Novelas y relatos de Mistborn Elend

Elara, with a serene smile, spoke words that echoed through the cosmic threads, "Your journey is endless, Morekish. There are realms yet unexplored, and the cosmic balance requires guardians like you to traverse the unknown." With determination in his heart, Morekish embarked on a new phase of his odyssey. The mountain ash glowed with an otherworldly radiance, illuminating the path ahead. His allies from the cosmic alliance dispersed, each returning to their respective realms, and Morekish, accompanied by Elara, ventured into uncharted territories.

Opening the book to the first page, his fingertips brushed lightly over the beautiful italic-style script. 'The Erelim was confused. Maybe it's because I look like my father, I don't know. As I said, I did go to the Vaults, but I didn't go with a maledicti like you.' He looked up at me, his gaze cautious. 'The maledicti he was referring to was my mother. She was an Endorian. Like you are.' 'An Endorian?' The unfamiliar word sounded strange on my tongue as I repeated it. 'But what is that and what makes an Endorian different to an ordinary maledicti?'

However, maybe it was, in reality, the scheme of the Fates, a lesser being than the Creator but a separate element with the gods, for the ruin to arise. The odds were made possible by an elf named Jilroid. He was a powerful member of the aristocracy and a dreadful leader. He was deceitful, vain, self-centered, and greedy. He was fortunate enough to have a wife, named Estelel, even though it was through a fixed marriage. But he ignored and mistreated her. Neglected, his wife stumbled upon the human world and met a mortal. Unlike her husband, the mortal was kind and giving. They secretly met up many times before they fell love. They planned to get away and build a family of their own, in a pla

“I’ll give you the honor to know me before you die since I am quite amused how all of you still hasn’t cried your eyes out in the sight of me, “Dear white mahò users, I am the Seventh Milieus Executive from the Seven Tables, Taraya who wields the ender voice. And if you still don’t understand you are trapped in my attribute. Gone are your communication outside and no help will be coming. When you get out here, it would be as corpse,” she explained like she was a professor lecturing her students. Nellie felt like her head was cracking, the pain was immense that she could not help but kneel down and let out a whimper.

“Hold it? This isn’t a fortress—it’s a tomb.” “Then we make it theirs,” Mireya said coolly. A dark figure appeared at the treeline, his silhouette unmistakable—tall, broad, his cloak dragging through the frost. Behind him, an army of wolves in half-shifted form fanned out across the ridge. Eryndor. He stepped forward with measured calm, his amber eyes glowing faintly under the silver sky. “Kaelen,” he called, his voice carrying easily through the still air. “Still standing, I see. How stubborn.”

the girl in pigtails explained. "About three thousand people died in that town because of the sudden calamity. The military forces are trying to figure out their purpose for going that far as summoning a tidal wave, forcing the flow of nature against it's own. But we've heard...," she said and leaned towards Iktanne's ear and whispered, "... we've heard a few days ago in the library from the proctors that the Giants were collecting gold and souls from the normals. They said that there was an insignia left on the shores of the north... which might cause a great trouble because it links back here in the Academy and the Empire."

I'm close enough that I can hear a few snippets of conversation, and another guy, a little older that Elias steps forward to greet him. "Better late than never," he quips, and even by the firelight I can tell this must be Damien. He has the same eyes, the same hair, and the air of authority that I imagine only an Alpha can carry. "You know me," Elias jokes back. "Always fashionably late." Damien flashes him a wry smile and the rest of the pack chuckle quietly. But as my eyes scan the crowd, I spot one unsmiling face.

I took another sip anyway. The tent buzzed faintly beyond the open flap—voices, armor, the crackle of fire. It wasn’t a palace, but it was alive. My people were alive. I should have felt something like joy. Instead, it came as a dull ache, sitting behind my ribs like an uninvited guest. “How long?” I asked quietly. “Since Eldoria fell,” Miren said. “We’ve rebuilt what we could. Waited for a sign.” I blinked at her. “What sign?”

The Vicious experiences still linger in his memories causing him to cower even more and pray. "Esteemed Shaman?... What is going on?…!!!!!!…War Apostle…This is…". (Xing) "Tri-Nation road…Looks like we will be going on a death Trip….To the Desert Of Nothing….". (Leko) As a Dark Elf Leo was 150 years old, He knew the Desert Of Nothing as Elvemoir his home country was also border with the place. The place was famous with rumors of treasures, Nobles, and riches often making a campaign to explore the cursed place. But it always has the same ending, Failure for the Nobles and Death for anyone that follows In the campaign.

She answered with flame and thunder. "I am the last fire. I am the fury you buried. I am the Queen of what you tried to break." And she unleashed everything. A final blaze. A fury older than empires. A promise. The rift collapsed, imploding on itself with a shriek like a dying star. The sky sealed shut. The shadows vanished. Morvani was no more. And Elara fell. But the fire caught her. It cradled her, carried her down through the soot-filled air, laying her gently onto the fractured plaza where her people waited.