Refugee Novels & Stories

a tiny smile dazzles on his bruised face, shrinking Chrystal's heart. “Live happily?” Why was she repeating everything he was saying? Maybe he wasn't speaking clearly enough and she didn't understand him. Oliver nods and looks a little up, feeling more encouraged. “A place where you can laugh freely, know colors, places, flavors, textures... the perfect place, a refuge. The Gold Star is our ticket to a better life, a life without monsters.”

Hope asks. "Three new refugees arrived yesterday. They're fleeing persecution, definitely qualify for sanctuary. But they're from Blackfang. And Michelle Torres—one of our long-term residents who Raven tortured—is threatening to leave if we accept more Blackfang refugees. She says she's done her healing work, but she can't be in a territory with constant reminders of her trauma." Hope's instinct is to immediately tell Cameron what to do. But she's not alpha anymore. Cameron is. "What do you think you should do?" Hope asks instead.

That guy was clearly a vindictive person. … Meanwhile, Vance cursed as he fled. He could not accept this indignity. At the thought of their arrogance, he wished he could cut them into pieces. “I vow to take revenge!” Every city was currently on high alert, and people like them were all categorized as refugees. He was very unhappy with this title, but everyone insisted on calling them that. Everyone was dressed differently and spoke with different accents, so the refugees were easily identifiable. Fortunately, Vance and his family were rich enough to book an entire inn or they could never stay in one as r

Keeping my fingers crossed with my eyes alert would do for the meantime. "It's nice to meet you both. Where are you both headed?" Declan asked. Keisha glanced at me, and i nodded for her to go on. "we aren't lost; we are refugees seeking a place to stay. And I know this might sound too soon, but can you please let us stay with you? We would do whatever job you ask of us, please." A throaty sound escaped my lips, "We really wouldn't mind giving whatever you want in return." I said, holding his gaze while hoping he understands the underlying meaning of my words.

My heart clenched with sympathy seeing their barely treated injuries. They looked road-weary as if they had been walking for years just to arrive here. I shook my head. These weren’t rogues. They were refugees. I opened the file, scanned the collected documentation, and realized the problem. The legal definition of rogue had been expanded recently to encapsulate anyone whose citizen profile had no pack registration. If they were exiled, they wouldn't be able to move their profile to another pack. It was a dastardly loophole made to punish the victims even more. It felt more cruel than any rogue.

There they would receive emergency assistance and go through a rigorous selection process if they wished to remain in the Barnabas with occupation. If they passed the selection, the refugees could enter the next layer of the fort to get temporary housing. There, they would be observed according to their respective expertise. If they were cooperative, then they had a more comfortable place to live in the third-tier area and get jobs according to their abilities. To be precise, their residence was in a magical suitcase that the elves had prepared as a refuge. To avoid any intruders, refugees were not allowed to enter the fourth ti

“Sorry about your loss. But just because our city sheltered you doesn’t mean you have to break our laws.” “I was hungry,” the girl pleaded in her defense. “I will never do it again. I promise.” “You know we’re Libra, right?” the second Libra member hissed. When the Libra members drew close, they gave in out of fear. Since they had little money, that girl would be doing community service for a day. There was nothing we could do to help them. “We should get going,” Wilt said. I heaved a forlorn sigh, realizing the growing number of people here were refugees. I wished the Red Flight Crisis would end as soon as possible.

Dylan wiped his palm over his face and heaved out a deep sigh. There’s still a lot of things that are needed to be done in his works. There were documents that needed to be signed, as well as proposals that required his attention. He took his phone from the desk and scrolled through the latest news for a while until eventually coming across one in which hundreds of refugees had arrived in their states seeking asylum after the war erupted in their home country.

Their plea echoed through the gathered crowd, each voice joining in chorus as they beseeched me for sanctuary. "Kind Lord, we implore you," another voice rose from the throng, desperation lacing their words. "Take pity on us and offer us refuge within your domain." A furrow formed on my brow as I listened to their pleas. In times of conflict, the influx of refugees has always posed a considerable challenge to our resources. The fact that two hundred and forty souls now stood before us only exacerbated the situation. The influx of 240 more individuals meant a significant increase in our communal needs, particularly food. Yet, I couldn't ignore the pivotal role

Bloodthorn’s envoy left with the same arrogance she’d walked in with. The words she’d carried, the threats she’d wrapped in “truce” and “honor,” stayed behind like smoke. So did the fires. *** Refugees kept coming. Not in the flood from the first burned village, but in a steady trickle. Families with what little they could carry on their backs. Old men with haunted eyes. Children who flinched at loud noises. They all carried the same story.