Mongolian Myths Novels & Stories

Jared revealed, Aghogho giggled, he took one step towards Jared, “Are you talking about the history book of the Beast kingdom written by a so called ancient Forest Nymph, where the Beast in the bottomless hole is located? See you. It was all a lie, the stories, Dragons, the Beast in the bottomless hole. They are all fables we say to our cubs at moonlight stories.” “Are we? Are we fables?!” Jared asked. Aghogho groaned suddenly his appearances changed as he grew bigger, wilder and hairier, his nails grew sharper and his canine teeth also as he thudded towards Jared.

he says happily, as I watch him open one of the gigantic double doors to my left. Inside I could see the beautiful lush deep purple rugs, and the fabrics, and amazing furniture some of which I have never seen the likes of anything before. Beautifully carved into wood, you could see the different dogs….or where they wolves perhaps….and mythical creatures, I see a person with wings..? A fairy? Dragons, and mermaids, all of these creatures, are mythical, they don’t exist.

But now, I was glad I did, because one way or the other, there was always an atom of truth in myths. “You are talking about…myths?” A scoff left my lips, as I gazed down to stare at my open palms. “They're not myths.” “Come on Arias. Gryms are midnight stories told to young wolvens to scare the crap out of them.” The vein on the side of my neck bulged, and my teeth gritted against each other. It took everything I had to not fling something dangerous at his head. Although, I was sure he'd sidestep it, it was worth a try.

She asked, encouragingly of him, "...sooo, tell me, professor Mourhollow… if the harpies all whisper about werewolves as monsters, why do I sense you don't agree?" Sheepish and shy as ever, Corvin's mouth curved in that faint and knowing way of his. "Simple, really. That's because all myths and legends are true, but so often they come from misunderstandings. You know how court mothers frighten their fledglings with tales of werewolves gone mad, tearing through villages?"

I asked frowning, I have never heard about this. Ray laughed, “ It was in the bedtime stories, my mother and granny used to recite them to us to make us scared of going out in the middle of the night. you know how pups are! As soon as they start shifting that’s what they all want to do for a long time. The male pups even go out at night to run through the woods. So to keep me and my brothers safe, my mother and granny told us this myth. How at night a creature who is not man nor beast roams the landing of woods and if pups go there, he will eat them.”

I said. "Don't you?" His smile was cold. "Then let me educate you. The Moonstone is an artifact of immense power, created by the Moon Goddess herself when she first blessed wolves with the ability to shift. It contains the essence of the original wolf magic—pure, uncorrupted power." "That's a myth—" "Is it? Then explain why you've been dreaming of ancient temples. Of silver wolves running beneath a blood-red moon. Of a stone that calls to you in a language you don't understand but somehow know."

I knew that mom wouldn't stay with us longer if we didn't treat her quickly. But to be honest, deep inside we all knew, there was no cure for her. The damages in her body wouldn't be healed. But still everyday we kept aside all of our worries and enjoyed our precious moments together wishing someday the tale of the mystic spring would come true and heal everything. I laughed inside at my own thoughts. In our nursery book, we would read the rhymes about the mystic spring. It was an old wolf myth. Wolves believed that awakening of the mystic spring would kill the darkness and bring back the souls and reigns by lightening the world.

said Leon. "Look at this," Leon said as he typed something on his keyboard. Suddenly an image appeared on the largest monitor screen. “There are still many monsters in The Myth that haven't appeared. While in The Myth, we only face a few monsters, right? The rest of it focuses on illusions, hallucinations, delusions, whatever," said Leon. The screen displays pictures of monsters in mythology. “Dragons, chimeras, fire birds, cerberos, there are many more that have yet to appear. Do you know why?" asked Leon.

It made Havel’s staff creak as he leaned on it. “That's a myth,” Elder Varr said quickly, a hand pressed to his chest like a prayer against choking. “Moonstone is an old story to frighten children. It binds nothing but superstition.” “Is it?” I echoed. “You tell me that and the way your voice dips when you pass the old shrine tells me you still glance at the shadow of the thing.” I did not mean to spit, but the syllable came out sharp. My pack had worn our myths like armor for centuries. We had shaped law around fear. To admit the stories influenced us was to admit we were not the masters we claimed to be.

I reminded. “Exactly.” He agreed. “Now, here is the point. Like I told you yesterday, the young lady in your dream is your mother. Your mother is white wolf, and so did everyone you saw. The white wolves are said to be rare species, most people say they are direct decendents of the moon goddess. Well, the Red Lotus is what they call them. They hated the Moon goddess after what happened to their ancestors. So, in order to revenge for their ancestors, they took the decision in their hands to eliminate the white wolves and end the existence of the moon goddess.”