Miraculous Truth Novels & Stories

That very day we ordered our second Christmas miracle. END

“I’m so dead. Again.” The mirror shimmered faintly. Seraphina’s reflection returned. “You cannot keep lying to him,” the spirit murmured. “He will sense the truth.” “Oh sure,” Mira said, voice muffled by the pillow. “I’ll just casually say, ‘Hey, by the way, your wife’s body is occupied by a woman from another world who ships you with your best friend.’ I’m sure that’ll go great.” Seraphina sighed. “Your humor is strange.”

The Broker materialized exactly as the clock struck twelve. “Guardian Kiera. Time for the second trial.” My stomach dropped. I’d hoped for more time. “What is it?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. “The Trial of Truth.” The Broker’s form shifted into something almost gleeful. “You passed the first trial through faith. But this trial requires something you find far more difficult… honesty.” A new portal opened beside it. Not swirling darkness this time, but something that looked like shattered mirrors reflecting things that shouldn’t exist.

“Good! That wasn’t so hard, was it?” She smiled sweetly at me and offered me juice. “Mira , you are getting consumed” I whispered. She snugged her shoulder and went back to her seat. A few seconds later, her facial expression changed. Before I could speak. Gerald walked in. “Harry?” He called me with a slight nod and a suspicious look. “Babe?” He looked at Mira who looked like she was being maltreated. There was a lot going on and for the first time, I was glad I found out the truth. She wasn’t anything like the innocent and simple woman I fell for.

As we ran, the whispers grew louder, memories flashing before our eyes — our first meeting, our shared challenges, and moments of pure love. Suddenly, the landscape shifted, and we found ourselves standing at the edge of a tranquil oasis. But this was no ordinary oasis. The water reflected not the sky, but fragments of our life — our joys, sorrows, victories, and defeats. Catching my breath, I looked at Alex. "Is this the Oasis of Truth?" He knelt, touching the water's surface. It rippled, unveiling deeper memories. "It seems to be, but there's more to it. It doesn't just show the truth; it seems to... feel."

“Every breath, every silence. Say too much, they’ll fear you. Say nothing, they’ll fear you more.” Killian looked past her to the Guild — fractured, whispering, teetering. His throat tightened. “What would you have me say?” Harlow’s gaze held his. Calm. Unflinching. “The truth. No more, no less.” Killian almost laughed at the simplicity of it. The truth — the one thing he couldn’t speak aloud. That the First’s whispers clawed at him. That every heartbeat threatened to drag him deeper. That he was one slip away from becoming the very weapon Varrow wanted.

And when she finally spoke, her steadiness was a bit discomforting. “Jane… sometimes the truth doesn’t break us. It only shows that we’ve been living broken all along, and it gives us the opportunity to shape ourselves into something whole.” I wanted to believe her. I wanted to believe that uncovering the truth about my mother, about HAB, about Nathan, about Julia, about all of it, would give me wholeness instead of dragging me down to my knees. But the fear inside me whispered otherwise. Back to the Present I opened my eyes at my desk and drew in a deep breath.

No, hundreds. All of me. Reflections — walking, moving, breathing — eyes blank, faces mine. The Mirror Protocol had copied me into flesh. Each version stepped forward, dressed in shards of black and white. They were perfect replicas, whispering the same phrase in perfect unison: “You cannot kill the truth.” Luca pulled me behind a crumbling pillar. “They’re not real, Amara!” “They bleed,” I hissed, pointing at one dragging a blade through its palm. Blood — red, warm, and real — fell to the ground. “They are real.”

I follow behind not so eager to reach there. Surprisingly they had soup today. Is it some kind of important day. When l was to reach the queue, the soup was said to have finished. I watched as everyone feasted. I hurriedly finished my food and laid done in our cells. I looked through the window with the aid of the moonlight seeing the stars as they shone bright, I made a wish, to wish For a better life, my life back a year ago I change sides only to force my wound on the floor, and it hurt l say. I whimpered loudly as l changed the other side.

a woman murmurs. She’s not talking about what just happened when she says Miracles. She’s talking about people—very special people. Radar is a Miracle. So am I. There are seven of us in the District. The name Miracle has nothing to do with Powers, though every Miracle but me has one. The name was given long before any Powers evidenced themselves. It was bestowed upon us at birth. Indeed, our births WERE the Miracle. We live in a world of dichotomies. There are the Befores and the Afters, there’s Inside and Outside, and most scarily, Here and There. There’s no dichotomy for the Miracles, though. We are singular, unique.