The Dark Ages Book Novels & Stories

I cough when it raises a puff of dust into the air on its way. “I gave you all the ones with more pictures,” Roger murmurs, closing his book and reaching for his next as well. “Wanted to make it easy on you.” My mouth drops open in a little outrage at his implication there but then I see the upturned corner of his lip. “Liar,” I say, smiling down at my book as I open the cover. The title page reads A Complete History of the Cults of the Dark God, 1862. “You just didn’t want to get your hands and clothes dusty touching all these old ones.” Passively, I gesture to my clothes – which are indeed covered in a light layer of grey library dust.

She was like April sky, sunrise in her eyes Child of light, shining star, fire in her heart Brightest day, melting snow, breaking through the chill October and April He was like frozen sky in October night Darkest cloud, endless storm, raining from his heart Coldest moon, deepest blue, tearing down the spring October and April Like hate and love, worlds apart This fatal love was like poison Right from the start Like light and dark, worlds apart This fatal love was like poison Right from the start We were like loaded guns, sacrificed our lives We were like love undone, craving to entwine Fatal touch, final thrill, love was bound to kill October and April (...) The Rasmus ft. Anette Olzon - Oc

HIS DARKEST SHADE BOOK-THREE ~Prologue~ “Even if you end up hating me for it.” His tone was vicious. “I might scare you,” he continued, his gaze roaming over her trembling form, “but they are far worse—formidable, vicious… and willing to do whatever it takes to get what they want.” He gestured toward her. “Including you.” “Never.” She shook her head, her voice trembling but firm. “I’m not scared of your words. You’re just trying to scare me so I’ll listen to you!”

I cut, my eyebrows draw in, "What is that?" "Oh Velari, you do not know of the Black Years?” Her eyes dart to Vale. Vale returns the stare blankly. “The terror of the dark times,” she explains, I notice she becomes bolder when she speaks her sadness disappearing, “When the first sun died and the earth mourned her fifteen years before the birth of the second sun in the Starless age when our ancestors lived. Those years, the Dark creatures birthed from the cracked moon, they say they were like moving shadows, formless yet always hunting souls, old and young, poor and noble alike." Her eyes are wide as she explains this history a visible shudder, goosebumps lining her skin.

"No. But I know it has something to do with the Age of Ynora." Lariel raises one of his eyebrows as he asks: "Is it a name I should know?" "Well, yes, if you knew history." She feels insulted, but can't quite bring herself to respond. The mage continues: "Haven't you ever heard of the Dark Age? The Hundred Years of Pain?" The girl shrugs: "My father never made any effort to teach me history. The only academic skill I actually have is being able to read." "He trained you to be a warrior, didn't he?"

Chaos would ensue, despite Thaddeus and his misfit group of wolves and minions. Already the plan was in motion. It wouldn't be long now before blood was drawn and the gauntlet thrown. A shiver of delight wormed its way along the spine. Soon the world would take notice. Tremble. And fear. A new dark age arises. No longer will we hide in shadows. The weak shall follow or die. And I shall be the one to lead them into the new beginning. The End,for now.

He’s come here so many times, and no matter how hard he tries not to, he knows he’ll come here again. Because this is where everything changed. This is where he learned True Evil exists. It’s also where his faith was exposed for a lie. As he approaches the hovel’s rectangular entrance, a darkness oozes toward him like a viscous black slime. Cold air wafts from the doorway, rippling across his skin, smelling of death and rotting things. He steps closer, muttering prayers which sound like meaningless gibberish, clutching his rosary tight. He hears the screams. The thrashing body. He hears profanities and an incomprehensible tongue . . .

he said, and all I did was shook my head again. I drank from my glass of water and stood up. "You are talking nonsense. Maybe you should eat and get full. I will sleep now, and you too later. You are probably worn out; that is why you are saying such things. We still have class tomorrow, so you wake up early too! Understand? Goodnight!" I went into my room then. "What is he saying that he isn't human and he's been living for thousands of years? What does that mean? There is another world aside from Earth? He needs to sleep..." I muttered under my breath and started doing my night rituals before going to bed.

A suit of armor worn by a legendary warrior, a staff that once channeled the power of the elements, a pendant that symbolized unity among different races—all whisper the secrets of forgotten times. As they explore the chamber, Elysia's fingers trace the contours of an ancient tome resting upon a pedestal. She carefully opens it, revealing pages filled with elegant script and intricate illustrations. The words seem to come alive, recounting the tales of a time when darkness threatened to consume the realm and the heroes who rose to challenge it.

. Together we went outside into the cold autumn air. I took a deep breath of the brisk breeze and stared up at the sky. The sun was close to setting and an unsettled feeling fell over me. “Have you ever seen Zagreus in person?” I asked, peering at her as we walked down the narrow streets of the rogue village. “No,” she answered. “I only heard rumors of him. He was summoned long before I was born. But I heard it was a very trying time. My father remembered it as the Dark Ages. There was danger lurking in every corner.” “Grandpa James?” I asked, raising my brows. She nodded gravely. “He told me about it a couple of years before he passed away,” she explained. “I had heard about it before that,