Sprite Eternal Novels & Stories

There is no wind, but her hair is blowing as if a strong breeze is passing through. - Evil creature, wrongly created to torment humanity. The snake that turned the men and women of the earth into ambitious and sinful creatures let go of my most beautiful creation. I know about your bet with your creator, but you already lost that bet the moment Angel said "yes". Your place is at the gates of hell forever and ever. I saw Selene look up at the sky and speak.

“Specter.” Maria’s stomach dropped. “That’s not a name.” “It’s not meant to be,” Elias said. “Specter cleans up wars. Ends loose narratives. If Leonardo was chaos Specter is control.” Maria remembered the message. You belong to the war now. “He’s been watching me,” she said. “Learning me.” “Yes,” Elias replied grimly. “And now he’s decided you matter.” A soft chime interrupted them. Incoming video call. No number. No ID.

Then she opened it to the page bearing her great-uncle’s final incantation: “In the hour when flame falls hollow, let truth’s spark burn bright forsake illusion, embrace the light.” She chanted the words softly in Latin as Alexander sprinkled the amber dust into the brazier. At first, nothing happened. Then, just as the last syllable left her lips, a single spark leapt from the sketchbook’s spine and landed amid the dust. It flared into a slender column of flame white and pure—illuminating every shadow in the crypt. Isabelle’s heart soared as the hollow flame filled with substance. The brazier flamed steadily, its light radiating warmth and clarity. In that instant, the specter that had haun

When he got to Vespera, she was asked which cartoon character she really loved and she replied: "The Goddess from the Sinbad cartoon." Ezekiel’s eyes twitched. His fists tightened and his hand holding the phone shook. The voices from the device only sank into the background of his mind as he stared at the smiley Vespera with less subconscious. Lorna's favourite character was also the Goddess Eris from Sinbad, Legend of the Seven Seas.

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I just stared at her. ​"I am Elara," she said. "I was the first Sterling. Thousands of years ago, I was the one who found the Spark in the roots of the world. I used it to heal the land and keep the shadows away." ​She stood up and walked toward me. She touched my cheek, and I felt a jolt of pure energy. It wasn't painful; it felt like coming home after a very long trip.

"A tiny warrior soul, Corin." The moment we both understood its presence, the miracle happened. The little ember that had only flickered suddenly began to pulse. It needed no outside source. This new life was the heir of Aura Prima, a pure seed that had not burned out at the walls of Silver Stone because it had been hidden too deeply.

The brilliance of the sprites dimmed and then reignited, their response as luminous as their forms. "The road to breaking this curse will be dangerous," Lumina finally warned, her glow a beacon against the darkening world. "But you have shown a determination rarely seen." Amelia's heart soared, a wild hope igniting within her. Her eyes widened, a smile almost breaking free despite the seriousness of the moment. "Then you'll help me?" The treant's voice resonated with the finality of thunder. "We will provide you with this." The sprites gathered in a circle, their combined light growing until it was nearly blinding. In the center of their radiance, a small crystal took shape, pulsing with an

It's like our souls are connected and will never separate. "Hayat." Eren buries his head in my neck, giving himself to the feeling as he keeps thrusting deeper. I feel a strange knot forming in my stomach, making me gnashes my teeth. "Damn." He groans throatily and sucks on my sensitive neck, making me scream his name repeatedly. Increasing his pace, he raises back to look at my face, his red with rapture and his eyes dark with arousal.

The sun, once a warm benefactor, became a pale, flickering bulb in a sky that had begun to ripple like a disturbed pond. The "Splinter" had arrived earlier than Elara’s dying calculations had predicted. It didn't descend like a ship; it "folded" into our reality, a jagged, three-mile-long shard of sentient violet crystal that hung over the Gulf of Castellammare like a guillotine blade. It was a fragment of the Source-Core’s primary CPU, mindless and ravenous, driven by a singular, recursive command: Reintegrate the Seed.