Imaginary Westeros Novels & Stories

After eating and drinking their fill, Alanna grew tipsy and began sharing everything that had happened lately. She rambled about small things, like how I bought a new game console for the house, and large things, like our arguments, and how I refused yesterday to give up the championship for her. I had never known she could talk so freely. Jack listened patiently, then looked at her gravely. “I didn’t want to say this, but I don’t think Lewis loves you,” he said quietly. Alanna froze. Jack continued, “No one understands men better than another man. Only when a man doesn’t love enough does he hesitate between a championship and the woman he loves.

He lounges back against the chair, looking incredibly smug. Leroy rushes to activate the projection screen like an eager, obedient puppy, and the Silvermoon elders watch intently, their hearts drumming with intense excitement. Suddenly, an elder mutters, "Wait... that layout doesn't look like the Blackfang Wastelands at all!" "It is definitely not the Wastelands. It looks more like the West End borders." "Yeah, it is definitely the West End—that run-down, low-energy territory with all the cheap land surrounding the outer ridge."

I look. The Astra channel opens wider than it's ever been and for three seconds I can see — not with eyes, with something older — the spatial structure of the Nine Realms spread out like a formation diagram. Every layer. Every connection. The Thrones sitting at structural junction points like load-bearing columns. The Overseer above it all, absent but present the way a frame is present even when you're only looking at the painting. And the monitoring formations. Dozens of them. Scattered across the realms. Active. Turning slowly like searchlights.

Kyra turns to the last page of the book and rips out all of the pages and my eyes widen in shock. "What did you do that for?" I question. "My father wrote that story with the three of us. Little did we know at the time that he was preparing the three of us to one day rule over all of the realms. The realms were our test. To see how each of us did with the little power he gave us and I'm sure he was disheartened when Rizor failed. He wanted one of us to rule over all three realms in the end," she says while tearing more of the book revealing another open book that was hidden beneath those pages.

The capital of the West State was known as Westeros, a metropolis. Westeros was the heart of finance, politics, and business in the entire West State. The wealthy families that were able to root themselves in the metropolis were some of the strongest and wealthiest in the entire country. In the heart of the city, there was a residential mansion guarded by heavy security. A middle-aged man in a black jersey was meditating in the room with his eyes closed. Following his deep and long breaths, steam rose from the top of his head. Knock, knock!

From what they explained, the Nightstar pack is directly in the middle of all the sectors. To explain, the supernatural realm is divided into 5 sectors with the Nightstar pack in the middle. The sectors are the Werewolf sector, the Vampire Sector, the Witch Sector, the Fairy Sector, and the last sector is just all different species. From what Aryan explained, it has got demons, werebears, other animal shifters, and more. He said that a lot of people refuse to accept mixed species mates, and they end up leaving their home and heading to this sector as they are accepted there and not looked down on for having a mate of a different species.

Orester whispered as he had to make another cake for a customer as he stood up. “What is that?” All the children gathered around him as he smirked looking at Myelin who wanted to take away her daughter. “People say that the west Island is consumed by some kind of dark soul that changed their people into something else. They are called…” Orester was saying but he was again cut off not by Myelin but by the noises of the people coming from the cost. “Dark Spades are here.” “We are under attack.” “Run for your lives.” “Dark Spades.” Orester mumbled to himself as Myelin grabbed the hand of name and ran away to find a shelter.