The Dark Ages Book Novels & Stories

If there was even a sliver of a way back… My fingers dragged over one particularly ancient tome: bound in silver and wrapped in spell-locked chains. I whispered the unlocking spell, old enough that the air around me shimmered with pale blue glyphs. The book creaked open. “Chronos Binding,” I murmured. The title alone sent a chill down my spine. Inside were diagrams of realms overlapping each other like threads in a tapestry. Old Realm. Divine Plane. Mortal Realm. Abyssal Void.

DIANA “No... no, this has to be a mistake!” Lisa screamed. She started shaking her head violently, her eyes wide with terror as she looked at the scroll in mother’s trembling hands. “What is the Supreme King thinking? Out of all the princes, why him? Why the Dark Prince?!” She grabbed my hands, her fingers digging deep into my skin.“Diana, he has killed every single woman that has ever gone close to him! Everyone knows it! He’s a monster who killed his own mother when he was just ten years old!”

Chapter 17: Shadows of the Past As Elara and Aric delved deeper into the mysteries surrounding the resurgence of darkness, they uncovered fragments of a forgotten history, a history that spoke of ancient conflicts and buried secrets. They learned of a time when gods and mortals had walked the earth together, their destinies intertwined in a tapestry of fate and prophecy. But with the passage of time, these stories had faded into myth and legend, their true significance lost to the ages.

“Why would it have been with the Book of Whispers?” “The Book of Whispers wasn’t a good thing. It wasn’t created to be used for good. It’s dark magic,” Arthur begins. “The same dark magic only very specific witches are allowed to learn about. Curses, afflictions, the works. It could create, and open, realms. It also spoke of other worlds outside of our own. Worlds of danger, of evil… and how to open portals to… possibly the afterlife and beyond. It predates the Firestone witches by a millenia, at least, and no one knows where it came from or why it was created. When the Firestone witches discovered it, they hid it away in one of their temples, believing it was a book belonging to the oldest

One in particular—bound in what appeared to be midnight-blue leather with silver clasps—seemed to pulse in time with the markings on my skin. "This one," I murmured, reaching for it. The clasps sprang open at my touch, as if the book itself had been waiting for me. The text inside was written in an ancient script that should have been incomprehensible to me, yet I found I could read it effortlessly—another gift from the awakening ritual. "'The Nature and Binding of the Dark Ones,'" I translated aloud. "Written by Elyara, High Seer of the Emberfang Council, in the Year of the Broken Seal."

Can I really count on it? "Come, I'll walk you through your dream" He held my hand and led me inside. "This is the first floor of the library..." My eyes sparkled as I looked at the interior. This isn't the real world. It's completely a different place which gives you the feel that you are in mediaeval times. He led me towards the second floor which was themed as a fairy tale. The green and the brightness gave it a life. The third floor was a mystery for which you would love to spend your whole life just to solve it. It's like these are three different worlds.

She combed through scrolls detailing past encounters with darkness, ancient texts outlining forgotten rituals, and fragmented maps charting the uncharted territories where whispers of evil supposedly lingered. Days bled into weeks as Elara delved deeper into the forgotten history. She unearthed stories of a fallen guardian order, the Obsidian Watch, rumored to have possessed knowledge of a powerful dark magic. Whispers hinted at a hidden library, a repository of forbidden artifacts and corrupted celestial fragments.

The name struck me like a blow to the stomach. The Darkened were myths—rumors of a cadre of ancient fighters, once exiled from the realm, who practiced dark sorcery and flourished in disorder. It was claimed that they were the overlooked warriors of a conflict that had faded into history. Nobody understood their genuine desires, yet the tales were sufficient to instill fear in any rational individual. "You should never have crossed us, Kael," a voice echoed, smooth and eerie. It originated from one of the forms—a towering, authoritative figure who advanced, his visage concealed by a mask of solid obsidian. "The cost of betrayal is high."

Eli and I worked in silence, sifting through the ancient texts and documents in hopes of finding something that would shed light on the dark force and its current activities. Hours passed, and fatigue began to set in. Just as I was about to give up, Eli’s voice broke the silence. “Lily, look at this.” He handed me an old, leather-bound book, its cover worn and faded. “This looks like it might be important.” I opened the book carefully, my eyes scanning the faded text. The pages detailed the history of the dark force, its rise, and its attempts to control the rogues. The descriptions were chilling, painting a picture of a malevolent entity with the power to corrupt and destroy.

Others were filled with books bound in white leather, adorned with intricate gold filigree. The doppelganger seemed to sense my curiosity. "The books are arranged according to their subject matter," it explained. "The black books contain knowledge of the dark arts, while the white books contain knowledge of the light arts." I nodded, my mind racing with questions. What were the dark arts? And what were the light arts? As we reached the far end of the library, the doppelganger stopped in front of a large, ornate door. The door was adorned with intricate carvings of symbols and patterns that seemed to dance across its surface.