Spirit Farmer Novels & Stories

which is shown as a few underscores ( _ _ _ ). SG- we have a job for you, but things are changing Sphinx- I’ll do the job but what’s changing? SG- this jobs’ special, we need a face to face—no records Sphinx- I can’t, these chats are encrypted by me, do you no longer trust me SG- we do but this one needs no leads to us especially Sphinx- who would I have to meet SG- only me and my two most trusted. I understand your need for your identity to remain anonymous.

Dear reader, welcome back to the Supernatural Spa... If you wonder if there is anything here about The Divine, yes there is. Remember that one of my closest friends and source is considered the Hierophant of the Paranormal All-Stars. And this usually represents religious teachings and is also known as The Pope. The thing is, my friend Mab intends to represent The Most Holy Trinity in the Paranormal Industry and Supernatural Circles simply because she finds it unfair that someone who she considers the most powerful spiritual being would not have a representative in these areas.

Blake said with a smile. Blake led Claire to the other cabin, and when they approached, Gerold rose from his seat and greeted her. “Greetings, Spirit Sprite. My name is Gerold Elon, or if you prefer, grampa like the others.” Gerold said smilling. “Spirit Sprite?” Both Blake and Claire asked. “HA, ha. Yes, my boy, you sure know how to pick them. What a fortunate opportunity for you to have three Spirit Vessels and the legendary Spirit Sprite by your side.” Gerold said, almost jumping up and down from his excitement.

“He’s having the boy make her miserable, toy with her and torture her enough she’ll run, in her confusion, straight to Radix disguised as me.” “It’s sick.” “That’s Radix.” Deragan agreed. “But.” Bast chuckled knowingly. “That’s why you spent all that time Spirit Running to her.” Spirit Running was the act of letting one’s body rest to send their spirit winding out to visit or check on others or things. It was a fine art. One that Deragan had done well learning. He and Chavias had been practicing together before Chavias was dragged away by the cimmerii in the Great Battle.

There wasn’t a soul left alive on that cursed mountain when that sun traveled across the sky that next morning. I traveled from town to town and village to village in those following days, and I watched as soulmates turned into enemies from their bigotry and their hatred. The betrayal of one bond had single-handedly destroyed the bonds for countless other people. The world was torn apart by fighting in and among all clans. I, Mae Shamrock, last of The Sisters of the Path Coven, bore witness to the destruction of the soulmate bond as the Soulmate Covenant was broken in 1850. I knew without a doubt that it would not be returning… UNTIL the world changed its ways…

His fair skin is tainted by a tattoo that covers the entirety of his upper arm. He is an arms dealer but not the ordinary kind, the supernatural kind that sells stakes, wolfsbane and things like holy water. His inventory is not limited to these kinds of weapons as his arsenal ranges from pistols to rocket launchers. He stands with a stern face as he eyes John who returns his gaze with the same energy. He is accompanied by Philip, also an old friend of Mary’s. Philip looks quite frantic as he helps ready the weapons. Philip is 6ft tall, his hair is a mix of grey and brown, he has dark eyes and he is fair in complexion.

the spirit says. Amalie blinks and stares at the sandwich in her hand. “What…I…shit…did I pass out or something?” “In a way,” I reply. I caress her face with my eyes. She’s magnificent. Goddess help me, I want to kiss her so badly. “Your spirit manifested.” “What?” “Her name is Edira.” “I don’t understand. Why can’t I feel it when it happens?”

“We are almost there.” Their guide said with a thick accent. Few minutes later, they were at the top of one of the numerous hills in the afghan mountains. Below them was a poppy farm with six simple huts built on a straight row. Oscar immediately started setting up the radio to communicate with their superior officer back at the base while she set up her M40 sniper rifle. Their guide sat on a rock and watched them quietly as she and Oscar hurriedly prepped for their mission. ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

We do not need a wooden sword to bend your mind into shape. ‘He speaks the truth, Zane,’ Fenrir's deep, rumbling voice chimed in, vibrating right against my ribcage. The sensation made my breath catch. ‘The method we are going to use requires a deeper layer of consciousness. It is called the spirit state. To enter it safely without destroying your human brain, your soul needs to be completely wide open, vibrating at its highest spiritual frequency.’ I blinked, a sudden wave of suspicion hitting me. Something about the way they were explaining this felt deliberately vague. "Okay... and how do I open my soul like that?"

"Or something. My grandmother said it was the spirits of some of the greatest seers. Sometimes, when they want to pass an important message, they do it through a seer, like me." "It looked more like they were trying to kill you. Are you sure you're okay?" Saoirse nodded again. "I'm fine. I came to see how you were doing. You don't look too good." "I don't feel too good," Iris murmured. "Sit down. I'll do the spell." "What? No! You just recovered from a...um...possession?" Saoirse shook her head. "Sit down, Iris. I'm totally fine." Iris obliged, and Saoirse began to chant.