Myth Stories Short Novels & Stories

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..

Sanket asked They all nodded. "then I'm successful in it. I'm a good story teller." Sanket jokes "now you all go to sleep it's late night," Mishika said They all nodded and went to their rooms. "Why did you tell them this story, Sanket? They don't need to know about our past." Khwaish said and Mishika noded "I didn't tell them that it's true. I just shared It as a story that will help them in future. Now come on don't waste time you have to check on Ekansh as well if he need something or not," Sanket said

HA! You only get one life. Follow your dreams. NEVER APOLOGIZE for setting a goal and coming up with a plan to achieve it. I will help you. I promise. If I’ve learned anything in life, it’s that we only get one. Life is short. And no matter how hard you try to soak in each day, today is the only day that’s promised. Yesterday is for memories and learning. And tomorrow is never promised. Don’t live in fear, sweet girls. Fear is a liar that will steal your joy. So live each day with love for others, love for yourself, and faith in something bigger than yourself.

He let out the friendliest of smiles, making Anderson very uncomfortable. Anderson stared back and forth between Suit and the scroll. His mind was racing. The contract sounded simple enough. Straightforward, but he did not understand. ‘What did he mean by survive the stories? Did he not say I was going to tell a story? What does survive the story mean?’ Question after question popped up into his head. He could not help himself. He had no idea exactly what it meant, but one thing was for certain; He would not move forward if he did nothing but constantly question the situation

Golden doors that never opened from the inside. The stories came from Freya. Every night before bed, her mother would tell her about the world before King Valir. About streams that sang through ancient trees. About fairies who slept beneath mushrooms. About wolves that watched from a distance but never harmed the Ronas. About Ronas who grew flowers because they loved beauty—not because people paid fortunes to own it. Maya used to beg for the stories over and over again. She wanted details. What color were the houses? How tall were the trees?

I stopped mid-sentence, whilst telling Maha some story about my clinic; when I heard Sahar baji ask. "Uh..." That was the only thing that came out of my mouth combined with the utter blank look. "Yeah Noor. How many poor guys have you rejected so far?20? 30? 40???" Maha asked with a teasing grin. I turned my gaze away sheepishly.

And maybe in the end I'll succeed. The ideas have never stopped flowing, and amidst the difficulties, I've gathered them together to tell even more stories. I have a notebook full of ideas, story segments just waiting for the right piece to fit into. I've conceived many new universes. I have a love story planned that I hope will make your heart skip a beat, between two young people wounded by the world. A horror story that I hope will take your breath away, with its demons. A fantasy that I hope will transport you to a world of mysterious creatures and strange rites.

I know that sounds a bit childish but after the day I had yesterday I thought I deserved that few seconds of release. I started to wonder last night before bed if the Moon Goddess was punishing me for something I did, but I thought long and hard and couldn’t come up with one thing that would cause her to punish me. I also tried to remember all the stories my mother had told me about the white wolves when I was a child. The stories my mother would tell me seemed more like a fairy tale bedtime story nothing that was a real-life story.

Seeing that she would not give up from siding the night roamer, he decides to tell her a story to compliment her belief. “You know, according to our popular children stories, some believe he is a handsome prince from a far away kingdom made of gold, and enchantment and magic. While others believes he is a demon that haunts evildoers and people of little conscience until they give up their evil ways, or pay for their sins with blood” He narrates, captivating her attention. “Tell me more please?” She pleads with irresistible eyes. “You are in luck, as I am a lover of myth!” he gestures towards a dry piece of log just opposite them.

Those stories of wars were just myths to them, unless someone brought you in, like Cassandra. Just when I’m ready to give up, I find a story from around twenty years ago about a teenager saving a woman from a monstrous beast.