Thieram Arcane Novels & Stories

Zara cuts in before he can say anything more, "let's not scare the girl. She's only just become a part of this world." "Fine," he sighs as he says this as though not talking about it is a serious letdown for him. "Guess it's a good thing that dragons aren't found in the U.S. There are also Kitsune and Selkie. Then, there are witches, banshees, and vampires.” "Don't forget about the fae," Zara butts in, clearly excited. "Fae?" "Incubi, succubi, dwarfs, elves, gnomes, goblins, leprechaun, sprites, trolls, pixies, brownies," Zara ticks them off on her fingers excitedly.

The reason for the wars and constant conflicts between the Gordanians and the Thamaranians, was the wrong side of the scale, in the midst of a war between the forces, which emerged on the wrong side. Secondly, they said that ancient Thamaran were just freed slaves who were helped and in a great war chosen as warriors, for the great war of the wars of the Atrocious beasts. When, according to the ancients, the Thamaran turned against the ancient deity of the cult, to a primordial enmity, of priests of Um-Mu who were said to have been granted the power of emotions, and the power of yellow and the fire of the sun and the power of Moon , which increased the strength of her emotions.

I asked, my voice dangerously low. “One of the dead infiltrators in the library had a secondary cipher on him,” Cassian said, his eyes darkening. “The texts are clear, Silas. The northern scholars didn’t just find the ancestral weakness—they engineered the safeguard. There is a specific, ancient herbal suppressant grown only in the high frost-valleys of Theron’s private territory. A blood-root tincture. It forces a hybrid’s dormant wolf back into a deep stagnation, neutralizing the aura pressure completely. Theron has the entire supply locked in his vault. He knew we would need it. He ran back to his fortress because he’s waiting for you to crawl to him.” A dark, savage smile slowly spread a

He bowed before he approached me “Princess Letharia had tried to fight me, I restrained her to the best of my ability, but uh, after the fight she had passed out. She vomited before she had loss of consciousness and my lord I must admit to you I am concerned. Her vomit was like black tar, but it was so acidic it was practically boiling…” “I’ll take your word on that,” I wiped my sweat using the back of my hand. I glanced over, watching my father lean against the door way. “I think… I should call her grandfather.” “Grandfather?” I asked. “Letra’s father, he cut ties with Xoria when Letra died. But since it’s about Letharia, he should come back.” Father turned his back and as he did, I sucked

for all of those boils on top of that gray skin this creature could have easily been mistaken for a rock if it sat still. It opened its mouth as far as it could go and let out a nightmarish gurgly laugh that sounded like it came from the swamp itself. Then, to the twins horror they watched as the monster flung them into the air, boat and all. It tilted it's head back with its mouth open wide as if to catch them and devour them. The twins were still clutching each other tightly when all of a sudden they heard the sound of tinkling bells. Expecting to meet the swamp monsters razor sharp teeth upon landing, they were surprised when they didn't land at all. Instead they were snatched out of mid

Her arcane eye was buzzing with activity, she could see the tendrils lashing out from the soil and dancing in a hypnotic grotesque fashion as they waved into the air. “Arcane radiation is strong her mam, but no threats spotted” six voltiirs had gone ahead and checked the area for any danger, Brasidas was leading and had just returned. “I sensed it from the boat, they look like tentacles spawning from a sea urchin. Ever seen one of those?” She asked Brasidas and the Lieutenant, who had just engaged into a deeper state of the arcane eye evident by the light red shroud that had covered their eyes.

The king looked toward the broken relic. “Did you know something would happen?” The king asked. “I didn't know she was of the Arcane bloodline,” the High Mage admitted. A few villagers gasped. Theron stepped forward, his expression hardening. “You should have known what she was before calling her a witch.” The High Mage looked at him. “I wouldn't have called her cursed if I knew she had powers that strong.” Theron stared at him. “That doesn't make what you did right.” “I was trying to prevent a catastrophe,” the High Mage insisted.

Thalen slammed his hands down on the open ledger, flipping frantically through the brittle, crumbling pages while Zeyric held the glowing mana sphere steady above the text. "Here," Zeyric pointed to a diagram sketched in the margin of the page. "An emergency pressure release. A secondary rune sequence on the eastern pillar." "Can you read the dialect?" Thalen asked, his vision swimming. "My eyes are crossing." "It's high-arcane shorthand," Zeyric muttered, squinting at the swirling glyphs. "It says... 'As below, so above. Press the twin stones in perfect synchronization.'" "Twin stones," Thalen looked across the room at two protruding granite blocks embedded in the pillar on either side of t

And awakening a certain scoundrel. “How are the rituals going?” I asked, changing the subject entirely. At once, Alaric’s shoulders sagged. “Light-gods, Grandmama wants to kill me.” I chuckled. Alaric comes from an ancient bloodline tied to the forgotten dwellers of ruins, which means he has a strong arcane tradition, old rites, and ancestral obligations to uphold. The full story was far more complicated, but the bottom line was this: his family was old, traditional, and stubborn as stone.

She continued, my strangling demon: "Dear scheming Jarngrimr hasn't stopped blathering on about you since you were conceived. Tithe to Utgardr, she says, your blood the bridge between Arcadia and the Northern Holds. Tuppence, I say. Nothing good comes of a filthy witch." The mara atop me spat in my face, her sleek auburn hair and light milky skin like the Arcadian prefects of Periland, the home of the mara race. Her large sable eyes bore into my soul, and she assumed the nightmare position, conjuring my dreams with her slender, spiked fingers in black sand. From the essence of the cloud, the mara feasted.