Novel & Cerita The Mist Book

There might be a reason why my decision was ruined. I finished the milk I had prepared, washed the cup, and then headed to Alexis’s room. I shook my head when I saw she had fallen asleep while reading again. Carefully, I removed the book from her chest and placed it on the bedside table. I kissed her on the forehead before adjusting her blanket. I quietly walked out, closed the door, and went back to my room to rest. *********** **Next Morning**

Words that… words that a madman said to try to flood our lands with evil. The original book was full of magic–ancient magic. Dark and endless. It stole parts of his soul every time he said words he didn’t understand. But I understand these words as I crack the pages–printed in neat ink on simple printer paper, not weathered, yellowing papyrus. Misty’s scribbles leave indents in pen under the printed symbols–a translation done to the best of her abilities. I have to trust her. She’s the brightest mind of the family, but if she got one single translation wrong… and I say it?

Every weirdness that she encountered was recorded down, afraid that if she didn't, she would lose herself and completely become Claudine Sigfreid. Misty took a deep breath. Unparalleled seriousness showed on her face as she grabbed her quill pen and sat before the study table. It was made out of rare wood, something that she requested to be brought inside the room. "... I felt like I've been a huge idiot. Why did I waste so many precious pages describing how this world is a sham!" On the latest page of the small notebook, Misty furiously wrote five large words that briefly summarized her current situation, words that she doubted for so long and only whole-heartedly accepted today.

He cut his wrist and watched as his blood congealed, and the lid shifted. “Slitna seiðr,” Kiran whispered, and closed his eyes. He reached into the chest and felt the book move. He opened his eyes and looked at the book in his hand. “Thanks, Mom,” Kiran said. The book had opened on the purification spell that he had performed on himself years earlier and he skipped those pages. Adara opened the study’s door and looked at the book in his hand and sighed. “Really, Kiran?” she asked him.

Or just me because I’m an alpha female. I was so lost in my fantasies, I totally forgot I was supposed to be preparing for my mini shopping. “Mia? You ready? Let’s go!” Sissy said, peeping through my door. “I’ll be with you shortly sissy,” I said, checking out my final look in the mirror and applying my favourite fragrance while throwing in my keys and cards in my purse then headed out. “I think red is bold and beautiful,” sissy said, touching a red dress on the dresser admiringly.

I watch the smile on his face as he then reaches over and places his hand on the bookshelf, once more closing the door or wall or bookshelf between us. Now I was expecting it to be dark and confining, but what I didn’t expect and felt immediately was what felt like the severing of the link with the pack, and even worse was the suppression of Misty. She just seemed to disappear. She was gone, and I was all alone.

The holy mist would witness, the gods would whisper, and the Mark would claim its chosen one. I pressed a hand to the altar and drew a long breath, brushing mist and dust from its surface. My palm felt the sting of holy stone. Somewhere deep within the mist-clung corridors, weapons rang out as warriors rose to train. Somewhere deep within the mist-clung corridors, noble daughters tightened their armor and offered their prayers. And I — mist-born, mist-fed, mist-forsaken — sank closer, brushing my palm across the sacred stone as if belonging could seep from it and find its way into my skin. Then came the voice.

He answered. "They will not find one." Ares did not look at me. He looked out. "They will make one if they have to." He said. "Let them try." My voice filled with anger. The mist pushed against the wall. It got thicker. The mist was not wild. The mist was not hungry. The mist was listening. When I stepped forward, The mist went with me. "Signal the riders.” Darric's head came up. "Now?" "Yes." I nodded.

It came in as ghost-grey, noiseless and bloodless, It passed over the forest and the stream silently and effortlessly, It crawled over the trees like a weightless blanket, enwrapping us all, It was mirage-like as it moved around us, blinding us completely. The element of MIST. The white foggy smoke achieved its purpose powerfully, effortlessly and effectively. As I saw the men blinded by it, fell in confusion and chaos. They kept going around each other in circles, startling each other. Lowering their guns down, afraid to shout at each other by mistake, was my signal to come out of the water.

She lay in bed for a moment, listening to the quiet, trying to shake off the feeling of unease that had settled in her stomach. As she finally threw off the covers and got out of bed, Ariel walked over to the window and pushed the curtains aside. A grey mist hung over the grounds shrouding everything in a damp fog. The mist seemed to cling to the trees and bushes, making them appear twisted and foreboding. Ariel felt a shiver run down her spine as she gazed out at the mist- shrouded landscape.