Novelas y relatos de Myths Stories

Marcia said, picking out pieces of fruit from the bowl close to her. “Well no one alive” Ley added, “Many stories that are deemed myth are purely so because none were left alive to continue the tale and document it.” “Yeah ok, maybe, I’ll leave the researching about those things for the librarians, I have my own research to do” Marcia replied, waving her hand dismissively. “The only thing you research are your loud canaries” Ley retorted with a booming laugh. “You son of a…” she began to snarl back when a noise from the doorway cut her off.

The night after her meeting with Faera, she stays at her room alone. Remembering the tale her mother repeated speaks of her, the myths of the dragon and the werewolves. One would think that it was just a story, however her being born is already one fact that the truth behind those myths are actually reality.

and looks into the sunset orange eyes of the fairy and continues:- Would you do me the favor of accompanying me for the rest of my short life in my dream of building a kingdom where every one of my races can be happy?The fairy accepted and the following days ran like the wind.With the help of the fairy, the boy traveled from village to village convincing them to move, bringing them together in one place, and delegating the different tasks that helped everyone equally, based on what they were good at.In a few years, the population increased and the village became a kingdom, the boy became a man and a king, the fairy became queen and mother of a beautiful and healthy prince with white hair an

Eros said. “Well, that’s just awesome. Not only am I a Goddess, excuse me, a New Goddess but there are also Werewolves and Vampires out there. Anything else I need to know?” I asked putting my head in my hands. I could feel a headache coming on. “Most Myths are real.” Hades said. “Thanks.” I said giving him my best side eye. “You’re welcome.” He said, not understanding my sarcasm. “Aria.” My sister warned.

Mary answered in the dorm of a question "Well my mum told me today that all stories and tales are sprinled with truth. And all the gods are real the moon goddess created us and assigned our wolves our mates and when we turn, I don't believe she would condem us if we believe in an alternative afterlife or maybe our afterlife is the same as the vikings and your nan's beliefs, we just don't know and probably never will until we die. That's why it's called an afterlife" I answered

"I've spent a lot on you, girl. This is a golden opportunity. If you ruin this set up, I'm sorry to say this, but I'm giving up on you as well. But, that would be after you pay me back for all I invested on you. Your clothes, hairdos, adornments… .." She spoke on and on, while Emma was already shivering in fear. Her mind drifted to her family. They were still owning some people, who claimed her father borrowed money from them before he died. She was still struggling with paying the so-called debt and couldn't bear to add another one to it. Patting her shivering shoulders slightly, "you can do it, Emma. It will change your family's situation as well….." She added those soft persuasions, after

“No, no television in her room but she has asked for one. I can only hold off for so long. What are we going to do?” “Nothing, not until I have spoken to Aria.” Athena raises an eyebrow at me and shakes her head in frustration, “You want this to happen.” “I have always wanted it to be like this. Where do you think stories of werewolves, Lycans and vampires come from? How do you think humans have these myths?” “Because they are not myths?!”

Fred said. Seth’s mouth dropped open as he heard Fred say all these things.” Goddess of death? That’s just a myth, no one ever encountered her, we were told stories about her when we were little and the story tellers clearly told us that she was a myth, coupled with other personalities.” Seth said.

It’s really uncomfortable to try to sleep when someone is doing a samba in your uterus. Rose shrugged. “There’s a lot like that because then you get the Cinderella stories, the knights in shining armor stories, and the healing stories.” “What’s wrong with a good Cinderella story?” Heather asked. “I adore them, and almost every culture has one or two that have been printed as beautiful children’s books.” “Nothing is wrong with a good Cinderella story,” Rose started. I interrupted her. “Except when the prince turns out to be a giant dick, but she can’t escape him because he’s the most powerful alpha and they’re fated mates.”

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.