Sloan Eragon Novels & Stories

Erin can't understand a word nor does she wish to try. Rowan keeps screaming in pain when Erin watches two souls being separated from his body. It stops moving as if it's dead, so she lets go of his body and quickly wraps Orus's soul. He isn’t ugly nor he's devilishly beautiful. In fact, he doesn’t have a face at all. Just a black soul, struggling to his death to escape Lan’s grasp.

A steady drip-drip echoed from somewhere in the greenhouse and the air was growing heavy with pressure. “Okay, okay, stop crying! Stop crying and talk!” he shouted, flustered, waving his arms like he was trying to fan away a thunderstorm. The greenhouse was his life’s work. He could not let it get destroyed. He quickly sat down, hands gripping his knees as he gave the Earth Spirit his full attention. “I can’t promise anything until I hear you out first so hurry, I'm listening.” “I know who the Dark Lord is.” Eron said after a while.

As if she’s asking about a cough and fever. Still, he answered. “She was… vulnerable. Sad. Angry. Hurt.” He stopped himself before adding reckless, wild, untethered—too much truth, even for him. Sora went quiet. Too quiet. He could hear the faint rush of her breath before she spoke again, slower this time, her tone laced with something unspoken. “There was once a student here. Kim Tae-san. Brilliant mind, but ruined by obsession. He hunted after the truth potion too, studied it until it hollowed him out. But what he made…” She let the silence hang, then leaned closer. “…was nothing like truth.”

"The air is poison. I need my medicine. I need to go back." Sloane took a step toward her. Elena tried to crawl away. The distance between them grew. A crack of energy split the air. Sloane let out a sound she had never heard from anything living—a guttural, animal noise of pure agony. He collapsed to one knee, clutching his wrist as the golden brand blazed to life. 23:58:59… 23:58:58… The light was blinding. It turned the dark trees into skeletal shadows. Sloane's skin began to fade, turning a ghostly gray. Wisps of smoke rose from his wrist, his essence leaking out of him like sand through a cracked hourglass.

“What do you mean?” “Orion… is a hybrid.” I begin to pace, putting Ezra’s plan into play in my head. “I did not see how to take him down in the records but knowing what he is can solve fifty percent of our problems. We won’t go in blind.” “Eldora… that is horrible news.” Sloane stands, blood has drained from her face. “If Orion is really stuff of legends, we don’t only stand a chance, our plan won’t come close to working even without Roderick’s curse. I have heard rumors about those hybrid experiments from the past. They were so gruesome that no one survived. You’re saying he did, do you know what that means?”

Scar across his left brow, skin dark and weathered like old leather. I stood, heart already racing. It wasn’t fear. Not quite. But something close. Like the feeling before a storm hits. Eron Routhan. That was the name Sylas had given me. Said he was older than dirt but sharper than most men half his age. Said he might know the truth about Emmeline’s mother—and if we were lucky, something about the Rivenborn blood. His limp was pronounced, but it didn’t make him look weak. No, there was something in his eyes. Sharp. Watchful.

“Agnes, love often defies reason. I’m willing to take that risk for you. If you’ll have me, I’m ready to stand by your side, no matter what.” Cain's voice trembled as he knelt before me, his eyes filled with a desperate plea. "Agnes, please, don't do this. I can't imagine my life without you. I love you more than anything." My heart ached as I looked down at him, his sincerity and vulnerability pulling at my very core. "Cain," I began, my voice cracking with emotion, "you have to understand. I have a duty, an oath I swore a long time ago. I'm destined to become the next Supreme Sorcerer, and that path doesn't allow for a family of my own."

“Messy. Loud. Unpredictable. With room for growth, failure, and really bad jokes.” Blake salutes. “Hey.” The Sleeper’s amusement deepens. Especially bad jokes. The Arbiter’s sigils stutter, conflicting directives colliding. SOVEREIGNTY MODEL… NONSTANDARD. “Welcome to Midnight,” Ethan says. “We don’t do standard.” The void begins to collapse—not violently, but gently, like a bubble popping. Reflections fade, replaced by solid ground beneath our feet. Trees reassert themselves, ley lines glowing warm and steady once more.

And then I fall, inward and the next thing I know, I'm standing in black water up to my ankles. The world here is shadow and starlight, a place between planes. A heartbeat away from eternity. And he’s here. Raelor. He doesn’t look like a monster. He looks beautiful. Familiar. Golden hair, green eyes, like a dream I forgot I once had. His smile is kind. His voice gentler now. “I could make them pay. All of them. For hurting you. For underestimating you. For betraying you.” He tilts his head. “You deserve more, Serena. You deserve everything.”

At first, nothing happened. Just darkness behind my eyelids and the steady warmth of moonlight on my face. Then images began to flicker—quick, senseless flashes. A man with blood-red eyes. Thaltos. The name came to me out of nowhere. He was the threat Kade had been preparing for. Elena, screaming. She was bound to something that looked like an altar. Silver light was being ripped out of her against her will. Kade and Damien fighting side by side, both covered in blood. They were fighting something I couldn’t see.