Oblivion Legacy Lost Novels & Stories

“You know, you used to terrify half the Hollow.” “I still do,” Lilith smirked. They sat there for a while, planting in silence. And when they stood, the ashes behind them glowed faintly—not with fire, but with life. Atheira’s Legacy Back inside the Council tower, Kael stood alone before the old war map—a massive circular relic made of flame-hardened stone and obsidian etchings. The places marked in red were the battlefields of old. Most names had been updated, rewritten. But one remained untouched: Sanctum of the First Light.

The edges of reality groaned as the sanctuary ruptured, each crack in the air bleeding light and void in equal measure. Liora and Caelen stood at the edge of the fracture, hands locked, Solumbra pulsing between them. Behind them, the Echo King moved like a shadow set ablaze, And at their feet, Sera stirred, barely conscious, her body struggling to contain what little magic remained. “This is it,” Liora whispered. “We burn the legacy.”

The room seemed colder without her presence, but the terror and grief remained, lingering in the air like a poison. “Beth... we’re going to get out of here,” I whispered, my voice hoarse, but my words fell on deaf ears. The look on Beth’s face was distant, hollow. I could see the light in her eyes flickering out, her spirit fading with Simon’s death. She was broken, and I feared I was losing her too.

Boulder rumbled beside him, his tawny fur ruffled, the frost dusting his fur, the wind howling through the chamber, the sanctum a battlefield, the chill a test of their bond. Lila stood, her hazel eyes bright with relief, her voice steady, the wind howling through the chamber, the frost dusting her cloak, the sanctum a defeated fortress, the chill a distant threat. “The marrow god’s gone,” she said, her charcoal stick glinting in the dim light, Spark yipping beside her, the frost dusting her fur, the wind a howling challenge, the pack’s unity a warmth in the cold. “We’ve secured our legacy.” Her map was dusted with frost, the sanctum a reminder of their triumph, the chill a test of their cou

They had always been the children of legacy, the prophecy no one spoke aloud but everyone expected to unfold. And now—now—that same legacy curled inside her. Unasked for. Unplanned. Unwanted, maybe, by its own father. But alive. What a cruel trick. Adrain’s betrayal still stung, deep and quiet, like frostbite in summer. But the child inside her? That wasn’t a mistake. That was blood. Old blood. Strong blood. Hers. And maybe that’s what scared her most. Because what if this child inherited the worst of both of them?

"Is that what you thought? That sleeping with a woman would somehow rewire my brain? My heart? That you could fuck the gay out of me?" "No Lancaster man has ever had such desires before." His voice turns dangerously quiet, like the calm before a tornado. "Five generations of honorable men, building a legacy you seem determined to destroy." My hands clench into fists so tight my nails draw blood from my palms. "So that's it? I'm a genetic mistake? The first Lancaster to break your precious mold?"

“You’re holding a legacy older than you can imagine.” His words haunted me. Over the past few days, I had begun seeing things during training—visions, memories, *echoes*—whatever they were, they came unbidden. Cities built into the sides of mountains. Armies clad in silver and bronze. Rulers with glowing eyes lifting the orb high as nations knelt before them. Then, the same cities turned to ash. Armies slaughtered. Rulers turned mad, consumed by their own greed for the orb’s gifts. August called it “the remembering.” The orb shared its past only with those it trusted.

She had no idea what she was walking into tonight, but Astra had made it clear that answers were within reach. With the journal clutched in her hand, the leather binding warm against her skin, Isla moved to the door, casting one last glance over the room that had been her father’s legacy. Every corner of the clinic felt infused with his memory—his presence—his absence. The weight of her loss had never felt so heavy, so insurmountable. But tonight, it felt as though the veil was finally being lifted. She was about to step into a world she had never imagined. A world that might finally tell her what had happened to him.

Can you forgive me just once more? [Stop testing me, Beatrix. I promise I’ll marry you. Is that enough?]

The central screen blinked to life with a new message, red letters flashing: “Bridge Convergence in 48 hours. Hope Voss must choose: Unity or Destruction. The bloodline awakens.” The lights in the nursery flickered wildly. One of the pods cracked open slightly, a tiny cry echoing through the room. Damien pulled Mia and Hope behind him as energy crackled in the air. The legacy wasn’t coming anymore. It was already breaking free.