Order To Read Chronicles Of Narnia Novels & Stories

I murmured against her mouth, unable to resist teasing her. Her lips curved into a smile. "You'll do." She leaned comfortably into my shoulder, turning the chronicle so I could see it. Her soft voice began to read a passage about ancient pack alliances and territory divisions. "This chronicle's really good," she said after a moment. "You should read it when you have time." I slumped deeper into the couch, rubbing my brow with an exaggerated sigh. "There are endless territory reports and pack councils at the holdings. There's no one as good at avoiding duties as Luna Winters!"

She turned the pages and then picked another, sweeping the collection of worn books and scrolls aside with her hands. Finally, she settled her eyes on the one below, withdrew it from the shelf, and walked to me. "Read," she whispered. I hesitated for a moment before picking it up. The paper felt fragile under my hands. My eyes scanned the printed letters, and my breath caught. A list of names Sienna’s was among them. So was mine My grip became tighter. "What is this?" Isolde’s voice was soft, verging on pity. "A chronicle of the lost."

“You shouldn’t be here alone.” “I needed to see it,” I said quietly, stepping aside so he could view the broken display. “Ama was here. She took the Chronicle.” He paled. “That book hasn’t been touched in decades,” he murmured. “Not even the elders were allowed to read its full contents.” “She took it for a reason,” I said. “She’s not just playing games anymore. She’s digging.” Nathaniel walked to the case, running a hand over the shattered glass. “If she finds the second volume... the one hidden beyond the river—”

I basically just went through all the back cover description of the books and separated them according to importance, that way I knew which one to read when my mind is fresh and which one when I'm tired. I was done within minutes and decided to check on Leon's progress. He was doing the same thing. I don't know how he prioritized his. I on the other hand set aside the ones whose description hinted about locations and the council, and the rest were just stories and legends that hinted the swords existence. Some were just legends and myths that were used to either scare or install morals in kids.

I steadied myself, gripping the rungs tightly before letting out a long breath of relief. “Be careful!” Manolya scolded from below, though her tone was far more worried than angry. I didn’t seem fazed in the slightest. Instead, my eyes lit up with sudden curiosity as I peeked inside the book that had nearly knocked me out. The front page read: Beçin Chronicles: A History of the Byzantine Castle and its Mythical Beings. “It’s from the 1400s!” I exclaimed, my voice filled with pure excitement. Manolya could hear the frantic energy in my tone as I carefully flipped through the soft, worn pages.

I found out enough to understand that the triple crescent, the First, the Eternals, the Rage wolf…It was all connected. I could feel it in my bones…that tingling instinct that told me when I was on the right track. "Roric," I said without looking up from the page I was reading. "The section on ancient bloodlines. Third shelf from the top, left side. There should be a red-bound volume. Bring it to me." I heard him climb the ladder. His footsteps punctuated by the occasional creak of old wood. "You know," Roric called down, "most people would take a break after reading for six hours straight."

I can feel it. The words of Aria were soothing, and what she said was true. Odessa could feel herself becoming stronger each day. Simeon returned moments later, his face shining with a victorious smile as he came out of the darkness. A leather-bound book in his hands. This is it, my Luna. The Chronicle. Of our pack. It's said to hold the secrets of the ancient wolves. Ancient wolves. Odessa had heard of them. They had powers that we could only think impossible. Odessa's eyes widened as she took the book from Simeon. She opened it, the pages crackling with age. It was filled with pictures of different wolves and some writing.

"It’s not a handout. It’s a trade. Consider it a loan, like the High Priest’s archives. Besides, I’ve already memorized them. They’re just rotting on my shelf." It was a lie, and I hoped the Moon Mother wasn't listening. I had spent two hours agonizing over which ones to bring before settling on the Chronicles of the Elder Moon—the most sacred history we had. I didn't care if he was a 'scrapper.' I knew he’d understand the weight of the words. Grayson hesitated, his silver eyes darting toward the pack families gathering around the roasting pits. I could read the tension in his shoulders. He felt like an intruder.

But for me, it was perfect. I sat at a table made of stone. On it lay the Chronicle of the First Queen. It was a book bound in white leather that was so old it felt dirty. I had read it a hundred times. I had stared at the words until my eyes ached. "One must fall so the Queen may rise. One heart must stop to save the mountain." The words were a cage. But tonight, the moon was high and full. Its light poured through a thin crack in the ceiling, hitting the page at just the right angle. I leaned in close. I didn't just look at the ink. I looked into the paper.

The art was carved on half the wall when I spun back. “Gabriel, it’s beautiful!” I mouthed in awe. “The Voyage of Dawn Treader, it is called,” Gabriel informed, appearing behind me and slipping his arms around my waist. “King Caspian X’s ship,” I said breathlessly. He chuckled between my hair and ear. “You know stuff.” “Of course. The Chronicles of Narnia is one of my favorite books.” I turned around so I could see his gorgeous face. “It’s very beautiful, Gabriel. Thank you for showing it to me. Who made it?”