Past High Priest Jewel Novels & Stories

Especially the storage ring. He had just learned from Hermione that the goddess had given her a jade medal when she imparted her inheritance to Hermione. The jade medal was related to the huge secret of an ancient sect. However, when Hermione sealed off the place, she handed the jade medal to her master for temporary safekeeping. Now, Elder Quint died suddenly. Jenson Springer and Hermione were naturally anxious to find those items. However, there was nothing. Nothing. Even if they dug to the bottom of the thousand-meter deep pit and searched, they wouldn’t find any signs of it.

"A caelo usque ad centrum. A capite ad calcem. A mari usque ad mare. A posse as esse. Ab antiquo. Ab extra. Abhinc. Ad lucem !" The stone moved from its place, and began to levitate a few feet in the air, spinning with lightning speed above the sleeping baby. The High Chancellor once again spoke and recited the ancient words, "Ad lucem! I conjuro te!" An orange light burned bright inside of the jewel, giving off a red powerful glow. Bihadlly wasn't Queen of Zuff, in that moment. She was just Bihadlly, a mother afraid for her baby and family legacy. She had no choice, she kept reciting to herself. She stood a few feet away and watched the small bundle as the Jewel spun and glowed abov her o

Long had she been prepared for this event. Behind her entered the High Priest, decorated in a shining purple robe, wearing a mask knitted from the flesh of unbaptized children. Other heroes of old campaigns shuffled in behind him, garbed in the same gruesome fare. They wrestled in a figure that was tied up in a burlap tarp. “Glory. Glory. Glory,” he roared. “Let us commence the communion of our race.”

"Who did this? Who is daring enough to kill my King! Knights of Alvarez, find the murderer and bring him to me!" Luci, the chosen Priest smiled. His smile was full of happiness and joy, it's as if he succeeded on something. Something that he was waiting for a very long time, something that he always wanted to achieve. The priest was smiling evilly. "It was me your majesty, the chosen priest, the one who recently inherited the Power of Light. It was me, I am the murderer!"

The recognition and realization in her eyes had been unmistakable, the disturbance in her near transparent wisps, unsettled. "They have something of mine," he continued. "Something I would like back." Fionis uncrossed her leg, crossed them in reverse, then leaned forward. "You're the priest that's been causing them so much trouble." It wasn't a question. "I am." "And what of yours have they taken?" Sethlzaar didn't move. "A priestess and a Nun."

From the blackened marrow of the altar, a figure manifested. He did not walk; he Officiated. He was a being of Silver-Starlight and Ivory-Dust, his face a shifting mask of every "Priest" who had ever told a girl that her pain was a sacred duty. He held a Censer made of Human Teeth, its smoke a thick, indigo-gold vapor of Absolute Commitment that held the power to "Fix" any two souls into a permanent, static agony. It was the High Priest of the Loom.

her husband said as he encircled his arms around her waist and in next second they were hugging, passionately. Too say Nayyab was happy with her life would be understatement. She was blessed. She had forgotten and forgiven everything and anyone the moment she realized it was all her fate. She got much luxury than she ever could ask and her husband was a nice and caring man. No she isn't a gold digger but she is thankful for whatever blessings she is receiving for whatever is of her husband is hers as he had said it to her. She remembered that before leaving for their honeymoon his husband called her in their bedroom and gave her a surprise. "Musa I cannot accept it..." she said looking at th

“Alpha Silas.” Her voice is measured, but I remember when it used to shake. Sixteen years ago, before her elevation to High Priestess, Elowyn was sick of remaining the humble subject and unwitting sex slave of the High Priest at the time, and I could tell. She was next in rank in terms of the level of her gifting, but her rank was practically useless. High Priests and Priestesses can live for a millennia, and by the time of his death, it was almost certain that he would have produced an heir who would override her position. So, one night, I approached her, presented a brilliant plan that she could not resist. I offered her partnership. She would not dare break her sacred vow of devotion by

“The Diadem of Promise? But the Goddess showed me a necklace–” “Jewelry can be repurposed. The Diamond of Faith belonged to the Goddess’ crown in the temple from what Maddox said.” “The wizard from KiloKilo is doing all of this over a diadem? A freaking tiara?” “If it’s anything like the diamond, it’s not just a tiara,” he says flatly as we start to close the distance between us and Maddox. “Did Antony ever mention an heirloom–” “No,” I say, choking on the words. Could Antony be hiding something? Had he been hiding something this whole time?

We were the only ones who knew that the man blessing the bread at the head of the table was the same one who had tried to rot our son's soul. "He is coming," Killian whispered, his voice a low vibration beneath the sound of the violins. The High Priest arrived late, draped in robes of white silk that seemed to glow in the candlelight. He carried a silver censer that released thick, sweet clouds of lavender smoke. As he approached the dais, the scent hit me: a cloying, artificial floral note that failed to mask the underlying stench of wet earth and decaying meat. "Your Majesties," the High Priest said, bowing with a grace that felt entirely too practiced. "The pack is blessed to see the fami