Lingering Soul Novels & Stories

The man Kael was on the other side, also awake, staring into the flames. “He’s worse, isn’t he?” the man said quietly, not looking at her. Liora didn't need to ask who he meant. “The memories are fading. The small ones go first.” “It’s the price of a forbidden resurrection,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact, like a scholar discussing a text. “The soul is recalled, but the mortal anchor—the brain—is not designed to hold it. It’s like pouring an ocean into a teacup. The teacup cracks.” He finally looked at her. “It will not stop. It will only get worse.”

This method of killing ordinary people was not enough to destroy dead souls. And Caspian's means were obviously not over. He took a step forward and made a grasping motion with his five fingers. These wriggling pieces of the dead soul could not move at all. They could only hover in place and move slowly. "Hey, little dead soul?" Caspian made a disdainful sound from his nose, and his palm suddenly shook. A wail came from the depths of the void at the same time as the soul fragment exploded into smoke. The wailing was filled with endless unwillingness, regret, and despair.

"Lyra, let your sister sing for you. Like when you were little." "Okay." She closed her eyes. "Sister… after you sing… will your throat hurt again?" "No. This is the last one." I started the Soul-Binding Lullaby. The song has three movements. As the first line left my mouth, the candle flame leaned toward me. By the end of the first movement, my fingertips were going clear. By the end of the second, my wrists were dissolving into points of light, drifting upward — through the dungeon roof, through the cracks in the stone, toward the moon.

His head throbbed, pulse quickened and blood flowed through each of his veins at the speed of light. His body was burning in fury just like the dry dead branches burned caught in the flaming fire. Burned till the monstrous flame extinguished at last satisfied by turning the branch into ashes.

"I know who I am. I am Kerik Renfred you wrench! The Queen of all life and dead creatures of the world." "That's not possible-" "I am Kerik Renfred!" My voice grew louder and louder over every word, and my confidence slowly returned back to me. There was no way to survive hell, without taking a piece of it with you. Something only dark souls can understand. "The worst kind of pain, is the one you feel in your soul, it slowly devours everything and weighs you down until you can no longer move. It hurts more than any burn, any scar and any bruise. Because it would never heal, no matter what you do. It's always there inside of you."

Lilac’s P.O.V. The voice was smooth yet raspy, an odd mixture of melted dark chocolate and gravel that somehow complimented one another. Each word was spoken as though it were a note in a song, in some ancient melody retold throughout the centuries. It reached out and touched my soul, stirring my heart until its beat became frenzied. “That’s part of the prophecy.” I tried not to pant, but the air I sucked into my lungs felt thick and syrupy.

in her full, ancestral glory. "The 'Gamble' is paid, Silas," Seraphina said, her voice sounding like a thousand years of hope. "The Architects tried to 'Liquify' the North, but you turned the 'Liquidation' into an 'Emergence'. You have given the North a 'Soul' that the Gallery can never harvest." She looked at Lyra, her liquid-gold eyes softening into a look of profound, ancestral love. "And the Sovereign. You have proved that 'Weakness' is just the 'Shadow' of the greatest strength. You have survived the erasure to become the 'Anchor'."

I think I’m the only one who comes here. I sat down at the old rusty swing and I was surprised when he got behind me and lightly pushed me. I held on to the chain of the swing, not minding even if the rust was staining my hand. I looked up at the sky and saw the stars sparkling and it reminded me of that night with him at the cemetery.

Even if Lilac bore Harmona's soul, could she truly be the same person? My heart wrestled with conflicting emotions. The desire for Harmona's return clashed with the realization that Lilac, as much as she might embody Harmona's essence, was an individual with her own experiences, her own journey through life. To reduce her to a mere vessel for my longing would be an injustice to her identity, an erasure of her autonomy.

yet refusing to leave the physical plane. The creature didn't growl. It emitted a sound like a skipping record, a glitchy snarl that resonated in the team's teeth. "They're 'Soul-Hungry,'" Elara whispered, gripping her spear tightly. "Thorne's failures. When the Link crashed, their consciousness didn't return to their bodies; it just... scattered. Now they're mere shells trying to fill the void with any energy they can find." Suddenly, the fog erupted. It wasn't just one wolf; a dozen shadows detached from the gloom, moving with an unnatural speed that defied the laws of physics.