Liminal Space Books Novels & Stories

Nanny Rita said it contains some cute stuff from her high school days – a phase in her life that brought her so much trauma. She breathed deep before opening the bag. It contains old slum books and a diary with broken lock. She smirked thinking that her mother could have forced to open it. She must be disappointed to see nothing juicy about the things that she wrote there. Her younger life was boring and predictable until it wasn't. In fact, each page of her diary contains almost the same events. As she randomly went through each page, she noticed a paper inserted within its pages. She almost dropped the diary upon seeing that paper from way back. It's still obvious that it was once cru

He answered, dissapearing in a light green blinding light. "Whoa!" "Wonders shall never end." "First someone appears and disappears in a thick red smoke, then boom! another one disappears in a light green blinding light." Elinda talked to herself while pacing in the room. Again, she found herself drawn to the weird picture on the wall, and she took it down to get a closer look at it. When she immediately touched it, the walls behind it opened, displaying a small red cabinet. Out of curiosity, she opened the cabinet and found two golden bottles, which she immediately opened. She inhaled its contents, and a surprise gasp left her mouth. Blood! was what was in there.

POV: Lucian The space between. Not the sanctum. Not the temple. Not any physical place that Lucian has been before or could describe in terms that a map could contain. The between-space has the quality of the Silverfen's mist, present and not quite real, occupying a threshold rather than a location, the kind of place that exists at the edge of consciousness rather than in the center of it. Lucian is here because the heartstone's contact completed enough of the separation to leave the channels temporarily between states, the First Hybrid's presence retreating and the original architecture not yet fully re-established, the gap between the two producing this space the way silence is produced by

My pulse quickened each time I passed a closed door, half-expecting someone to step out and catch me in my midnight excursion. The double doors loomed before me like the gates to some forbidden realm. Slowly, I pushed one open, wincing at the groan of the hinges. Peeking inside, I let out a sigh of relief when I saw it was empty. The dim moonlight streaming through the tall windows gave the room an ethereal glow, highlighting the towering bookshelves that seemed to stretch endlessly. Closing the door softly behind me, I moved deeper into the room. My fingers brushed against the spines of countless books as I walked along the shelves. Somewhere in here, there had to be a clue, a record, anyth

POV DARLENE The True Soul of the First Luna was not a place of light, but a labyrinth of infinite, intersecting mirrors, each one vibrating with the hum of a billion discarded timelines. As I passed through the Thirteenth Gate, the weight of the "Liminal North" vanished, replaced by a terrifying buoyancy. I wasn't walking; I was drifting through a sea of liquid silver and frozen thoughts, my own body flickering like a dying star as the "Voice" I had claimed began to tear at my atoms.

One bolt cutter later and she had the gate wide open for passage. The small space had collected dust over the years, but what lingered within raised goosebumps on her arm. It was as if once the gate was opened by someone other than Janice, an aura of uneasiness settled in her stomach and she felt unwelcomed. However, she pushed past the unwanted feeling and hunted through the stacks of worn out titles in hopes to find something. Anything for that matter. Yet the books she came across seemed more like grimoires than anything.

fairly amazing? Looking at the library, I feel like I can see something in here. "Master Emric, nice seeing you around. You haven't visit for a week so I thought you already finished reading every single book in the exclusive chamber.." What he said is something that is impossible. After all, that place is like a paradise for me. To think that the space in thee is almost infinite. Many categories of books can be seen. It is odd though since I can say that some of the books placed in here are barely finish. It is as if they placed it in here even if they know that the book is not yet complete.

“The bridge phenomenon is not merely mental — it stirred a fragment of space itself. And that fragment is one we can best address through our own workshop of words and rites.” Rhaell steps forward, asks for parchment and ink, and sits under the bright lamps at the great stone table. Slowly, he sketches Nyra’s description: the lake, the shore, the slender columns, the broken line of the bridge. As he works, he speaks softly, as if explaining to himself. “If the Sickle Stars have shifted, then the spatial orientation has realigned. Where the stars ‘turn back,’ coordinates behave in nontraditional ways. The bridge Nyra saw does not stretch across our continent; it’s more like a layered connecti

I was losing time, and the more time I lost, the farther she wandered and the harder it was going to be to find her. I stared up at the emptied shelf for a few minutes, slightly impressed with what I'd done and what I could do with the entire library if it was all mine. Soon, I created some space to settle in between the books spread all over the ground. One by one, I skimmed through each of the contents regarding spells in this scenario, but all sounded terribly alike except for one unique detail I stumbled upon in one of the books. “Visit likely places the soul would be”. I whispered the words to my own hearing.

Tears welled up, and she turned and fled down the hallway, the sound of her bare feet slapping against the hardwood fading into the distance. Lucas stared at the empty doorway, the echo of his own voice ringing in his ears. A wave of guilt washed over him, mixing with the hot anger that had been simmering all night. He took another swig, then another, and another. He lost count of how many bottles he emptied. The room started to spin, the edges blurring. He pushed himself to his feet, the world tilting precariously. He lurched forward, his hand outstretched, searching for something to hold onto.