Novel & Cerita Ilvermorny Books

The shuffle of hangers, the low hum of a dusty radio playing soft rock in the background, the occasional exclamation from a customer who’s found a hidden gem. In the back corner, I discover a wooden crate filled with books. My fingers hover over the spines, titles half faded, pages worn. I crouch down and start flipping through them, the paper whispering under my touch. Valerie appears beside me a moment later with a woven basket in one hand and a sequined scarf slung dramatically around her neck. “Any treasure?” she asks, crouching beside me. “Not sure yet,” I murmur, pulling out a leather bound book with a cracked spine. The title is barely legible. Myths of the Forgotten Realms. My breath

Each shelf was marked with the type of book it contained. "Kayla should take magic and spells," I said, guiding her to the correct section. She ran her finger down the dusty spines, pausing at a heavy book titled "The History of Elementals." She pulled the massive cream leather book off the shelf and settled in the corner, crossing her legs and resting the book on her lap. She turned the yellowed pages, running her finger over the black embossed words.

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.

“He’s still alive… for now. But you’re not here for him. Not really.” Elira turned slowly, holding something out. A book. Bound in black leather and laced with living veins of gold. The Grimoire of Binding. “The truth of our bloodline is in here. What they stole from us. What you need to see before you judge me.” Elara took it, her fingers tingling the moment she touched it. Visions stabbed through her mind—flashes of queens drowned in fire, children marked by fate, a kingdom cursed by its own magic. And at the center of it all…

Empty. Good. No whispers. Just rows of books that smelled faintly of dust and old leather. I drifted between shelves, trailing my fingers along worn spines. “Herbs of the Southern Marsh,” “Defense Spells of the Fifth Era,” “Principles of Alchemy.” My guards hovered like anxious statues. And then— I stopped. My hand froze on a spine I hadn’t seen in years. The leather was scuffed, the gold lettering half-burnt, but my heart recognized it before my mind did.

As we walked, the soft thud of our footsteps echoed through the solemn space. Jeremiah, a wise and weathered wolf with a graying muzzle, carried an ancient book in his hands. Its leather cover was worn, its pages yellowed with age. We reached a magnificent wooden table, carved with the same designs, and Jeremiah gently placed the book upon it. "Lyra," he began, his voice deep and resonant, "this book holds the secrets of our pack's legacy, and within its pages lies the tale of the Silver Werewolf." My curiosity piqued, I leaned in closer, my eyes fixed on the book. "Tell me, Jeremiah," I said, my voice filled with anticipation. "What is the story of the Silver Werewolf?"

'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.

She said. "mmmm... Can I see the book? I mean if you want." The prince wanted to see the book. But Chenyin was scared to hand it over. "I promised to master that I- - -" "I won't open it. I will just want to touch it." He said. Chenyin gave the book to the Prince. The book was brown. It had a beautiful design on it. And it has also a lock on it. "Hey it has a lock on it. Did you notice?" He asked.

I had to struggle to suppress a laugh. The Silver Myst was an urban legend, a pure silver wolf who showed up when things looked at their worst. He first appeared near four years ago, shortly after the war began, and has, supposedly, been seen numerous times since. It was always out of the corner of someone’s eye, or seen by a friend of a friend. Chris and the others were too old to believe in fairy tales.

Entering the dining hall we take our seats enjoying breakfast. After breakfast, we met Soren at the north entrance of the mountain. Soren stands bare examining the luggage prepared for the trip. "Are you seriously planning on presenting some old books as a gift?"Soren asks Turing to face us. "What could be more valuable than knowledge? Besides some of these books date back to the kingdom of Highmire so they are beyond valuable," I say narrowing my eyes. "I guess it'll have to do," he sighs in response. "Is everything accounted for?" I ask.