Robe Of Enshroudment Novels & Stories

“Didn’t think you’d show up, Blackwood.” My throat closed up, words lodging like thorns. She looked regal tonight, her dark hair plaited and coiled around her head like a crown, golden pins glittering between the braids. Her robe was the deepest emerald with gold embroidery curling across her chest in shapes I didn’t recognise. Runes, maybe. Or protective sigils.

Golden for the birth of crown Red for bringing up the dawn Niveus for the day of rebirth Blue to bring the magic down White for when one is wilted down Scarlet when the hunt is back again Silver blades rise on victory march Love will patch our tattered hearts Smoke on the summon of spirits you choose Black coffins when endowed are buried down Happiness when the lost returns No forbearance for the illicit affairs Lapis Patera when the pure blades rise Nigros for slaughter of the demonic souls Taç for the pure and just reign.

I coughed but went rigid underneath the steel toe black marauder boots. "You should have stayed out of this. You had no business interfering Shields. Do you know how high and how far this will go? It doesn't stop with me and that is why I've gotta take the opportunity to end you." I laughed. This was my maze on my premises, I'd be buried here one day but not murdered. "You don't get it do you?" I retorted and begin unraveling truths for him. "Someone from high in the chain told me to get you and them and to deal with the infestation. You guys are like crumb snatching roaches."

Wendy moved to the wardrobe in the corner, carefully removing a garment wrapped in protective cloth. My pulse quickened as she unwrapped the traditional pack robes, the fabric shimmering in the soft lamplight. The white material seemed to glow with an inner light, almost luminescent, like the moon itself. Delicate embroidery adorned the edges—blue moons and stars, the symbols of Moonglow Pack, stitched with painstaking care. I stood on shaky legs, allowing my nightgown to slip to the floor and revealing the effort Wendy had put in earlier to adorn my bare body. With Bella and Wendy’s help, I stepped into the robes, careful not to disturb Wendy’s hard work. Wendy fastened the closures.

I'd worried Selene's outfit for tonight wouldn't meet the old Sterling protective standards, so I'd spent the last two nights weaving him this cloak, reinforced with the traditional ceremonial wards. His fingers caught the collar and lifted it. His eyes landed on the inside, on a small herb pattern embroidered in silver thread. My healer's mark. I'd stitched it into everything I'd ever made for him, since we were kids. He stared at it for a long moment. Then, expression flat, he folded the cloak up and tossed it aside. He walked out without looking back. Outside the morgue, news came in from the field. A pack of rogues had just hit a small allied pack to the north.

In the center of their formation walked Lady Rosalind. The proud, venomous female elder who had tried to execute Natalia with a forbidden suppression rune just days ago was barely recognizable. She wore no furs or silver medallions today. She was dressed in the simple, unadorned gray robes of a supplicant. Her head was bowed, her shoulders trembling slightly as her boots clicked against the polished black marble floor. Behind her, two guards carried a heavy iron tray covered by a velvet cloth. Beneath the fabric, the distinct, rigid shapes of two round objects were clearly visible.

My eyes locked on the needle as it slowed, slowed… and clicked to a stop on a simple, hooded cloak. S-Tier Artifact: Shroud of Unseeing Description: Renders the wearer completely undetectable by visual, auditory, and low-level psychic means for durations scaling with user stamina. A perfect infiltration tool. A predator’s tool. My smile turned sharp. “I can work with this.” The System’s voice, bland and final, echoed. “Rewards delivered. Player extraction in 3… 2… 1…” The white void vanished. I didn’t even get a chance to open my virtual inventory.

she comforted, gently stroking my hair. I remained quiet, paralyzed by fear, until a sudden realization hit me. "A-Ate, how did the guards become unconscious—" "I’ve been planning your escape from that demon for a while now, so I slipped poison into the guards' food. Every single one of them watched you suffer and hurt you too, so I didn't think twice about poisoning them. I was just waiting for the perfect timing to get you out, but when that happened earlier, I knew it had to be now."

His voice was so hoarse that it made my ears sting, "I wondered why that thing didn't scoop out your heart. Turns out, your blood was the best shield..." …… I woke up drenched in sweat, back in my bed. It was a week before the Haunts world descended. The gold bar from last night's burial was still heavy in my pocket.

The dress was pure silk, but beneath the fabric, the faint violet veins on my forearms pulsed in a slow, rhythmic cadence. "You're tense," Kaelen said, his deep voice vibrating from the doorway. He wore his formal sovereign armor, the dark steel plates polished to a mirror finish, a heavy wolf-pelt mantle draped over his massive shoulders. He didn't carry his broadsword ceremony forbade steel at the altar but his presence filled the room, chasing away the winter draft. "My uncle has been too quiet," I murmured, turning to face him. "The western defense gates have a minor pressure drop in the wards, but the enforcers found nothing."