the lower vaults. Old energy signatures. Sparks of something… wrong.” I didn’t react. But inside, my fire stirred. Because I knew what it was. The ritual. Morwen wouldn’t bring Harry back whole. She can't, because Harry is a strong force on his own. He has lived for centuries,always returning to earth with different faces and bodies, but still the same.

The relic was our only shot before I blacked out or the sickness won. We hit the vault door, and Elara worked her magic with the fragment. It slid open easy, too easy maybe, but we didn’t have time to second guess. The room was huge, shelves everywhere full of glowing junk, and there in the middle on a pedestal sat the full relic, crystal pulsing like it was waiting for me, calling to the broken parts inside. My claws itched to come out, the wolf and vamp sides waking up hungry for the power it promised. I stepped forward, heart racing like crazy, the bond flaring with Marcus’s mix of hope and terror.

Sinthy blinked and shook her head. "Sorry about that. I was being overly dramatic. It's a reliquary embrocation. Created and strengthened over hundreds of centuries. She held the jar up close to my face, "is essentially the concentrated essence of dozens of legendary magical figures throughout history. The blood of Odin, a strand of hair from Samson, a fragment of the mummified remains of the sun god Ra , " "Hold on," I interrupted. "Odin? Ra? Those… were they actually real?"

I was looking at both of them oddly and noticed that the stick thingy had a very dark auras, so I asked Arram what it was. "It's a Lazarus bone fragment and mimics death, dark witches have used it since biblical times, including your mother," Arram explained firmly. I raised my brow as I watched him drop it into the glass jar and close the lid. "Why would she want me to appear dead?" Both Arram and Grim looked at me then at each other. Arram shrugged and stood and headed over towards a display case with several collected items inside. He turned, holding a stunning necklace with black and opalescent stones on it.

She was the strongest witch from her clan, and I was her powerful hybrid child, until they came. The witch who had prepared the Anthurium must have known who I was, and surely had enough grudge against me and my mother to go to that lengths. To perform such a strong potion, a sorcerer must be willing to sacrifice a decade worth of their power - for a decade they will have no power and be unable to conjure up spells and someone had willingly done that in exchange for our death. I was going to find that person, and I was going to make death the easy way out for them. I flung the dead squirrel as far as I could, and with the back of my hand, I wiped my mouth before turning slowly to Damon. A wh

--- **POV – Shadow’s Movement** The creature moved faster now — emboldened by her weakness. It sensed the power inside her, but more than that: the fracture. The girl was *cracking.* And when she broke, something older would be free. It glided beneath the reliquary floor, where the forbidden artifacts of the first Hollow Kings were kept. Among the relics: a blade of glass that never dulled, a box of sealed screams, and— —a mask. Black. Carved. Breathing ever so faintly.

I encouraged, hoping to uncover any detail that might help us understand them better. She took a deep breath, her eyes distant as if she were reliving the scenes. "I see an ancient hall, Orin. Its walls are covered with symbols that match those on the relics I found. There's a council of figures, their faces obscured, but their voices... they chant a melody that resonates with my power. And there's this man, with storm-silver hair and eyes like mine. He calls me 'child of fire and shadow' and speaks of my untamed power." The intensity of her words sent a shiver down my spine. The relics she had discovered were indeed ancient, their surfaces etched with symbols that seemed to pulse with a lif