Keeper Of The Lost Cities Age Range Novels & Stories

Surely? “The Magoses of the great metropolises each preserved parts of their home. What you know now as the Lost Cities.” Around them the glamour began to shimmer and fade. The smoking ruins of the great metropolises sank beneath the desert sands and fell away until there was only cloud. “By the time the war was over, there was only desert left. Idixat, Itoulp, Isfan, Oren—these all were built hundreds of years after the wars.” “Astrapi,” she said. “How old are you?” He was describing events that he had lived through. Events of which there was no trace, not even legends, in her world. He may be hundreds, even thousands of years old.

Adrexa's voice questioned. "Jessa," I finish. "Jessa," Adrexa says calmly. "You're now a servant in Prince Braxius's household. The prince is the youngest son of King Priam and Queen Hecuba. You are in the golden city of Troy. Understand?" she asks firmly. I nod my head yes. Knowing my history, because I am a history minor, the ancient people were highly superstitious. I have to stay calm. I don't need to be accused of being a witch either.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Dear readers, particularly those who are rereading, please refrain from leaving comments that contain spoilers for the next generation. Let everyone discover them on their own. Let's not spoil the fun for them. 💖💜 Much love, Cass --------- Caleb - 50 years old Jake - 49 years old Aeon, Darvin - 48 years old Riley, Dominic, Lucas - 47 years old Caspian, Kallan - 46 years old

“twenty years ago.” Ethan’s grip tightened around the phone. Seventeen years. A strange discomfort spread through his chest. “What are you saying?” he asked. Victor’s voice softened slightly. “You were five years old when the Cross estate was attacked.” Ethan went still. Images flickered in his mind—fragmented, broken memories he had never understood. Fire. Smoke. Running footsteps. A burning pain in his arm. A woman screaming his name. Then darkness. He had always believed they were nightmares.

One of the guard suggested while the other muttered in agreement. “That’s a very great idea, and I think the only people who should be exempted from training should be the kids that are 2 years and below. The little ones who are 3 to 10 should be thought how to use catapult to fight. Let’s try to crate different trainings for different age ranges, we need people who would fight them from far and the men should be the ones at the front of the battle.” Another guard suggested and I couldn’t help but smile cause even the noble council members couldn’t think about ideas like this.

I am not a time traveler, but I am very prone to waking up to other people’s bodies, to a different scenario, to a different timeline. If someone will ask me who I am, my only answer will be…I am someone lost in time.

"You would gladly lose yourself if it meant protecting her." The real Zevarion didn't deny it. He couldn't. Because deep inside....... he knew it was true. The crimson version smiled sadly. "And that is exactly how the Legacy wins." A heavy silence followed. Then the bridge shimmered. The air before them rippled like water. A vision appeared. Not a memory. A possibility. They saw the Lost City years from now. The sky above the underground civilization glowed silver once again. Children ran through restored streets. The towers stood tall.