Mythical Stories Novels & Stories

Was she getting worked up? “It used to be,” Lilith continued, her voice taking on a harsher edge. “The gods walked among us. They would sit with us around the fire and tell us stories. Some were real. Some weren’t. As the gods stopped coming around, the oldest humans took over reciting the stories. We humans loved our stories. Over the ages, we realized the power in them. People changed their behavior to act like the heroes in the stories. Some the villains. Some tellers tried changing the stories or telling new ones, and the listeners changed their behavior to match. The tellers learned how easy it was to control the people simply by telling a story. While I was away, the men started tellin

Tears spring into my wolf eyes. She sits back down, picks up her comb and starst to comb her hair agin. "Let me tell you one of my favourite stories. Once there was a family, a family of great power and wealth. Because that family was from the very beginning of time, their powers were a mystery and many would say that they were the direct offsprings of the Moon Goddess. Do you know who they were?”

"I'm going to tell you a story, then the past shall be revealed to you" "Long ago",Anastasia began. "At the beginning of time, the moon goddess created the supernatural creatures. The centaurs, the faes, the fairies, the woodland creatures, the trolls and so many more. They were her children and they were kept in the Garden of Shannon.

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?

A myth, a story to give a man status beyond mortality. ‘Werewolves, Fae, Dragons, Mermaids-’ he starts and I hold up a hand, cutting him off. It’s too much. ‘You’re a werewolf?’ I stare at him.

The stories she had shared with Theo melded with the narratives of the dream realm, creating a kaleidoscope of tales that danced before her in a mesmerizing display. As she wandered through this fantastical land, Mama Hazel encountered creatures of myth and magic, each one a guardian of stories untold, a keeper of secrets waiting to be revealed. The characters she met whispered of forgotten tales, of hidden truths, and of the transformative power of storytelling that bound their fates together in an intricate dance of destiny.

Birdy nodded in agreement, "It is time for the ghost stories to begin and be spread. Stories of a pack of wolves that live nowhere but everywhere, who rescue the weak, broken, and unchampioned, taking those they rescue away with them and disappearing with no clues to who they are or where they came from." ​Three gods and one vampire nodded in agreement. "Let the fun begin. Go lay the groundwork to make the stories true when our wolves awake," Hyperion ordered. ​Cronos snickered, "This is going to be so much fun. I am glad Gaia is letting me loose to help lend credence to the stories." ​"What good are the stories without those needed to make them come true?" Bob wondered out loud.