Silver Gravekeeper Light Novels & Stories

“You saw what happened before. The Grave answered him.” My heart pounded. “And if it answers again? What if it doesn’t stop this time?” His grip softened. “Then we make sure it does.” ---------------------------------------------------- Storm stepped toward the dais. The air trembled, each pulse of the heartbeat syncing with his own. The figure above the stone stirred. Her eyes opened. They were not eyes at all, but endless silver light. The cavern filled with it, blinding, searing, ancient. I dropped to one knee, shielding my face. Lira cried out, her wards snapping in bursts of fire.

The anatomy of the earth being stripped down by hand. The workers poured the green battery acid over the jagged lime deposits that encased the silver vein. The stone didn't crack. It hissed, a boiling sound that filled the narrow drift with a dense white vapor that smelled of vinegar and old copper. Elara stayed at the front of the line, her hands guiding the iron stakes into the soft dissolved channels, her fingers tracking the cold metallic texture of the native silver as it emerged from the stone matrix. The silver was beautiful. It was dead. It didn't possess the light of the Moon Guard or the reflective brilliance of the Citadel's mirrors. It was a matte, gray alloy, heavy with lead and

With the speed of a viper, Serefy reached out and grabbed Floreighn’s wrist, yanking the sleeve up. "Let go!" Floreighn cried out, but it was too late. The blackened, weeping ring of a Silver-Burn was exposed to the light. The hall went silent. Alpha Kenneally stood up, his chair screeching against the stone. "Silver?" the Alpha roared. "Only high-rank warriors or hunters carry silver. Floreighn, who did this to you?"

I feel his menacing glare on me even as I sprint into the apartment. "Thanks for bringing these up," I smile tightly as I hold the front door open for the Solari Wolves. They give me an odd look as they pass me, grumbling as I quickly shut the door, "Thanks! Bye!" "What are you doing?" Jayden asks as I open the chest and begin picking up bottles. Finally I find the bottle I'm looking for. "Alora, what is that?" "Ground up silver," I pull a cloth from the kitchen draw and sprinkle some of the dust onto the white material. Opening the door, I wipe the silver on the outside, "Don't touch this doorknob without something covering your hand."

He knelt and panned his flashlight’s beam along the ground, found it, grabbed it and held it up under the flashlight’s glare. An old wooden handle. Maybe to a hatchet or something. Funny thing was, though the handle felt worn and smooth, indicating much use, it felt solid. Not rotten or damp, which meant it couldn’t have been laying around for long. Someone had dropped it recently. Jesse looked at what remained of its blade. It looked melted. The flashlight’s beam glinted off the metal. Odd. Didn’t look like cast-iron, but more like . . . Silver. In his comics, silver sometimes hurt evil things.

I bent down and picked up the dagger stuck in Brook's shoulder and went back to my side of the arena and sat down on the ground. Silver was one of the things that could kill werewolves, and in the form I had used it was even worse, because it entered through the nose and mouth and sticks to the mucous membranes... But well, the composition of this silver bomb was just enough to disable and not kill, and it hurt a lot, I was feeling the pangs in my chest myself, no matter how much I had held my breath, still, some particles had entered.

“Even a witch from Helverium like me cannot break the rules of the mate bond. But that is not our concern. They will not live long enough to have mates anyway.” The moon is nearly at the center of the sky, indicating that midnight is near. Alexei pants as he glares back at his tormentors. His guards hold him up in front of the Knight and the witch. Stefan takes out a long gun from his pocket. Alexei recognizes it right away; the Ashton Silver gun. It is the only type of gun in the world which can hold silver bullets. Silver bullets can kill werewolves and Lycans. Alexei’s heart is racing. “No…” He whispers. “Leave them! Leave my sisters, please-”

“Not in this life.” Silence. The rain seemed louder. The river seemed darker. Every instinct told her the conversation had just become dangerous. Naomi folded her arms. “Who are you?” The stranger looked toward her. Then smiled. “I was wondering when you'd ask.” For the first time, something cold entered his voice. “Unfortunately, names are complicated.” Lightning flashed again. And for a fraction of a second— Ama saw his eyes clearly. Silver. Pure silver. Exactly like the warning described.

“Hands like light itself. Healed my brother’s fever with one touch and he was good as new by morning.” My head lifted before I realized it, honing in on the conversation. The speaker was a merchant, middle-aged, half-drunk, spinning tales to a group of guards around his table. I let their laughter wash over me and listened harder. “Where?” someone asked, snorting. “The moon doesn’t walk among us mere mortals.” “Silver Glen,” the merchant said. “A small village near the northern ridge. They call her the Silver Healer. Some say she’s blessed by the Goddess herself. Eyes like molten silver, they say. Glows when she works.”

"Oh, Moon Goddess! She died too miserably... Her bones were burned by silver, and her wolf was torn apart..." The enforcers snapped on flashlights and followed the witch and the necromancer down the stairs. The deeper they went, the thicker the stench became. It wasn't ordinary rot. It carried the metallic bite of silver poisoning. "I have only smelled this once," the older enforcer muttered, his face draining. "It was at a silver massacre 30 years ago." At the far end of the basement, the necromancer suddenly dropped to his knees and pointed at a door forged entirely of silver.