Lighthouse Landmines Novels & Stories

"Roric's security team. They're moving the Crystal now, Luna. They must have been alerted." "We're too late for the initial takedown, but not too late to intercept the move," I stated, shifting our strategy instantly. "The Lighthouse is warded, Zeva. It's designed to keep thieves out. But a mage who relies on wards usually relies on a power source. We neutralize the source and take the Crystal." We took an old smuggler's path up the treacherous coastal cliffs. The Lighthouse stood alone, a massive stone pillar against the stormy sky, its base surrounded by a thick, shimmering curtain of elemental wards.

The wind carried a chill, brushing past our fingertips. I suddenly remembered a quote I once read: "For those who have been hurt, those heavy scars are never worth reopening." "What should be praised is the courage to endure in desperate situations." The mountain that once stood before me had already been climbed the moment Dylan returned. "Let's end it here, Jeffery. Stop this." "We're both doing fine. Let's not entangle ourselves anymore." His tears suddenly began to fall. His lips trembled uncontrollably, unable to utter a word of protest.

He muttered, "Calm down, everyone. We should mobilize our troops to deal with the terrorists. I'll call A City's army to surround the terrorists and wipe them out in one fell swoop." When Christopher heard this, he nodded in agreement, but his face still looked thoughtful. "General Delia, the army can handle the terrorists, but what about the landmines? That's the most critical thing. At present, we don't even know where they are buried, how many of them are there, and when they will explode. It's unpredictable." General Delia understood what Christopher meant. He was instantly immersed in deep thoughts as well. "I have a plan." A clear voice came from behind. Everyone was shocked and turned

Less than two hundred meters off the starboard side… A rusted lighthouse rose from the sea. None of them had noticed it before. It stood on a narrow rock barely visible above the waves. Gabriel frowned. “That lighthouse shouldn’t be here.” Henry’s expression darkened. “It wasn’t.” ⸻ Captain Nora cut the engines. “No maps show a lighthouse in these waters.” Marcus studied it through the binoculars. “No windows.” “No beacon.” “No movement.” Just as he lowered the binoculars… A light appeared at the top.

New words. Written before their eyes. THE LIGHTHOUSE. Silence. Then another line formed. GO TO THE LIGHTHOUSE. Lily frowned. "What lighthouse?" Then Thomas immediately answered. "The old one." Everyone turned. The old lighthouse sat on the northern cliffs. Abandoned for years. Nobody used it anymore. Most people avoided it. Then another sentence appeared. IT IS THE ONLY SAFE PLACE. The room erupted. "What?" "How?" "Why?" Nobody knew. Then suddenly the journal wrote again.

The riddle that wannabe magician Tyr gave me was pretty obvious. It's a lighthouse that is hiding the Golden Coin. And, luckily for us, there are a limited number of lighthouses in Nova Scotia. We're at number eight, and I have a good feeling about this one. "Let's go." I wave at the group I've selected to accompany me to the lighthouse while several more wait on the boat. It's a top team, and I couldn't be more prepared for whatever is to come next. I've fought and climbed my way into my position as Northeast Leader of the Silver Hunters, and it's been a long journey.

Damien drives to a storage unit on the edge of town and unlocks a metal door, revealing a stash of equipment, flashlights, rope, even a second handgun. I stare. “You were ready for this.” “I hoped I’d never need it,” he replies. He hands me a flashlight and a small can of pepper spray. “Stay close to me. No matter what happens, you don’t run off. Understand?” I nod, though fear twists through every nerve. The old lighthouse rises from the cliffs like a jagged tooth, waves crashing below. The storm has moved out to sea, leaving the night raw and sharp. We approach on foot, the path slick with rain. My flashlight beam cuts through the mist.

Ignatius asked, sitting up on the table, his chest heaving. "Looking at the view," Rafferty said. He stepped aside so Ignatius could see. Out in the dark water, far beyond the breakers, small lights flickered. They weren't stars. They were the navigation lights of six high-speed interceptor boats. On the ridge above the cottage, the silhouette of a man in tactical gear moved across the skyline, the moonlight glinting off a rifle barrel. Ignatius stood up, his face pale. "What is that? The police?"

said another Alpha, Sasha's voice. "All three," Garrett confirmed. "Northern, eastern, western. The minefield deployment happened while we were managing the Assembly ratification. The Leviathan coordinated the placement." He looked at his notes. "Zephyr-Pattern Ionization Spheres, based on Marcus's preliminary scan data from this morning. Proximity-fused. Any mass transit attempt triggers chain detonation." "So we can't resupply from outside," Torr said. "Not through the passes," Garrett said. "Not with anything large enough to matter."