Sisters Of Quiet Mercy Novels & Stories

Three other figures with the same cloaks stood close by. “He’s here,” she whispered to the other three. They all took off their hoods. They all had similar facial features, the small faces and the overworked hands. As I entered, they all had smiles on their faces. “These are my sisters. Gloria, Gemma, Genesis. We are going to combine our powers to relieve you of this black magic. It is strong and it will be difficult to rid of your body.” My body towered over the four. They all stood back a few steps, realizing the height at which I stood.

And the quiet, growing certainty of something that had started as one woman's silence and had become without announcement, without drama, page by page and person by person a structure built for all the ones who had ever run deep instead of running away. Still Waters. Finally. Named.

This was not a seal laid upon her. This was a goddess choosing to answer. The sisters began as one, their voices weaving together in harmony rather than chorus, each tone distinct yet inseparable. Mercy flowed first, a soft tide of cool light washing over the circle, easing old wounds Elora had long since stopped acknowledging. Truth followed, sharp and clear, stripping illusion from the air until nothing false could remain. Reflection shimmered next, silvered and deep, and for a heartbeat Elora felt herself standing within every version of who she had been and who she might yet become. Vigilance rose like stone beneath it all, steady and unyielding, and finally Wrath—controlled, contained,

“Seriously, Lana, what the fuck are you doing and who are these women?” I wave my hand toward each woman, “These… are my sisters. Let me introduce you to Death, War and Pestilence.” My sisters’ eyes glow with malice as they circle Bree like sharks circling their prey. Bree’s chest heaves as she looks into my eyes, “Please don’t do this, Lana. You’re my sister, and I love─”

There were tears in Jacqueline’s eyes and relief. “I’ll be your coven sister if you will be mine. I lend you my spirit and power if you lend me yours. Sister to sister, we shall rise together. In the name of the Moon Goddess, we shall avenge those that abuse her gifts and power,” Jacqueline repeated back in awe. Meri held her eyes. “Sister.” “Sister,” her sister-in-law repeated back. Jacqueline’s body settled on the ground. She shakily rolled over to her side. She gently tugged Meri down and they embraced, holding each other. Jacqueline’s body heaved overwhelmed with emotions succumbing to the tears.

He flipped the light bar off, plunging us back into the grey dimness of the storm. "You're getting good at that," he said, his breathing finally beginning to level out. "At what?" "At the 'Dirty' work," Enzo said. I looked down at the Red Ledger. My knuckles were white where I gripped the leather. I wasn't the "Boring" girl who worked for a tech startup anymore. I was the woman who had just blinded a man so her husband could ram a truck. "It says here... 'The Quiet,'" I read, squinting at the page as a neon sign from a passing liquor store illuminated the text. "What is 'The Quiet'?"

We were a moment frozen in time, the weight of the outside world temporarily forgotten. The Announcement And then it happened. The room fell silent. The atmosphere shifted in an instant, like a breath was collectively held. There was a weight to the silence that hadn’t been there a moment ago. I glanced up, following the collective gaze of everyone else in the hall. The sisters had entered. Their entrance was almost ethereal. They were like two shadows of moonlight, identical in every way but for the color of their eyes, one a glowing gold, the other a deep crimson. Their ebony skin and white hair caught the light, their robes shimmering faintly as they walked.

Not a martyr or a monster, but as she used to be until the world had fallen apart, smiling, alive, with ink stained hands and bright eyes and a certain defiance. As she finished she closed the book and made a whisper in the dark, “Goodnight, Rain.” Beyond, the wind had taken the light, brief sound of laughter, light, dying, the echo of something sacred which would not die. Two sisters were lying in silence in their dorm, one holding a photograph, the other fantasising over a drawing, oblivious to the fact, that, just beyond town, the fountain near the school was shimmering a bit in the moonlight, its waters falling rippling gold.

Raise your hand now or forever hold your tongue! The sisters looked at each other, the weight of two thousand years of bitterness hanging between them. The silence was thick, pressing against my chest as I watched from the bench with Pelin and my uncle. Then, slowly, a single hand began to rise. The sisters looked at each other, their faces unreadable. Slowly, Arete and Ennoia raised their hands, their eyes fixed on the floor as if they were ashamed of their own mercy. But Episteme kept her arms folded tight, and Sophia’s hand remained firmly at her side.

I said, my voice resonating with the tectonic power of the Sanguine Empress. Selene laughed, a jagged sound that caused a dozen skeletons near the altar to shatter into dust. "You can't kill me, Elara. I am the silence you’ve spent your life running from. I am the shadow you see in the mirror when the light is too bright. The Sisters have shown me the truth: the world doesn't need a dawn. It needs the peace of the end." She raised the Void-Heart. The black glass organ pulsed with a violent violet light, and the three Sisters—the women made of stars and night—stepped forward. They didn't have faces, only swirling nebulae where their features should have been.