Medieval Times Books Fiction Novels & Stories

I could feel him open up to me upon hearing my confession. “Believe me…” I murmured. “I know better than anyone how you must feel.” He gazed at me. “It’s no way to live, isn’t it?” I huffed a short, awkward laugh in response, focusing my full attention back on stacking the books. This time, the titles caught my attention, ranging from the history of our kingdom to the customs, cultures, and histories of our neighbors: the Vixens and the Bear-Shifters. And then there was one book in particular about something that I had never heard of before… nothing like anything Father ever discussed or that I’d read of in fairytales.

He said, and I nodded in thanks. “This is beautiful.” I said, running my finger over one of the book cases. A book, the Wolves of the Medici, made me raise an eyebrow as I pulled it out of its case. This wasn’t one that I heard of before, but I could tell that it was a vintage one, maybe an old one. “History book about Medici wolves?” I asked, and Viktor nodded.

ancient, the pages brownish. "Go ahead, I'll just sit here doing nothing," Axel said, and I almost felt bad for him; he seemed already bored, and I hadn't even started. My hands trailed down the line of ancient history books, and then there was a book that caught my attention; it seemed more recent than the other books. I picked it out of the shelf; there was another book behind it; I took that out too. The book had been titled 'Barbara's Fantasies'.

There were books in French, German, Greek, Arabic, and even some incredibly old ones dating back to the 14th century. Faith enjoyed the muffled stillness in the library, away from her pestering sister who was going crazy begging for answers, only sometimes joined by Katherine or William. When William joined her, they sat for hours in silence or discussing the books they were reading. They were both great fans of Shakespeare's Hamlet, discussing their thoughts together. Twice now, Faith had fallen asleep as she lost herself in a book, only to wake up and be in her bed, the only possible culprit William, and a marker on her page. She never confronted William about it, but it made her heart soa

“You are right. But I'll stay up late to see who's sitting in my room without my will.” “We’d better see your books.” Johnny checked the books in Elizabeth’s hand. In the pile of book prepared for the girl there were: Encyclopedia of magical eras, from the beginning to the present day, Find out what others have done ... and become a better wizard, by Mark Zitter Geography of magical places and unknown fantastic areas, Beaten tracks ... and uncommon roads, by Julia Simens Beasts rarely seen ... or never met, Seen in dream ... in dim mindset, by Hans von Kilberg

he whispered. "...because blood remembers." Lucien smiled for the first time since entering the library. "Now you're asking the right questions." Adrian barely heard him. His attention had shifted to another shelf. Hundreds of journals stood in perfect order. Each spine carried nothing except a year. 1348. 1349. 1350. 1351. 1352. 1353 Years that historians associated with plague, war, conquest, or catastrophe. He pulled one volume halfway from the shelf. "Why these years?" Elias didn't stop him.

she said, guiding Marcy to the table and setting out children's books along with a jar of different treats. I put the old books back on the shelves, but my curiosity about the kind of books the bloody man read was something I couldn't resist. While Zoey taught Marcy, I went through Reis’s books. It was basically wolves and history… there was a book titled *Moon Curse*, re-written by Wulfstan Throne, 1684. I didn’t need to be told, the author was probably from Reis’s past generation. It was amusing to find out they had all been suffering from the curse since the 1600s.

He takes it and scans the lines quickly. “Where did you get this?” I ask. “My parents collected books from all over the world. I have no idea where this one came from.” His face stays mostly blank as he reads. He clearly doesn’t care much for old books. “These are just boring words.” “This is history about Zephyra’s kind. They’re called Crimson Born in this book, and if you look here, they have a queen usually sent down by the goddess.” “This is just fiction.” “Who writes fiction this way?” I groan. “Look at how it’s written

The air grew thick with the sound of turning pages and the scent of dust they were disturbing for the first time in decades. Nate’s mind reeled as he read. The books spoke of creatures he’d only ever seen in movies. There were bestiaries detailing dragons, their scales described with metallic precision. He found genealogical charts for vampiric bloodlines and treaties on fae territories. It was a hidden history of the world, all contained in this impossible room, and he could barely believe any of it was real. The books themselves were artifacts, some dating back hundreds of years, their pages brittle and their ink faded. “So… dragons? Vampires? They’re real?” Nate breathed, his voice hushed

After a few hours, I plunge then took into semi-darkness, leaving only a small light on, and slip under the covers. I glare at the book. "Very well! It's just you and me!" I lean against the headboard and put the book on my lap. What I discover is fascinating. It's a collection of handwritten accounts of witches of all ages. The oldest dates back to the Middle Ages. The writings are indeed originals. I touch them with deference. What some witches experienced in discovering their gift seems to reflect my own emotions. I'd never thought I'd read so much in one day, but I identify with them so much that I forget the time.