Miraculous Ephemeral Novels & Stories

Rhydian's shoulder trembled from the impact. "He keeps getting stronger," Rhydian muttered. Seraphine looked toward the Creator. "There must be another way." "There is." The Creator slowly raised one hand. A single beam of white light descended from the heavens. It landed between Kael and Lucien. The light slowly formed into a mirror. It was old. Its silver frame was cracked. Its surface shimmered like water. Lucien froze. His expression changed instantly. "No." The Creator spoke softly. "Look."

I remain silent during this process, still not sure what to think about this situation. “Oh, this isn’t good.” Axel exclaims, checking his phone. “I have an alert, the police are looking for a fugitive with telekinetic abilities who may be able to identify a high-risk Abnormal known as a ‘Mimic’.” He looks confused and turns to Myah, “Do you know what a Mimic is?” He asks. She doesn’t show any reaction but simply states; “I can’t think of anything relating to that, CC?” Myah looks towards her sister for a further response,

To something much, much bigger. Ethereal took a step back, fading slightly, her form beginning to dissolve into smoke and starlight. “You must wake now,” she said. “They will need you. The smoke will fade soon, and with it, my reach.” “Wait!” I called, heart racing. “Will I see you again?” She smiled—not kindly, not cruelly. Just… eternally. “Only when you are ready to remember everything.” And then The temple collapsed into light. Everything turned white once more.

The grief of being weak as he waited for the evil men to shoot his family. His life fleeted before him and he was there spectating it all over again. "Life is ephemeral like the wind in a stormy day," he couldn't help but be poetic. With his words, in this mysterious place, a gust of wind appeared out of nowhere and blew with it the scent of spring, and it was immediately gone like a popping bubble without sounds.

Without other friends around, Candice had become somewhat reclusive, only venturing out once a week to buy groceries. She didn't have the desire to go out herself, as she had no friends and no pressing matters. The only time she ventured out recently, she couldn't help but notice the massive promotional poster for Aether Corporation. Aether Corporation’s headquarters differed from its branches. Its scope was broader; it was not limited to finance but also extended to other economic undertakings. One day, when the weather in Solaris was unexpectedly clear, she accidentally bumped into the full-length mirror in her room while airing out some clothes. The waist-high full-length mirror wobbled f

Dust motes swirled around him as he flipped to the chapter on witches. "The Witch's Allure," he read under his breath, "a natural pheromonal magic that enhances a witch's charisma. While often mistaken for deliberate enchantment, the allure is an involuntary trait..." An involuntary growl rumbled in his chest. Involuntary. Meaning Rita wasn't doing this to him on purpose. Meaning his father was wrong about— The page tore under his fingers. Nathan cursed, smoothing the parchment. His eyes caught on a footnote at the bottom: See also: Fated Bonds for cases of supernatural attraction overriding species instinct.

Her heart skipped. “When it reached one hundred…” “You were supposed to leave the world.” “Why?” “To prevent attachment from becoming control.” Elara's eyes filled with tears. “So all those people…” “They were never meant to be temporary.” “They were meant to be choices.” “Yes.” The broken mirror began glowing. A countdown appeared. 23:59:59. Elara stared. “What happens when it reaches zero?” The reflection looked toward Elias. “The fifth world will open.” “And then?” “The four worlds will become separate again.”

Not from injury—but from surrender. She turned away. “I can’t do this.” “You can,” the reflection said. “You already have.” The mirror pulsed again. And without touching it— Seraphina was pulled through. — She landed hard on smooth stone, but the air here wasn’t real. It shimmered like a dream, smelled like lavender and flame. A sky stretched above her with stars that pulsed like breathing hearts. The ground below was etched with hundreds of runes, glowing faintly in a circle that surrounded her.

Cassian had looked at her with indifference then, his jaw set in that unbreakable line, as though he had already decided she would never matter. Two months. The cruelest number in the world. And yet, in some twisted way, those two months were her only thread of hope. Hope that something might shift, that fate might weave a different pattern. Her breath trembled as she whispered, “Miracles don’t happen in the Drevane household.” Clarisse looked at her for a long moment, her expression unreadable, before answering softly, “Sometimes, Amara… miracles are not given. They are made.” The words sank into her like stones falling into deep water.

“This realm exists between worlds. It is the anchor point for all immortality magic. Now that you have awakened, you are linked to it.” Seraphine swallowed. “Meaning?” “You can never fully return to the mortal plane.” The words sliced through her chest. Lucien’s face flashed in her mind. His voice. His touch. His smile. Her knees weakened. “I have to go back,” she whispered. The Guardian’s expression softened. “You can. Briefly. Under the moon. When the veil thins.” “How long?” “Minutes. Perhaps hours.” Seraphine’s heart shattered. “Then I’ll watch him die anyway.”