Soul Keeper Novels & Stories

Shaking my head, I add, “Unknowingly, I arrived here seeking answers, but it seems you only wish to hurt me with your cruel words.” His gaze flickers to the book in my hand, the pages worn and yellowed with age. “Open it. Innovar is a name for the creator. The one creature that made us all. The Soulmaker, Soulmender, and Soulkeeper are its descendants. There’s a chapter about the Soulkeeper, who is said to haunt the dreams of those cursed or carrying poison with them.”

Nate abruptly stopped reading, massaging his temples thinking that he was too mature to believe in such ridiculous tales; nevertheless he continued, hoping to find answers that could help shed some light on things he himself could not explain clearly. “It was said that all souls were set free to roam the earth on this holy night of the dead, returning to their eternal resting place at the crack of dawn, but a soul with a vengeance, a link or a chain bounding them to the land of the living may never find its way back into the gates of the afterlife…. Now what the hell does that mean? Are they saying a bunch of dead people usually wakes up on Peter Pak but if they have unfinished business they

Several important things to note in that sentence, but I really must know, “What is a keeper?” “Who, not what. And keepers have been charged for all eternity with helping souls that have left the mortal realm pass on. If you had not stuck your head firmly in the land of denials, you would have taken note of all the teeming souls waiting for you to help them pass on.”

Aria felt warmth flood her mind. **“You carry not just life. You carry memories. The line of soul-walkers. The blood of the first light.”** Aria gasped. “You mean” But the dream collapsed into shadow. She woke with a start, breath ragged. And the rune on her neck was glowing brighter than ever. The next morning, the elders met her outside the healing tent. Vaerun’s old scroll had been found buried deep in the roots of the Bone Tree. It spoke of *The Keeper* a soul-bearer marked in blood and light, destined to choose between rebirth and erasure.

Thank you," she said, though she was not entirely sure what she was thanking them for. The Keeper smiled, their features settling briefly into those of an elderly woman with kind eyes. "Trust your heart, child. It remembers what your mind does not." As they made their way back up the staircase, Lydia's mind was racing, trying to make sense of everything the Keeper had said. Soul-bound mates? Memories of the soul? None of it made sense, and yet...something about it felt true, like a word on the tip of her tongue that she could not quite recall.

he tells me with a sly grin as he invites himself in, casually strolling past me and making himself comfortable on my bed, shifting the covers to settle in. I narrow my eyes at him, scrutinizing his face for any sign of danger, and ask sharply, "Why are you even here?" He chuckles softly, teasingly, "Well, I assumed you might be feeling a bit lonely, especially since your mate is cuddling up with his step-sister. I thought I should pay you a little visit to keep you warm and company." The Soul Keepers harbored deep disdain for any species that was not of their own, viewing them as inferior and unworthy of their respect. They exhibited no romantic interest in o

“He’s right. But I remember you. I remember your first scar, your first heartbreak, your first lie.” Adanna’s eyes filled with tears. “Then remember this I’m not here to worship ghosts. I’m here to burn down the cage that holds you.” The hologram’s expression flickered sadness, pride, and something darker. “Then you’ll have to face the Keeper.” Victor stiffened. “Who’s the Keeper?” The light dimmed. The hologram’s voice shifted, metallic and cold. “The one who guards the truth.” And then, the power surged alarms blaring as the Vault came alive, walls shifting, data streams collapsing like waves of light.

The Keeper, its gaze fixated on the glowing shard, remarked, "That artifact you hold, it doesn't belong here, nor do you. Yet, its power resonates with the very essence of this realm." Dupree, drawing his weapon and standing protectively in front of the group, demanded, "What do you want from us?" The Keeper, its voice a whispering echo of countless voices, responded, "A trade. A moment from each of you, a memory of utmost importance, in exchange for safe passage." Moros, skeptical, questioned, "How can we trust you? How do we know you won't take our memories and leave us stranded?" Lysandra, analyzing the Keeper's fluctuating form, noted, "It's made of memories, lost moments. Perhaps our me

Michael than put the dagger they planned to kill the survivor with on the table "There is only one dagger like this and it belongs to the underworld and unless you get permission you will not be able to touch it, this is the soul keeper once stabbed with it your soul will be enslaved to the one who uses it "I see..." "what we can do now is Wait for the survivor to wake up and see if my investigation is correct and you can also meanwhile interrogate the assassins from the dungeon"