Myth Stories Novels & Stories

Today he helped her pour her water in the bath then sat back on his heels waiting for her to mix the bath salts and sink into the tub first before sliding closer to her. He held the edge of the tub and looked at her with adoring eyes. She came to understand that he did not desire her he merely thought she was the smartest and most beautiful person ever. He reminded her every time of Strukus who thought she held the world in her hands. She smiled at him. "What stories do you have for me today?" She asked him. "The story of the goddess and the god killer. They fell in love." She laughed. He always loved romantic stories. In his own world gods never fought they only fell in love and had childre

Leah also gave a look of disapproval. "Callie, I agree with them. I just wasted my time." I got up when I remembered that I was on my way to the garden. "What? Those stories are pretty lame, to begin with." "Not when nana tells them." The kids retorted. Nana arrived soon to tell a different version of the first werewolf that happened in Egypt where people considered shapeshifting a gift and not a curse. I grew up listening to nana's stories, about demon kings and dragon queens and all things fantasy. My all-time favorite was the story of my mother, except for the part where she dies.

One relieving thing about life is that everything happens for a reason and they are usually aimed for our good. No matter the situation one finds his or herself in, there’s always a tiny bit of God’s will in that situation; whether good or bad. It could be that God wanted to reunite Ace with his two sons and also strengthen his marriage union with Belinda. Things might have fallen out between the couple but one thing we can’t dispute is that the crisis also rekindled their stale and dying love for each other. Not to also forget, the crisis also brought two lovely brothers together and it was evident that they would eventually be in each other’s life once everything was settled between both p

And I knew what to offer him and how to word it. “If you tell me, I won’t touch you anymore.” Lennox smirked in triumph, and I stayed stoic and blank, letting him think he’d won. “You already know,” he said hoarsely. “You’ve known your whole life. We all know the tales, the stories, the myths. And all our stories are based on a bit of truth.” “The Goddess’s Tales,” Sebastian linked me, even though I didn’t need him to tell me. I already knew what Lennox meant, what he was referring to.

Unity and harmony flourished, and the beings of different realms came together, forming friendships and alliances that transcended boundaries. One day, as the hero wandered through the bustling streets of The Enchanted Realm, they encountered a group of young beings gathered around a storyteller. The storyteller was regaling them with tales of the hero's epic journey, the battles fought, and the sacrifices made. The young beings listened with wide eyes, captivated by the tale. "And that, my dear young ones," the storyteller said with a flourish, "is the tale of the hero who embraced their destiny and brought light to the darkest corners of The Enchanted Realm and beyond."

Clearing the bushes or something? I still remember my dad's stories weren't always right. Sometimes, he told me things that weren't true. Like the time he said that the moon goddess came to live among men and created the moonlight, and we were living under her shadow, but she had given it to all her people.

I left out all the Idris info to him, not knowing if my brother knows him or not. “A Phoenix Aurora? How did you know about them? No one ever speaks of them anymore since they have been extinct for so long.” He looks at me truly puzzled by what I have said. “You see a Phoenix is the Lord of all creation, before everything from the very beginning. Men invented books depicting of a “human god” the all mighty that made everything from nothing. This is not true. The Phoenix, is the most rare mythical creature to have ever lived. Noone has seen one in hundreds and thousands of years, they have the power to build life, the power of true creation. But alas, they have died out a victim of their own

Gabriel would kill me if he knew. “Well there are a lot of myths and stories told for so many generations and cultures I’d like to believe those kinds of things are true. There are dragon stories from Chinese mythology and then you have the medieval knights fighting dragons. Sometimes I wish I was there to witness for myself what these people were actually seeing for those kinds of myths to told for so long. It’s very interesting.”

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?"

“Why did you let Michael know you existed? Why did you have to stay on the boat? Why couldn’t you have stayed in the ocean where you belong and where none of us would be the wiser?” No adult in this world would have believed Michael’s story if it had come out. Adults never did. Eventually, Michael would have forgotten about her or have come to think of her as an odd dream he’d had as a child— after all, who didn’t believe in mermaids and fairies and unicorns at some point in their lives? It had happened before. That was how the myths had started in the first place. Some Human had written down a child’s recol¬lection and called it a fable.