Spirited Sanctuary Novels & Stories

And then, with the faintest of smiles, Sirelia took her hand. “I’m tired of being broken,” she whispered. “So am I.” The Sanctuary of Echoes existed between realms. Half in the waking world, half in the old Dreaming, where truth could not be lied to, where history did not need to be remembered because it never forgot. They stood together at its heart, encircled by six stone altars, each one carved with a symbol of a lost dominion: Fire, Blood, Moon, Bone, Breath, Storm. The spell itself was simple.

He nods and huffs dramatically but leaves the Park going back to our own space within the Spirit Realm. You see each Spirit Creature has an individual space within the Spirit Realm. Unless multiple creatures all live in one individual, then they all share the same space. Individuals like that are called Hybrids or Mutts, because of all the different entities in them. Others can visit your personal space but only with your total expressed consent. It is a sacred place where all of your memories, hopes, dreams and desires are. Your soul dwells there also and it's best to keep precious treasures like that safe from harm. You wouldn't want someone to tamper with something like that. You can deco

They were Silverbacks who hadn't been warriors, but healers and scholars. Marcus, listening from the front seat, chimed in. He said the Sanctuary wasn't a myth. He told them it was a convent like estate on the outskirts of the Blackwood Forest, about fifty miles east of the city. It had been officially listed as an asylum for "spiritually afflicted" pack members during the purges. He said everyone assumed the inhabitants had been executed decades ago.

Diego couldn’t see her clearly because of the darkness, but she knew who that was. The Spirit was a female with powdered blue skin, long red hair and wore no clothes. Her naked body had stains of purple-black substances that covered her left leg, her right arm and her right eye which made her look even scarier. The Spirit was in shackles from its neck down to its ankles. “What thinking would you be busy with when your life is going to end in a couple of hours?” the Spirit laughed. She looked at Diego with her red eyes. Her black lips stretched into a smile. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking of escaping, child…”

“She owes you nothing.” Seraphine’s violet eyes softened. “Perhaps. But without our guidance, she may never unlock the power she needs to defeat the Covenant.” I met Ryker's gaze. “I have to do this.” His hand found mine before whispering, “Then I stand with you.” Seraphine nodded. “The prophecy foretold as much. The Flame and the Fang must walk this path together.” --- The Sanctuary of the Lunar Conclave The Conclave’s sanctuary was hidden within a secluded valley, carved into the heart of a silver-veined mountain. Waterfalls cascaded down its sides, shimmering beneath the afternoon sun, while ancient runes glowed faintly along the marble steps.

Lord Caelum accompanied me through the crossing, explaining the realm's nature. "Time flows differently here. One month in Twilight Haven equals about three weeks in mortal realm. Not dramatically different but enough to notice." He guided me through shimmering barrier between realities. "The sanctuary exists specifically for healing. Magic here is gentle, restorative. You'll find it easier to rest than in mortal territories where you're constantly reminded of responsibilities." The sanctuary was breathtaking. Eternal twilight bathed everything in soft purple-gold light. Ancient trees with silver leaves surrounded crystalline structures that seemed grown rather than built. The air itself fel

“I hear you are one with a loose tongue. If you want to see another full moon in this clan you will have to do away with that tongue of yours or it will get you killed. You will speak only when spoken to, do you understand?” I nodded slowly as much as her grip could allow. “Good.” She let go of my face and began to walk away. The Inner Sanctuary was a fortress deep within the darkest mountain of Ravenshallow. As I stood before its gates, I marvelled at the structure. Inside the corridors and rooms of the dark and mysterious fortress was illuminated by several candles and lamps. It oozed of secrets, magic and mystery. Men, but mostly women, were busy with various tasks and moving to and fro.

He glanced up towards the man before his wife. “The reason it’s not a Holy War is that we don’t have the spear that killed Jesus. Nor do we have the chalice and we’re not battling in the Holy City.” He felt Ava’s hand laced into one of his, allowing him to explain further. “A Spirit War is what we’re in the middle of, fighting for the souls of this world.” He glanced around the room. “But it seems that he wants to have a war here in Spokane.”

The charm of the Charmed Timberland harmonizes with the love of the sanctuaries, making an air of sacrosanct association. “These sanctuaries stand as signals of spirituality,” I comment, awed by the magnificent scene. Celina's words are filled with veneration. "And the charm of the Charmed Timberland includes the sacredness." Alder's voice is respectful. "Let's make beyond any doubt the sacredness of these sanctuaries remain untouched." With each domain we experience, the charm of the Charmed Timberland extends our appreciation for solidarity and adjustment. Our travel as Gatekeepers of Adjust may be a confirmation to the persevering control of light and the quality of our companionship.

He said, “This is the map of the Sanctuary’s headquarters which I obtained after serious extrapolation.” “Thank you.” James accepted the scroll. Then, he turned to leave the Celestial Abode. In the next instant, he was already back in the outside world. In the main hall, James opened the ancient scroll, on which the whereabouts of the Sanctuary were marked. Silvester asked, “What is this?” James answered, “A map of the Sanctuary’s headquarters.” Looking at the ancient scroll, he continued, “The headquarters of the Sanctuary is located in a world west of the Boundless Realm called Polaris.”