Old Souls Novels & Stories

After hanging up, he hurried back to me and said to the elder, "Take some more." The elder told him that today's amount was already my limit. But he completely ignored the risk that I might just fade away on the spot if they continued. He put his hand on the elder's, his voice firm: "It's fine. She's a high-level healer, her soul core is much stronger than a regular Omega's. Isolde needs it urgently." My vision started to blur, my ears were ringing, and my soul felt like it was being pulled out of my body.

Sergei says, disbelief in his voice. "And yet… she has it," Roman replies, and his voice sends chills down my spine. Roman approaches and sits at the edge of the bed. It doesn’t bother me, not really, but I want to be closer too. I know my twin and our inner wolves Zek and Oak. So we move. We get closer, drawn to that impossible glow pulsing from her core. Roman gently gathers her in his arms and pulls the fallen strap of her pajama back up. It’s a small gesture, but she reacts.

If I find you, I’ll leave myself, in you somewhere there is my shore. You alone are what I remember. O' my SOUL... _______________________ Since the time I have passed through your door, I have started to laugh freely, You are the most precious gift from God... O' my SOUL... _______________________ The prayers of the heart went beyond the sky, It was then that I got you, O' my SOUL... _______________________ I found my SOUL in you. My world doesn’t exist beyond your arms, keep me here only,

Eight finished with a slight shrug, his face turned serious as he turned to face Olivia. " I've been planning my revenge for a long time and even now, I'm still not strong enough, if they discover you, you're minced meat" Olivia sighed. " I'm a soul twin, I and Daera" Eight's expression shattered, he didn't tell them the whole truth. " It's more dangerous than you think, even in Green city, there are soul slayers and prowlers everywhere" Olivia gently patted Eight's shoulder, it was something she had come to realize that everyone in the camp of the undead had a story of thier own.

"I won't let them harm us." Aunt Cleo's voice sliced through the air like a warning bell, her words laced with urgency and gravity. "Aqua, you need to grasp the true threat of the coven. They're not just ordinary casters. Each possesses unique abilities, ranging from unnaturally swift regeneration and inhuman strength to the sinister power to manipulate creatures and even people, turning them into spies. Some even boast of an unnerving form of immortality, extending their lives far beyond the natural order. And worst of all, they have the terrifying capability to absorb the powers of other casters."

"He’s a mess, and he smells like a grave, but he’s alive. That’s more than most people get in this valley." "He doesn't have a soul, Runa," I choked out, the tears finally breaking through. "The Council... they didn't just break him. They emptied him." "Then we'll fill him back up," Sola said, her voice unusually firm. She reached into her pouch and pulled out a small, dried flower—a lavender sprig from the Deep Woods. "Our people have stories of the Hollowed. They say the soul doesn't leave; it just hides in the deepest shadows where the pain can’t reach it. We just have to go in and find it."

WARNING: SYSTEMIC OVERRIDE DETECTED. The blue waveform of the Admin spiked on the terminal above my head. Kael’s digital shadow manifested across every screen in the Grand Hall, his white-light eyes wide with a frantic, digitized terror. “Leo, stop!” Kael’s voice boomed through the speakers, the baritone crackling with static. “The Well of Souls is saturated with necrotic silver-salt and the marrow-rot of the Failed. It isn't just water. It’s the liquid remains of every broken core the Council ever harvested.”

“But we need a system. We can’t personally midwife every happy memory in the territory.” As if summoned by our despair, Neri padded into the green. She’d been keeping her distance since the mountain, but news traveled fast among wolves. “The Old Ones in the deep wood,” she pulsed. “The trees that were saplings during the Breaking. They remember. They are full of slow, green memories. Not all are happy. But they are strong. They are anchors.” The trees. Of course. Living witnesses.

"The Old Ones are coming. I sent them a message when we entered your system." Jack felt a chill. "Who exactly are the Old Ones?" "They are... complicated." Aria-7 closed her eyes briefly. "In your supernatural hierarchy, you have werewolves, vampires, witches, and other species. All of them carry traces of Origin Blood, diluted over millennia. The Old Ones are the source. They are the pure Original bloodlines that seeded your world with supernatural potential." "They're the first werewolves? The first vampires?"

Not quite a shadow. The Pale One smiled — faint, knowing. “You shouldn’t be here,” it said, voice carrying the echo of a thousand deaths. “I could say the same,” Soreth replied, though his throat was dry. “You shouldn’t exist.” The Pale One tilted its head. “And yet, here we both are. Two ghosts searching for the same truth.” “What truth?” “The one your masters buried.” The Pale One’s form flickered — now nearer, close enough for Soreth to see the faint shimmer of symbols written across its skin. “The Soulbound were the price of your immortality. You just forgot who paid it.”