Saga Of The Forgotten Warrior Book 5 Novels & Stories

Just as he was heaving the heavy thick wooden door closed, a pair of hands pulled it back open. There before him stood the reason for so many things. This battle. Sheiria's fatal wound. The reason that their son had been spirited away by his most trusted captain and the boy's nursemaid. Ragar was an ugly man. In both mind, heart and appearance. Unkept, wild, knotted hair. A mouth full of rotting teeth. A demeanor of cruelty and greed. The only thing about the man that resembled health was his rounded belly, suggesting a habit of over-eating and over-indulgence.

Xasha came up to the man, “He must have been a Thorium Realm expert for his bones to survive this long.” Beside the man was a book with a metal cover. He took up the book in hand and opened it, but all that fell out was dust and loose pieces of pages that had not decomposed yet. The ink had long disappeared, but Xahsa saw one word visible in the entire Book, "pe Sage." "PE, sage? What's that?" a member of Xasha's 5 man cell commented. "Don't worry about it, let's just go, we're falling behind." Another member berated. She thought Choir was too easily distracted.

Cole smooths his hand over the title page where my name is printed in bold. He looks up at me, smiling faintly. “There’s no title.” “I have no space in my brain to name it. Not yet. But it’s not just about the war last year. It’s about–about everything–everything from the beginning. What Aviva now remembers about the fall of the Firestone witches, how the kings came into power, the veil, how the Goddess played into the use of the water to bring the magic into Maatua so someone could find it again and harness it to help Eastonia. Then, of course, the war. Our story. Stories of the warriors and the families they had to leave behind. The order members who got trapped by Richard’s magic–” I suck

A blacksmith whose hands were scarred by honest work. A musician with a silent violin. None appeared evil. Only burdened. The old man looked at each of them. "We meet again." No one smiled. The lantern's flame flickered. The child placed the closed book upon the stone table. It bore no title. The musician rested the silent violin across their knees. Finally... The young man spoke. "The Fifth Dawn has broken the ancient balance." The old man disagreed. "No." "It has challenged our understanding of it." A long silence followed.

His once-bright eyes were now dull and lifeless. No one would have guessed this man had once been a brilliant doctor with a promising future. “Sara, I know I did you wrong in the past, but now that you’re here to see me… Does this mean there’s still a chance for us?” He looked at me, hope flickering in his eyes. He was like a man who had wandered the desert for years and suddenly spotted a mirage of water. Unfortunately for him, I was about to disappoint him. “Xavier, how do you have the nerve to say something like that? I’m only here to see how far you’ve fallen, to revel in your miserable life.”

I ask walking closer to him, pressing my sword on his chest. "I regret nothing!" He seethes out, struggling against his captor. I chuckle and with a smirk, I pierce my sword through his cold, stone heart. I clean his blood off with my clean hands and there from his stiffed, dead body I take the crown of his head and place it on mine. That's the last thing he'll ever see, my hands bloodied, so much that it drips down all the way to my elbow as I take his crown and my rightful place as the long-lost forgotten king. This does bring a smile to my face.

Azrael held his hand out and I grabbed it, summoning my box again, and teleporting us from our realm back to the warehouse. We landed in the middle of complete chaos. The battle had migrated out of the small office into the main area of the warehouse. Part of the building was on fire, and the Reavers had the man caged in the corner. They were helpless to keep him fully restrained as he was combating their magic with some sort of his own.

“The fewer people who know the better, however, if the Princess does disclose it to them, Mathias will come and ask me. When that time comes, I will not lie to him. Much has happened in the past year, with the attacks on the Clan Mansion, I fear something else maybe be coming our way. History has a bad habit of repeating itself and if any of these gateways were to be opened I would want Mathias on my side.” With those last words, Abner excuses himself, bidding me good night. No sooner does he leave me sitting in his study than the old man appears again. I thought I had seen the last of him when Abner dismissed him before. Apparently not, as the old man leads me up the stairs and shows me to

Suddenly, a piercing yelp shattered through the cacophony, originating from the far side of the cabin. Caught momentarily off guard, one of the enemy warriors managed to land a strike on my shoulder. Reacting with lightning speed, I swiftly pivoted and ruthlessly tore out his throat, eliminating the immediate threat. It was in that intense moment that I realized the Alpha, whom she respectfully referred to as Sir, must have also heard her anguished cry. Sensing the urgency and the gravity of the situation; he instinctively began to withdraw from the ongoing skirmish, urgently making his way towards the source of her distress call.

The moment she touched it, a wave of warmth coursed through her, and the book’s pages flipped rapidly. “We’ve got it,” she said, turning to the others. But there was no time to celebrate. The walls began to shake, and the floor cracked beneath them. “Run!” Logan shouted, and they sprinted out of the collapsing temple just in time. --- The Fifth Anchor The journey to the fifth anchor was even more harrowing. The landscape changed drastically, turning into a barren desert where the air shimmered with heat. The group trudged forward, their exhaustion growing with every step.