Legend Of The Red Thread Novels & Stories

the blue thread I saw earlier was not my hallucination. That thing still exists. It truly binds Ale and me together like a pair of handcuffs locking us both at the same time. It's just that I no longer see the gold and red threads from before. Perhaps only the owners of those threads can see them. And I know who they are. As I said, I had seen it. However, I never believed it because one she-wolf couldn't possibly have three mates. Three fated mates, all of whom couldn't be easily let go.

I stared ahead but paid attention to their conversation. "So what's this prophecy?" Jissa in her normal inquisitive nature, asked. "When Silver meets Gold, when White meets black," Miranda replied and I could almost hear what was going on in Jissa's mind. "How's that a prophecy? So incomplete, in my books," she said. "What would happen if these colors or stones meet each other?" She added to my amusement. My best friend could be a clown sometimes. "That's when the great war of the supernaturals would happen," Miranda broke it and I stopped abruptly.

She waves frantically, shaking with unadulterated excitement and pointing to a crowd of women gathered around a small stall a few steps ahead. “Let’s buy a red thread!” She yells to us. “A red thread?” I mutter to myself, trying to understand what it means. From my side, Ivan sighs, swearing under his breath and suddenly looking extremely uncomfortable and ticked off — all from the suggestion Ariel has made. Now, I’m confused. “What’s a red thread?” I ask, curious from his reaction. “You’ll see for yourself.” He says, doubling his pace forward to get out of talking about it with me.

"This is some information I gathered on my own related to our field. Don't lose it." Even my employer, the man we jokingly called Capitalism's Lil' Soldier, pressed a bank card into my hand. He had heard about my mother. "There's 72,000 dollars on it," he said quietly. "Everyone contributed. Use it for your mother's treatment." I nodded, raised my glass, and drank a blend of wine and tears. I thought about the days when Sebastian stayed away. My mother had been on the thirteenth floor, and his office was on the seventeenth. A ten-second elevator ride or a two-minute walk down the stairs would have been enough.

Not yet. It was a shape and an absence filled with form, folding down into the sky like a shadow of a thing that had never known limitation. Its edges were fluid but patterned, repeating the spiral sigil over and over like a heartbeat carved in light. It didn’t roar. It didn’t scream. I watched. And everyone, Sariah, Dain, Thalen, Ruthen, Cael, the girl, and her mother felt it when they saw them. The Threadwalker knelt slowly. “You can still decide,” she said. “Not to undo it. That part is done. But to guide it.”

“Wear it.” The seer reached back into her bag and pulled out a spool of red thread. “This thread was woven under a full moon,” she said. “Red binds life. It anchors the soul to the body.” She wrapped the thread carefully around the piece of wood, knotting it slowly and whispering words too old to understand. Then she opened a small vial. Clear liquid shimmered inside it. It was glowing faintly silver. “This is purified spring essence,” she said. “It washes away lingering corruption.”

" It's the warlock. '' He dropped his sword and worshiped him at once, and so were all behind him. Some more rabbit came out, and one of them spoke," your evil queen had come to destroy the jugular, but no, she has not, she only succeeded in defeating it brother line, we are almost going to the heart of the it, when you arrived, I will say you rest eat and rest first before we can begin to think of traveling to the place of greater beast, the real settlers, who formed the first family of beast, we call them the holy, where the queen had defeated was just a place where the unholy beast resides, these beast I speak of, are almost like angels, among us, they recently just gave passage to us all

Alex mounted up from his chair, picked his stuff like car keys, mobile, etc. “Henry, let’s go to Roselyn Lunatic Asylum.” Henry also stood up with a wide grin on his face. Though they are not sure for what Rose visits Roselyn lunatic Asylum they are sure they will get the answer to the most important question of their life ‘why is Red Rose?’ over there. Alex drove up at its fastest speed. This Red Rose case and this question ‘who is a red rose?’ made their life hell for many months. This case is not less than any maze the more they are trying to come out the more they are wandering deep inside.

They respected him as the Lunar Omega, rare, powerful and blessed by the Weaver. But I saw more, his thread wasn't just bright nor It wasn't just powerful, It was... old, Impossibly old. Like it had been woven before, long before this life, long before this world. Threads don't do that, threads are spun at birth and cut at death, they don't come back. Unless…..I shook my head, refusing to finish the thought. The old songs spoke of such things, souls woven more than once. They returned when they were needed. But those were just stories, myths told to comfort the grieving.

To him, time was like an interloping of threads, all related to each other and the ultimate space, and in rare, yet possible cases, it was possible to bend those threads. Threads...threads of time...it rang a bell, but I wasn't sure where I had heard it from. I closed the book and fell on the chair. Time travel? Me? For what? So I can re-live some of the worst years of my life? I held my hair in handfuls and yelled, hoping that if I yelled hard enough, some miracle will take place and take me back to the time I belong. I have already lived past this. This is not my life any more.