Myth Stories Novels & Stories

Asking about it again was like setting herself up for a teasing Kihara cleared her head. Lady Walter was talking. “Humans have their myths and folklores.” Lady Walter was saying. Kihara nodded, smiling as her thoughts caught up to the new topic. Werewolves used to be one of those myths, until they -humans- found out the creatures are not only born of the imagination, they actually existed. “Well, so do werewolves.” At Kihara’s look of surprise, Lady Walter scoffed. “What? You don’t think we have our own stories that we tell our children? Every culture has it’s own boogie man to scare the kids into behaving. We had ours.”

Aurora's words dropped off as she thought. "Water comes up often in myths, Your Majesty. I read earlier about a River of Life." Birger rummaged around and pulled out two books. He opened the first and found the correct page. "Here!" Then the councilman opened the second book. "And this one speaks of a waterfall that renews the earth." "We all need water to live," Aurora reasoned. "It would make sense that people would make up stories about such a necessity." Birger frowned, "But every myth grew out of a grain of truth, or at least what someone believed to be true. What if the fountain, the waterfall and the river… what if these places of healing really exist?"

I found my Mate " What!!.. Your Mate is human " " I saw them.. in the depths of the forest.. It is not a myth as I thought " " Its place is in my arms and not among these idiots there! .. and they are not a fairy tale. The werewolf is a pervert.. There are many legends that are told and no one believes them. There are many myths that everyone thinks are myths. Only myths that parents tell their children to scare them.. So that they don't leave the house and stay safe..

Before there were doors between worlds, there were stories. They whispered from hearth to hearth and ship to ship— of wolves that ran like midnight wind, of foxes with nine tails and nine more tricks beyond that, of fae who looked like carved moonlight and smiled like knives. Humans loved those stories—as long as they stayed in books and bedtime. The moment a story breathed, the moment a pair of eyes glinted from a tree line or a shadow stepped out of the corner of a room, humans did what humans do best when they’re afraid.

The way he explained it in detail, barely pronouncing the words right because of his missing teeth amazed me. " Luke, you know what a myth is," " No." " Well these are stories that are fabricated to explain certain things, I could create one, you could create one, as long as it can answer the question why, or try telling us why something is the way it is." " Like here, why the sun and moon are the way they are," he conquered.

She had never traveled anywhere, not out of travel jitters, but out of lack of opportunity. So, Era settled into her position and waited for Dom's story with a plate of healthy vegetarian snacks in front of her. "Alright. It seems like you all want to hear about my experiences so far. So, I won't disappoint you," Dom said, rubbing his hands together in excitement. He briefly cleared his throat before continuing with a smile that never left his face. "To start with, I'm going to tell you about some myths I've heard during my travels, and the first interesting myth I want to share with you is about our existence as werewolves. Specifically, it's about our origin."

’ He sniffled. ‘Maybe I can find a way to fix that, too,’ I muttered, scanning the pages of an ancient, dusty book I’d found buried in Moon Chasm’s library. I didn’t find anything. There were old fairy tales, so old they barely seemed recognisable anymore, that spoke of affronted gods casting down their children and making the first wolves. Some were classic tales, like the one about three pups going too near a river and being turned into toads to save them from drowning; others were cautionary tales, warning young wolves away from humans and forbidding any sort of romances between us and them – all in a fun, rhyming sort of way, of course.

And right now, she's reading Michael's birthday present to her: Greek Myth and Legend. Feet up, stretched out on the settee in front of the fire, she couldn't look happier.... Well, maybe there's one way.... I nudge up her feet to sit beside her. "Which story are you reading?" "The one about how Heracles wrestled with Achelous and broke off his horn and created the cornucopia.... The horn of plenty." She dimples happily and there's a merry little twinkle in her eye. Is that some kind of hint?

Whattt? You are a pretty ass bad bitch! Are you sure ayo would be able to keep his hands to himself? Use a condom sha.🚶‍♀️🚶‍♀️😑 I am not ready to be a godmother. Bel. godmother kor.🙄🙄 Me nko?🙄🙄 You wan dey whine cultist?😕😗😒 Amara don't use condom o. It's more enjoyable without a condom.🚶‍♀️🚶‍♀️

In the evenings, around the hearths of home, we teach the rules by which we share this world with the brethren through story. Tales of lovers separated by misfortune, the vain punished with disfigurement, of knights enchanted into forever sleep, and of princesses locked into towers. We seek out Seers to foretell the future, and mages to bespell swords, but are wary of the Fae with their costly altruism and deceptive beauty, the mischief of household imps, and sirens who sing ship to wreckage.