Novel & Cerita Stolen Tongues

Tribes who taught their people the Old Tongue from generation to generation, never letting it die. Now, it booms as if coming from a speaker, each word clear as day. “Welcome!” the King of the Fae says with a bright smile as he looks at his spectators. “To the Culling!” “The Culling?” Meg whispers, glancing up at me. “Lexa, what is this? Why is he speaking in the Dead Tongue?”

She looked at me intently in the eyes and her meaningful stare was clearly visible. I blushed right away and couldn't utter a word. “What? Cat got your tongue? Your blushing bitch!” she sounded playful. I did not answer her, instead, I leaned and hugged her tightly “Bella, my heart is full," I whispered audibly. She caressed my back “I’m so happy for you," she expressed gently "Don’t be stupid this time, Okay?” she chuckled and I hissed on her warning.

My stomach twists into an unpleasant tangle. "Don't tell me it's a real human tongue? And I am going to eat it?" my lips trembled, studying the small muscular organ inside the sealed container. Instead of pink, it was bluish and scaly in the middle. I almost screamed when I saw the shape start to twist, making little contortions of its own. "But...But..." I stammered, "it's alive." "It's a siren's tongue," he said coldly, “and yes, you will eat it.”

Rena - still concealed - ran towards the man, dagger ready. The man stopped and lifted the tip of the arrow to his tongue. Rena made a choking sound when she saw the man's tongue. He has a forked tongue like that of a snake; its surface was full of yellowish acidic liquid; poisonous and unforgiving. The man licked the arrow and the tip boiled in the acidic drool. With his tongue still out, Rena appeared in front of him and sliced off his tongue. Surprised, the man dropped to his knees along with his sliced tongue. He dropped the arrow to the ground and the grasses around it withered and died. The man cried, covering his bloody mouth with his fingers. Rena picked the arrow on the ground and s

Dorin proudly replied, "She knows a lot of things!" "But that doesn't answer anything, does it?" Seb sounded irritated. "Can you at least teach me the words?" he requested. "I’m afraid I don’t know the whole song. As I was told, the song of Phases was handed down through the Ravante family." He looked at Seb and frowned. "You know, my friend Eirian once told me before that Silver Tongues are a dying race, I never thought I would meet one so soon. But he also said that Silver Tongues only spring from the Ravante family, and that the Ravante family is extinct."

"Stolen, renamed, raised to perform loyalty. But not Laurent. Not blood. Not mine." Catherine flinched. The words landed where I intended. We had never spoken it aloud, not in twenty-two years. The secret that bound us, that defined every decision, every preference, every cold glance at the dinner table when Clara demanded attention and Celine sat quiet, waiting. "Don't," Catherine whispered. "Don't say it." "Why not?" I moved to the desk, unlocked the hidden drawer, pulled the leather ledger. "Because you forgot? Because you look at her now and you see the child you raised instead of the child you stole?"

That night wasn't going to happen again in this life. I went home and dug out my old diary that I'd hidden in a deep corner of my wardrobe. I was ten years old, homeless and wandering the streets at night when Graham—18 at the time—took me in. He was cold and aloof with everyone else, but he was very gentle with me. I knew that I had fallen in love with him when I was old enough to realize it. However, it was a secret that I could never reveal to anyone else. I grabbed the diary and tore it to pieces, shredding every page. Then, I threw the scraps into the toilet and flushed them down.

The smile on my face grew colder. Three days after the stream ended, things began to shift. Quietly. Then, all at once. The first to fall was Tyson. Early Monday morning, a piece of news spread through every class group chat like a virus. Tyson had both his legs broken. He was in the hospital. Rumor had it that the bag of 30,000 dollars he found was not lost property at all. It belonged to a local underground banker, someone known for being ruthless. He had dropped it during a rushed deal.

Roger fumed. “Shut the hell up, little spider. I’ll make sure I deal with you absolutely . "I did the foundational concepts. I gave you the exceptional back-up you needed it. When you couldn’t get through, I showed up and even sent my boys; four- of- them to protect you. Have you forgotten? You are the coward I never expected to betray me,” Luca screamed." “Don’t even!” Roger screamed back. I frowned sadly with my face lit with shock and surprise.

He releases him with the indifference of someone dropping an empty cup. Torren collapses sideways, gagging, hands clamped over his mouth as if he can force the agony back in. Garren tosses the severed tongue onto the center of the table. It hits with a dull, meaty slap. Someone hands him a cloth. He wipes his hand clean without looking at Torren. “This,” he says lightly, “is what happens when you speak without thinking. Now, who else has an issue with how I run my pack?” No one dares look up. No one even coughs.