Keeper Of The Lost Cities Book Covers Mga Nobela at Kwento

It rested upon a marble pedestal in the center of the room. Bound in white leather. Its pages shimmered like silver leaves. Kael blinked. “We nearly died…” “…for a book?” Dante folded his arms. “Knowing our luck…” “…it’s going to try killing us too.” Cassian actually smiled. “It has tried.” Kael immediately took three steps backward. “I knew it.” ⸻ The Keeper carefully lifted the ancient tome. The cover bore no title. Only the crest of the First Kingdom. He opened it.

I turned it to the side where there is no dirt and wipe the book using it. I saw a black cover with gold linings and designs. I touch the ribbons that are placed in some of the pages. There are symbols located at the bottom part of the cover, carved and painted in the color of gold, but I don’t understand what it means. I looked at the back but there were just designs. I tried opening it but there’s a metal lock on the side. Huh? Was this… a secret book? It kinda looked like a grimoire.

It was not all, the cover was the eyes of werewolves. My brows furrowed in keen interest as well as something I can't name settling within me. Without thinking further, my hand took out the book and the front cover showed the face of werewolves with its eyes glowing in a golden hue. I brushed my fingers on the cover, mesmerized by the image. It was delicately printed and made.

"Well yesterday he came to ask me about your book. And it was weird because it was the 3rd one in the series. He didn't even know it was yours or your name. He just wanted a background check on it so I told him it was yours. He then Alpha commanded me to tell him everything about you. He said it was a clue. What's going on there?" "He wants to go on a date with me and I said only if he could tell me what my name was. He couldn't, so I gave him the book as a ‘clue’. I didn't realise he would come to you about it." I say with a mouthful of ice cream. "Giving him a book that was written by Day Dreamer is a nasty hint." "I didn't really want him to figure it out. He gave me these sad puppy dog e

Brixtius turns and starts walking down the corridor; little Eurydice ran down. I follow him down the dim hallway. I immediately glimpse at the paintings on the wall. Mostly the scenes are of the gods, playing havoc on Olympus. There are some paintings of everyday life. Men and women are working the fields, eating the bounty of the land, and enjoying each other's company. What grabs me the most is the vivid colors and lifelike detail. It saddens me to know these pictures will soon be destroyed when Vesuvius blows her stack. As if the thought disturbed the sleeping giant. The walls and floor start to shake. The tremor only lasts a few seconds, but it's enough to spur me into action.

Ash chuckles, “It’s okay, we managed.” She nods, “Could I have the book to look at while we wait for Serena?” Kai nods and gets up to grab it. They had re-wrapped it in the silk scarf that Benny had given it to her in. She lets Kai unwrap it and place it on her lap. The book is clearly ancient, but the leather of the cover is in remarkable condition. But then it had been stored in a dragon’s hoard for years. The cover had an embossed phoenix on it, and a few gems in gold settings to highlight some details.

I brushed it away, revealing the title etched in fading letters: The Lost Howl of Lysara. My heartbeat quickened. Lysara the last known healer wolf before me. Cradling the book gently, I sank onto the cold stone floor. The weight of it rested in my lap, heavier than it looked, like it carried more than just words like it held a warning. I opened the cover. The scent of aged parchment rose up, sharp and almost bitter. The first page trembled between my fingers, stained and yellowed by time. My eyes scanned the opening lines, and my breath caught.

But when she pulled it free, her breath stopped. The book was unlike anything she had ever seen. Its cover was bound in leather so dark it seemed almost black, though in the right light it shimmered faintly with hues of deep crimson. Strange symbols—curved, jagged, and foreign—were etched into its surface, pressed deep into the hide like scars. No title marked its spine. A lock, thin and ancient-looking, sealed its pages.

From the second dice, she got the next number—the page in the book. And there it was. It had even been marked ‘Lost Cities of the One World.’ Ilyria wanted to laugh but she was too relieved. She didn’t know how much time had passed but she felt an urgent need to hurry. She removed the page from the book, closed it and put everything back as it had been. For her father. She made her way back down the passageway, thinking of how she would love to spend days in her father’s chambers, looking over all his papers, trying to know the man and not just the fragmented memory of a father that she had.

I can visualize the clock wheels turning in his head, trying to decide if I am capable of understanding the complex poem. I like a challenge! I sit, ignoring the warmth spreading through my body as I lie close to Bryce, opening the tome, and I gasp. The artwork on the page is beautiful and elegant. The lettering reminds me of "The Book of Kells," a real work of art. But I do not have the time to carefully examine the intricate patterns and designs created in different colored inks.