Stormlight Archive Novellas Novels & Stories

A premonition flashes before my eyes; it’s the first time I've ever had while awake. I see the lycans coming out of hiding. The lycan who will take over the pack is a distant relative of mine on the Blackwell side of my family. The pack is taken over, and the name is changed. Some werewolves leave and go to other packs while others stay. The two races now work together, fixing the pack systems and striving to live in unity. It’s a beautiful premonition. I’ve completed my destiny quest as pride swells in my chest at my accomplishment.

Many times the being from Light connects with the one from Darkness, creating a beautiful, but always very sad and desperate love story - because in most cases neither Light nor Darkness want their representatives to mix with each other. In these few stories that I want to tell you, this dilemma awaits you - can two hostile beings, one from Light and the other from Darkness, be connected by love? And if so, can their relationship survive in their world where the boundaries are clearly delineated, with no forbearance for any exceptions? Perhaps in their stories, surprisingly, you will find something that sometimes connects us, humans, and those supposedly alien creatures, in whose existence w

Her body wanted to go to sleep, but her mind plagued her with thoughts that she wished she didn’t have, but it gave her courage to face whatever was coming at her. “Why do the shadow dwellers want me?” she said facing Nick. “Because you are strong, and you come from a strong line of Dwellers, some dark while the others are light.” He said wrapping his arms around her. “I want to make sure you stay in the light, if you go dark then we are off balance and the shadow dwellers will win our war, and we will perish.”

Basira stood before him in the same way, till at last she cried out, “A second confusion!” Zastar, greatly amused, blinked some time with his sound eye; at length ho said, “Sir Novoveski, a friend and subordinate of our Geswer, and this is Lady Ladder. Tfu! I wanted to say Yezorkoy.” Sir Adam recovered readily; and because lie was a soldier of quick wit, though young, he bowed, and raising his eyes to the wonderful vision, said, “As God lives! Roses bloom on the snow in Ketling's garden.”

“She was speaking through me. And she called Eileen by a name.” Kilian’s fingers tightened around hers. Lyra’s voice dropped. “What name?” Nova closed her eyes. “Shadow Flame.” Lyra didn’t speak for a long moment. She only stood, walked to the far wall, and pushed aside a heavy tapestry. Behind it: a storage alcove filled with crates and sealed chests marked with symbols older than the pack itself. “Alright,” she muttered, grabbing a wooden box and dragging it to the table. “If we’re talking about ancient goddesses and unborn chosen ones, we’re going into the archives.”

⸻ The mysterious stranger holding the broken wooden horse smiled faintly. “That’s the problem with hope.” He looked toward Cassian. “It always delays the inevitable.” ⸻ Aurelius remained silent. Even he wanted to hear what Cassian had hidden. Lyra lowered her spear. The Lost Keepers stood frozen. The Crimson Covenant didn’t move. For one impossible moment… The oldest enemies in history became nothing more than listeners. ⸻ Cassian slowly walked toward the shattered altar. His footsteps echoed softly. “When humanity created the Archive…” he began,

She boomed, Derora noticed the storms outside still bellowed, but she seemed on edge, now was her time for a distraction, "How is the war with the light gods going?" she asked, Herega turned her gaze to her, lightning flashed outside, "You will remain silent derora!" She growled, Derora gave a smug grin, it really got on her nerves as the whole room darkened due to the thunder clouds outside the palace, herega stretched her hand to summon lightning. Then derora noticed the light trying to clear the clouds, it was a real Battle of elements, she laughed out as herega turned to her,

She opened it and read it. My dear Cass much has happened by now, and I am sorry I’m not there to witness your life. I wanted to celebrate your triumphs and comfort you in your defeats. But know I love you deeply. This book is my family’s grimoire and family tree. Yes both your parents could do magic, but my talent is only passed down to those with amber eyes. Since you are reading this I’m guessing you have my eyes. Learn the book well and hide your true identity for there is much turmoil in the land.The time will come when you will take the throne of Archon and bring peace and justice back to the land. Rule wisely and most importantly know that I am proud of you.

--- POV: Nytheria She glanced toward the arch where Solara’s sky flickered, half-alive. “Every reign ends, little verdict. Even yours. I’ll be here when silence asks for another name.” She blurred into galaxies and was gone, leaving the taste of her amusement in the room. --- POV: Araya — The Ash Crown The Hall sagged inward, light bleeding to smoke. Above, Solara’s firmament cracked like cooling lava. The gods’ old brightness dimmed. Only the throne remained surface shifting between gold and black, pulsing with Hollowflame and voidlight together. The rhythm settled under my ribs. The world’s new heartbeat.

Her hands were still, but her eyes never stopped moving. The Archive was waking. Stones shimmered. Glyphs glowed faintly in corners long buried by ash. The air was thick—yes—but not with dread. With presence. With stories that were finally exhaling. Then came the Fold. Not quietly. Not carefully. They announced themselves—marching into the Archive’s broken heart like they still owned it. Bone-white armor, spears painted with void. Shadow-beasts loped between their legs—half-formed things with too many joints and no eyes, their steps wrong in a way that made your skin twitch. At the front rode Serros, mounted on a twisted creature stitched from silence.