Silence Vow Novels & Stories

It was the sound of nothing trying to imitate something. And as he clicked, the Silent Brothers began to… vibrate. A low, sub-audible hum emanated from them, a sound you felt in your teeth rather than heard with your ears. It was a hum of pure negation. It was the sound of the void. Liora understood. This was their ritual. This was how they reinforced the silence. They weren't just avoiding sound; they were actively worshipping the lack of it. The Hush's clicking was their liturgy, and the Brothers' hum was their hymn of emptiness.

But my soul did. Fuck this. “…in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.” the moment the last words left my lips, I saw it. The tightening of his jaw. A small, restrained flinch—nothing the audience would catch. But I did. His silence was louder than applause. Damn it. Did he think he was the only one who hates this? Later, inside the suite reserved for newlyweds, luxury mocked everyone from every corner. The room smelled like roses and secrets. But… it wasn’t romantic.

⸻ A low chuckle echoed through the speaker. ⸻ “Oh, but we do.” ⸻ The room suddenly felt smaller. Colder. ⸻ “We are the League of Silence,” the voice continued. “We do not require your approval, your permission, or your morality.” ⸻ I slammed my hand against the desk again. “You acted without presidential authorization!” ⸻ “And yet,” the man replied, “you’re still alive because we allow it.” ⸻ Silence hit me like a punch. ⸻

Mirroring just as much thirst as the one persistently drying up his throat. “It feels illegal to do this at your house.” Dylan whispered over his lips. “So we can't be too loud.” He sat up, ^^Want me to put up a soundproof?^^ Dylan raised a brow at his suggestion and he went on to flaunt his powers again, he let a bubble form over his head like a transparent bubble. **Watch this.** He opened his mouth to let out a loud scream and his eyes blanked out as he realized his action. **Oh, wait– I can't speak.**

I ordered, voice low but commanding. My men moved like shadows—silent, efficient, merciless. Each shot was precise, calculated to end threats without hesitation. I caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye and spun, firing twice. One attacker crumpled, a high-pitched groan escaping his lips.

“Daily devotional practices are to be kept.” I take a deep breath. I turn towards the altar in my room and say my daily devotionals. The routine of it comforting and calming, my nausea subsiding. “A strict code of silence is to be maintained. No speaking, singing, or humming. The only words to be said are in prayer.” I like silence. It is comforting. Listening to the wind whip through the grasses. Watching the grass gracefully bend to the wind’s will. Hearing the birds calling for a mate, their eager lover whistling back to accept his call. Nature is magic.

“I was born to end fear.” Silence answered me first. Not respectful silence. Not fearful silence. Not awe. It was a silence that vibrated, that recoiled, that weighed on me as though the universe itself paused to consider whether I had crossed a line it had never expected to be challenged. The Moon’s voice faltered, almost, an instant hesitation that made the silver brilliance shiver.

“But I’m still bound by the Vow of Silence spell.” “Vow of Silence?” “We’re not allowed to spill any coven secrets or reveal each other’s identities and weaknesses in any way.” “And if you do?” Roselia drew in a heavy breath. “Slow, painful death.” She smiled grimly. “I’m not so keen to die yet, My Lord.” He nodded in contemplation and took a long sip of his tea. “That’s a clever measure.”

They thought confinement would teach me obedience, that shame would break me. But all it did was sharpen the vow forming in my chest. I would not beg for Caelan again. I would not plead with parents who saw only disgrace. I would not show them weakness—not ever again. If they wished me silent, then let them. I would use the silence to forge myself stronger. I pressed my palm over my belly, lips moving soundlessly. A vow, whispered not to my parents, not even to Caelan, but to myself and the life within me:

POV: Lucian Voss There’s something I’ve always respected more than loud voices or angry words. Silence. Not the kind you get when the power goes out or when a room empties suddenly. I mean real silence—the kind that settles deep into your bones and makes every breath feel louder than it should. The kind of silence that doesn’t beg for attention… it demands it. It walks into a room and takes control without saying a single word. That’s the kind of silence I stood in now.