Kirby Tapestry Novels & Stories

“Do you see anything that interests you?” The tapestry furthest left was a simple design depicting the Higher God of Bloodshed, Arners, surrounded by a sea of--well, blood. He had on his typical wolf skull mask and black cape with a giant axe gripped tightly in his hand. The middle tapestry was a lighter scene, simply a forest with a woman lying up against a tree with a stag cozying up to her. The woman looked quite familiar, as if Ursa had seen her before. The final tapestry hung up depicted a castle on a ledge surrounded by a sea of lava. Overhead, a large storm harassed the castle, incessantly trying to get the attention of the people within. That was the original piece. “These are all qu

Kirby began, her voice filled with excitement. My heart pounded in my chest as her words sank in. A simple procedure? What the hell was she talking about? That did not sound simple at all, not with the menacing energy that surrounded Mr. Kingston and Kirby’s unsettling enthusiasm. I swallowed hard, trying to mask my fear with a facade of composure. “Tested for what?” I asked, my tone laced with fear and nervousness despite my efforts to sound steady. Kirby’s smile widened, making the situation even more creepy and dreading than it already was. “We have a program and it has been under wraps for a few years now. We have been trying to find a way to make people live longer and a few other thing

Threaded through the fabric were intricate patterns, each thread a different hue, weaving together to form a breathtaking mosaic of colors and shapes. Valen's eyes widened in awe. "What is this tapestry?" he asked, his voice filled with wonder. The Spirit Guardian's voice echoed with a sense of reverence. "This is the Tapestry of Destiny a living testament to the heroic deeds and unity that have shaped the Enchanted Realm throughout the ages."

The stones are cool and dusty against the soles of my feet while I pass the alcove where the old tapestry hangs. For a minute or two, I forget why I came out here in the first place and just stared at the sewn together artwork on the old tapestry that shows the picture of a wolves and hounds and a moon that is set too low. Perhaps however created this was trying to create a hunt scene on a mountain. I intrigued, but then I hear the sounds of fists on leather and the scrape of boots coming from the training yard.

He chuckles. When I walk in, the walls are covered with tapestries of every size and shape, each one filled with images that tell a different story. Some show battles, others kings and queens, and a few seem to whisper of forgotten lands. Glass cases line the room, holding rare crystals in many colors, shapes, and sizes. They catch the light, glowing softly. But one tapestry in particular pulls at me. Its colors are deeper, as if woven with something more than cloth. “Is that… the Raven Wolf King?”

Chapter 13: The Threads of Fate As the Red Teary Moon Pack continued their journey, they came across an ancient temple hidden deep within the heart of the wilderness. Inside the temple, they discovered a magnificent tapestry that stretched across the walls, filled with intricate patterns and vibrant colors. The tapestry seemed to shimmer with a magical aura, and the pack members sensed that it held a profound secret. Curiosity piqued, Emily reached out to touch the tapestry, and as her paw made contact, a surge of energy coursed through her. Visions flashed before her eyes, revealing the interconnectedness of all living beings and the threads of fate that bound them together.

Instead, I turned my attention to Natalie Hayes, who had spotted me across the room and was now eagerly making her way toward us. "Eliza! You came!" she exclaimed, grabbing my arm with surprising familiarity. "Come, you must see these tapestries. They depict the legendary wolf hunts from before the Great Alliance." She dragged me away, Lily following hesitantly behind. The tapestries were indeed magnificent—intricate scenes of wolves in battle, their forms rendered in silver and gold thread against midnight blue fabric. "Do you know how to ride?" Natalie asked suddenly, her eyes bright with enthusiasm. I shook my head. "I never learned."

One mark bled into another like ink dropped into water. Autumn stood slowly, heart pounding now for entirely different reasons. Across the room, the tapestry she’d passed a hundred times—threadbare, dull with age, embroidered with birds mid-flight and curling leaves—began to glow. Not brightly. Not dramatically. Just enough. Enough to reveal what had been woven under the image. A second symbol. A third flame. Her breath caught. She crossed the room and lifted the corner of the tapestry. Dust fell in a soft sigh, and beneath it she found a recessed panel in the wall, nearly invisible unless you knew what to look for. It wasn’t locked. No hinges. No keyhole.

And it was these tales, wrapped in mystery and time, that the trio had come seeking. With a knowing look, Morgana gestured towards a wall obscured by heavy drapes. Pulling them aside, she revealed a mesmerizing tapestry. Woven with threads of gold and silver, it showcased a celestial ballet: moons in their various phases surrounded by majestic wolves, each enacting a scene from times long past. The attention to detail was breathtaking, each strand capturing a moment, a memory.

I slice the tape. Inside, nestled in black tissue paper, is a coil of rope. It’s gorgeous. heavy, shibari-grade silk rope in a deep, blood-red color. It shimmers in the light. I run my fingers over it. It’s soft as butter but strong. There’s a card tucked underneath. A heavy, cream-colored stock with handwritten ink. I pick it up, my hands trembling again. For when we meet. —A.R. My heart slams against my ribs.