Novel & Cerita Once Burned Book

Division 24 The man looked confused. "The deaths? It has been peaceful in this area." Beatrice frowned. "How so." She mumbled to see a figure leave the church through the other door close to a burner. "Ha! Something is burning." She said, and the father turned to have his eyes widened. They both walked to the pulpit of the church and behold a book was on the burner while the fiery fire burned. Father Jude had gone to bring water to quench the fire and when the fire that had been burning was quenched, Beatrice squinted her eyes to see that three of the books in the burner had burnt to ashes but one had not burned..not a single scratch on its body.

He said it flat, almost rehearsed, like he'd practiced the sentence in the car on the way over so it wouldn't come out sounding as broken as it actually was. The apartment was quiet except for the sound of pages turning. Somewhere down the hall, I could hear the faint hum of the refrigerator, ordinary and out of place against the weight of what we were holding. George read over my shoulder, his jaw tightening with every page. "This isn't just leverage against you, Darian. This is a live confession of a crime. If this is accurate, Selena poisoned you deliberately, over years, and your mother buried it instead of reporting it."

The path to freedom was clear and direct. In murderous rage, I pierced my claws into the palm of my right hand, hovered it over the last remaining shreds of the book and watched Vincent's eyes glaze over with tears. I uttered a single word, "Burn." And the book caught on fire the moment drops of my blood from the cut I made on my palm came into contact with it. In Vincent's absentmindedness, with his gaze still pinned on the burning book, everything slowed down before me. I moved faster than the law of time permitted, over to where he knelt with a sorrowful expression as he watched the remains of the book become ash.

It wasn’t male either. It was both. And neither. And it knew him. He slammed the book shut. The flames on the torches flickered. > “Someone’s protecting her. Someone older than any of us.” Alex turned to leave—but before he did, he noticed one book... tucked deep into the wall, half-hidden behind a cracked obsidian skull. Its title glowed faintly: “The First-born Flame: Records of the One Who Watched the Moon.” He reached for it. But the moment his fingertips touched the leather, the runes around the library pulsed—and the book… vanished.

Mariah asked, “If it’s dangerous, why to keep it?” Immediately a fire started right at the heart of the book causing Anna and Mariah to gasp, leaning back as Abigail watched the fire Ena had started right in between the pages of the book till it died out. Ena put her hand down withdrawing the fire, "it has been tried, but as you can see, it can't be destroyed. This is not a regular book. This is not just dark magic," she replied and the witches were awed at the sight of the book which stood proudly the same as before.

"I told you, it was on the shelf in your study." Alexander's eyes snapped back to mine, "You shouldn't have been able to see it, talk less of touch it." A shiver ran down my spine as Alexander's words echoed in my mind. I stared at the book in my hand. What was so special about this burnt book? Is it more important than the fact that someone or something almost killed me? "Give me the scroll I gave you days ago?”

"My little Stefan, you are such a clever boy. Thank you, I think I will just do that." Before I burst out in tears, I follow Edward outside. The very hole that we stood over with the Windchaser boys where we burned the bodies of the Ancients is the same hole where Edward tosses every single page of the Book of Spells. It only takes him one flick of his hand, and it is set alight. We stand and watch as every corner of every page is burned to asses.

I had encountered so many struggles and setbacks, so many witches and humans alike in the course of studying the magical text for harnessing its magic. Martin's gaze shifted between me and the book beside him, its pages now devoid of the once potent words that had guided my journey. Without hesitation, I blinked at the parchment, and it ignited into flames, the flickering fire consuming the last remnants of its usefulness. "Why did you burn it?" Martin protested, his voice tinged with disbelief. "It serves me no longer," I replied coolly, my words laced with conviction. “I bet it could have been useful to another,” Martins persisted.

Betty filled my coffee cup. I wiped a crusty cluster of sediment from the corner of my eyes and mumbled, "Thank you." She gave me a sad smile and shuffled back into the stacks. I groaned, sipping coffee the consistency of motor oil. Time to get back to work. I sure as hell wasn't going to leave it alone. Not when I was so close to the answers I wanted. Fire brewed in my belly. I picked up the book in front of me. A demonology book. The history of incubi.

Then, just as she was about to close the book, a breez e stirred the pages. Even though the windows were shut. And on the floor beside her, burned into the hardwood — A single, glowing rune.