Shaman King Novels & Stories

"I slept like a baby, My Lord." Samoa wondered if he could see the trembles of her body. King Ryker looked nothing like she imagined. She'd heard words and stories about him and the things he went through in the hands of the former King Valen. So, she'd warily prepared her mental health for seeing a King Kong, or a scarred Chimpanzee dressed in expensive wears. The King is a handsome but terrifying man. There's a scar that ran across one cheek and disappeared into his neckline, it gave him a savage look.

“Are you really you? Really Aria and Kade? Or are you something else wearing their faces?” The question hurt. Because I did not know the answer. “We think we are us,” Kade said carefully. “But we are different. Changed. We were the seal for so long. We were one consciousness. We're beyond human. Coming back to this…” He gestured at his body. “It feels wrong. Small. Limited.” “But you are back. That is what matters.” Sera started walking. Supporting both of us. “We have so much to tell you. So much has changed.”

"What is it?" Before I could answer, a heavy, wet vibration rattled the windows. The glass fogged over with a thick, grey condensation that smelled of sulfur. "He's here," Cindy whispered, her voice cracking. "The Shaman. He’s at the gates." Kael stood at the center of the grand parlor, his bloody hand still wrapped in Julian's dark cloth. Beside him stood the Shaman. He was a terrifying sight. The old man was completely blind, his eyes were covered by a strip of rotting linen, but he moved with an unnatural, fluid grace.

Briar said excitedly. The crown, an ornate diadem of gold and jewels, rested on King Soren’s head. He was standing in front of the throne. As soon as Kael stepped onto the raised platform where the throne was, King Soren stepped to the left. The Shaman, who was standing there to perform the ceremony, bowed to Kael. Kael got down on his knees and lowered his head in front of his father.

Yes, there were kingdoms that were separated, the werewolves, vampires, witches, and humans, but since I was a hybrid, and the high king, whoever desired to live in my kingdom was more than welcome, regardless of where they came from, as long as they followed the kingdom’s rules, they were more than welcome, and so far in the past six hundred years, I’ve had no problem which I could not maintain or control. “This is beautiful” Kiara said smiling at me, I smiled and wrapped my arms around her pulling her to stand in front of me, resting my chin on her shoulder, I slowly turned my face around to kiss her cheek making her smile, her eyes lighting up as each firework blew in the air.

"We need all the teams on the field right now. Since some of your team members are already on the mission, I decided not to look elsewhere for the remaining kings" "Splendid." "You will travel to vampire kingdom tomorrow" "No. I won't"

She says pretending to be sad. "NanaBooZhoo, Ziigwan. You're older!" I try to joke to light up the mood. "You're huge. Shut up." She seems to blush and roll her eyes. Huge? Is that good? "You know, no one calls me Ogi. Just you." "Why? That is not you name? Ogimaa? Ah? Right?" "No. It's not, besides everyone calls me King. You know that. Only my grandma calls me Myeengun and the Elders too."

Still, almost nothing is the same as before. I’m a zombie, the living dead, the supreme specious of the planet, and the leader of one of the largest hordes in North America. I’m one of the Zombie Kings. My job is to keep the peace among zombies, keep my horde fed, and hunt humans for sport. I’m the stuff of Lacey’s nightmares now, and yet somehow, I have to rekindle our relationship so that I’m not forced to use her as a breeder.

Seven cops flanked the entire group on all sides while the Sheriff stood beside the Shaman. The Shaman was a tiny, little woman. She was very petite. Unlike her daughter who stood tall and thick and looked strong, she was fragile. Her skin was so pale, it was more white than butter. And though she took steady, consistent steps, they were a bit shaky. She was clad in a Black silk hooded robe which had golden rims on the hood and the sleeve. From outside, only a speck of white could be seen of whatever she wore under the robe. Another contrast to the black robe was her facial features. Over the past one thousand years, her hair had turned completely white. Along with her brows. As it was immac

Always behind, and just behind. “But such place won’t be in your hands forever. Such glory is meant to fade. The respect and privileges would soon be gone the moment you become incompetent or useless. And more often than not, Kings are just mere figureheads...” I knew it. He would just be glorifying whatever position the other females in our family has. “The true power and glory, lies on who has made a mere human a king.” Nepotism? “Their advisers, the one who controls the strings – the Kingmaker.”