Miraculous Creators Novels & Stories

Ezra, choosing silence over words, listened intently, realizing she had no answers to the myriad of questions Scarlet presented. A sudden pause hung in the air, and Scarlet's gaze shifted from the plate to Ezra. "I am getting old," she confessed, her eyes distant. "I want you to come back and live with us. I don't want to hurt you, but you can't leave us like that." Scarlet's plea hung in the air, the vulnerability in her eyes revealing a loneliness that had settled in over the years.

She looks at Zakira's blood dripping sword. Gripped by his both hands it rises up above his head. A thunder strikes in the sky behind his head. Shining white sharp point of sword illusions as the origin of the thunder that goes up and separates in three long white lines. It comes down towards her. Accepting her dreaded fate she closes her eyes. Her mind delves into a memory from the past. A young ten years old Alicia is standing in a wide veranda beside James. In front of them is standing Robert. "Elizabeth, look who is here?" he calls out.

Lowering my gaze towards my tiny little bump I hadn't even realized I had, I suddenly feel an ache within my heart that will never be able to self-soothe itself. My baby will never know his or her father, he or she will never know how wonderful he is or how strong and brave he is. Instead, if I'm lucky and I get out of this thing alive, I'll hopefully be able to hide somewhere where the creations will never find us, where other humans will never find us. That's a tall order if ever I thought of one, how can you disappear from humanity when you're living right on their planet. How do you hide away from monsters like the creations when they have made it their sole mission to find you and destr

"Hang on," I said, hand still engulfed in his. "The Creator made the maji who formed the planes." A rumbling song rang from the gathered dragons. "They would have you believe so," Max said. "It was Creator's desire they be responsible for the formation of life. But we, Creator made and set free." Random. My brain sizzled with further connections. "The wild magicks," I said, thinking of the tumbling, happy threads I'd freed from the Brotherhood, the same power that warned me about the sorcerers' takeover of the stronghold.

The moment Emma looked at it— Memories exploded inside her head. Not hers. Ancient memories. Civilizations rising. Worlds collapsing. Entire realities being born and erased. She gasped. The eye blinked. And suddenly the memories stopped. Emma stumbled backward. "What was that?" The Creator's expression hardened. "The reason I ran." Silence. Then: "The reason I created all of this." Emma froze. All of this. ORIGIN. The laboratory. Mercer. The fragmented identities. The resets. The timelines.

They could erase the pain of the past, remove the need for soot, and turn the universe into a "Paradise of Pure-Ease." Audrey looked at the key, then at Lucas, and finally back at the "Infinite-Cycle" humming behind her. She saw the "Guild-Masters" sweating over their forges, the "New-Architects" singing their hulls into existence, and the "Silver-Eyed" children learning the "Physics-of-the-Soul."

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“The book belonged to the Potions Master, but there were entries not created by him in it.” Alpha Bronx pouts his lip and squints. “I thought only the Potions Master could create new entries? Even if it’s just theory.” “There is a recipe for an elixir in the book. They say a powerful deity created it to bring forth life using magic.” Mirabella sounds worried. “Do you understand what that could mean?” Alpha Bronx scribbles down a note. ‘Pay her whatever it takes’ “Sister Mirabella, we would like to compensate you for your time and cooperation today. The offer stands to provide security services as well.”

Mysteria, the magical world of supernatural’s, a realm with the tallest mountains, luscious forests, and precipitous waterfalls. From werewolves and witches to orcs, this enchanted land is the birthplace of imagination. The mystical beings were all made by many different Deities, including those of Selene, Cerridwen, Ogrun, and Valkrim. They fashioned new life forms in their own image to coexist in the realm of Mysteria.

"Mystics like Darius don't just change shape. They can literally create multiple versions of themselves by splitting their essence across different dimensional planes." Miranda pulled out a scroll that seemed to glow with an inner light. "Here. The Codex of Dimensional Fracture. It speaks of mystics who can create what we might call 'echoes' or 'reflections' of themselves." Isla leaned in, her fingers hovering near the scroll. The writing seemed to move, the symbols shifting and rearranging themselves. "How do we stop something like that?" "There's always a source," Taylor said firmly. "A prime version. The original from which all others are created."