Old Novel Novels & Stories

Through the frosted glass, I could faintly make out her silhouette—the curve of her body, water trickling down her smooth skin. Claire opened the shower door. Seeing it was me, she quickly covered herself. "Noah! What are you doing? Get out!" "Claire, why have you been avoiding me these past few days? Didn’t you promise to be my girlfriend?" "No… Noah, I can’t. I’m 18 years older than you!" "So what? I don’t care about that!" I said, stepping closer and pulling her into a tight embrace. She struggled weakly for a moment before giving in.

"There. Those appear to be the most ancient literature. We combed through old writings for hours, searching for any mention of shadow realms or lost pack members. I was about to give up when Hardin gave me a call. "Delicious! Take a look at this. I ran over. He held an old journal, the pages yellowed with time. "What is it?" Glancing over his shoulder, I questioned. It is a diary, he declared. From more than a century prior. Take a listen to this: "The shadows get darker every day." More members of our pack vanish and then reappear altered. The elders talk about an evil from long ago rising, but they won't do anything about it. I worry that it might be too late for everyone.

“You would think people would find a better-tasting hangover cure since your ancient college days.” “Are you calling me ancient?” I ask as I slip into the bed beside her. “Yes, but I love your ancient butt. Can I open my eyes now?” “Yeah.” She opens her eyes and looks at me. “How do you feel?” “Better. Thank you, your vintage cure worked.” “Vintage? You called it ancient a minute ago.” “Ancient is outdated. Vintage never goes out of style, and that’s what you are.” I smile as I lean in, kiss her forehead, and wrap her in a tight embrace.

Most of the Everwood textbook on the 10,000 years old history that was covered in many textbooks was all destroyed at once, according to this textbook I read. "Everwood 10,000 years old history that was written in many textbooks and the history itself, was gone after the darkness won the war. The darkness being the only one who knows all the 10,000 years and being around along with the darkness, re-wrote the history themselves. The darkness wrote only what they know of the history, the new textbook after all the old one was gone, wrote a textbook that covers 5 years of history. The darkness say that the other history was long forgotten"

The air in the garden was thick with the scent of ozone, warm honey, and crushed mint—the distinct, intoxicating fragrance of over-saturated mana. Queen Aurelia walked beside her daughter, carrying a thick, leather-bound book that she had rescued from the ancient vaults of Goodnovel, the oldest and most closely guarded repository of pre-cataclysmic history in the realm. Aurelia tilted her golden spectacles, a frown of deep thought etched on her brow as she compared the shimmering, mutated silver thorns of a nearby rose bush to the yellowed parchment of the ancient tome.

The room is so quiet I can hear the soft flicker of the candle wicks drowning in hot wax. "What is this?" I ask, my breath catching in my throat. "This is the history of your family, Aurora," the elder says, his voice a reverent whisper that seems to vibrate through the stone floor beneath us. I look at the faded silver ink shimmering faintly against the dark parchment. The writing isn't written in the standard script used by modern packs; it’s rendered in the sweeping, intricate calligraphic runes of the Old Language. My heart begins beating with a sudden, tense curiosity, a rapid thudding against my ribs that echoes the growing dread in my stomach.

Morgan used different phone numbers to text me. The content of his messages was about the same each time. "I've cooked your favorite dish today. Only now do I know how much it hurts to get hot oil on your hands. I'm sorry. "The weather's really dry. I've made something to drink, but it isn't as good as the one you used to make. "I've gotten into the habit of heading home at 10:00 pm to sleep. You've always told me to head home on time, remember?

Fyn wondered what Kavan meant when he said, 'This mortal. One by one, the Nǣps emerged from their holes in the ground. Like how it did when they jumped down, the ground seemed to close once they were up in the air. A Nǣp who seemed taller and bigger than the rest approached Fyn slowly, its eyes downcast to the ginkgo fruit. "This... ginkgo, this is the first time we have seen them. This is the first time we foraged this side of the forest. Be honest, mortal. Is our youngling going to die?" Kavan surprised all of them by kneeling just in front of the Nǣp, "I have told you, there is nothing in this forest that is harmful. There must have been a mistake somehow."

Found more bodies. Discovered evidence of a hastily abandoned camp. Found claw prints on structures that were too high for any creature to reach. And they found a message. Carved into the wall of the old general store. THE OLD ONES WAKE. THE SEAL BREAKING WAS JUST THE BEGINNING. Clara felt her blood run cold. "The old ones?" "I have heard stories," Marcus said slowly. "Legends. About creatures that existed before Silverbloods. Before the first packs. Things that were sealed away so long ago most thought they were myths." "But they are not myths," Clara said. "No. They are not."

She learned nothing new from books dating back to the 19th century at the oldest. She found the book she wanted not in a library. It was crammed in piles of one of the Block 71’s book vendors. A dilapidated book–with pages torn–containing ancient tales. The bookseller elf, in a gown, asked for a book so thin a price that nearly forced her soul out of her body. “A dirty secret vampires don’t want to see another daylight,” she laughed.