Unforgotten Night The Series の小説・ストーリー

At his nod, she turned to the gathered crowd and said, "Please, allow the night to continue. Do not forget that tonight is the beginning of the choosing. After all, we do have and very special guest and it is my please to introduce to you, Lord Tine Ri. His family once ruled these lands and were thought to have been slaughtered. However, his lineage was saved by the heir being spirited away by the captain of the guard and the child's nanny." The entire assemblage clapped, including his mate. Unbeknownst to her, she will choose him tomorrow night at the festival. He had already seen her try to chase him down in the forest. He was glad that she had not. When he had lead her to the castle ruins

Forever. -------------------------------------------END----------------------------------------------------------------------

Sarah gasped, shocked and resolved, colliding in her eyes. John stood stunned. Callen whispered, “The reversal completes the heir becomes the keeper. The keeper becomes the heir.” Clint hissed. “No!” He lunged for Sarah. John sprang in front of her. His fist met Clint’s blow, sparks flew, the ground cracked, but the world shifted again. The Forgotten rose, not as monsters, not as pawns, they were alive, eyes filled with memory, anger and hope. They parted clearing a path toward Clint and the shattered crown.

There was a poem written on the piece of paper, it read; ‘The love is bitter, unforgotten and deep, But he has promises to keep, Tormented with nightmares he never sleeps, Revenge is a promise a man should keep’ Charlotte spun round to see if there was anyone around watching her. She put the note into her bag and jumped into her car, confused by the poem and wanting to find safety at home; she drove away.

Upon learning that I had changed my name, he did a little digging and found out the truth about college. Someone blew the whistle on Tanner. The school expelled him. The administration hoped to bring me back, but once they heard that I had ended my life, the matter was dropped. Wandering in the big city with no purpose in life, Tanner spiraled hard into gambling. By the time I drifted back to Jean’s side, she was having poker night with her girls, chatting between hands. The conversations among the village women often revolved around three topics. Husbands, children, and the land were the only things they knew.

When the officers broke the door open, they discovered four bodies slumped around a dining table, with a pot of poisoned chicken soup in the middle. The story stirred up some talk around town, but new headlines soon buried it. The tragedy of that family quietly faded from memory, and no one ever spoke of it again.

"The world is shifting. Changing. I can feel it." He studies my face, his silver eyes searching. "What do you mean?" "The Forgotten are back. But their return has unbalanced something. The threads of reality are fraying." "Threads?" I close my eyes, reaching for the sensation. "Everything is connected. Past, present, future. The Forgotten were erased, but they were still part of the pattern. Now they are back, and the pattern is adjusting." "How do we fix it?" "I do not know." The next morning, Freya arrives with troubling news.

I couldn’t even think straight now that I got all razzled by his smile, the one that was meant just for me. ‘Get your head on straight, Morgan. You have to win this.’ A nudge in my side from Tara brought me back to the moment. The other team was done negotiating amongst themselves and were now ready with their answer. The girl stood tall and proud. I knew that she had the right answer. “Our answer is the fimbriae.” A loud clap and yell of ‘wrong’ rang out through the auditorium. Everyone, including the girl who gave the answer, looked over at Ethan. He slumped back in his chair and covered his face with his hands.

I smiled as we both held hands. "I know, anyway, I'm focused on the road. Rest for now, it looks like we're still far away." He resigned and I followed what he said. I leaned back and put on earphones. I looked outside for a moment before closing my eyes, whispering to myself; I love you BenChua but we are part of the mistake. We are the piece of Unforgiven Sins. Little by little I felt the weight of my eyelids and the only thing I heard from the song I was playing was I love you, goodbye.

Troubled, because she sensed something darker beneath the quiet. It was her third day when she first noticed the pattern. Every evening at exactly six o'clock, the villagers would gather at the old well — the same well that had gone dry a century ago. They would stand in a circle, still as statues, for exactly fifteen minutes. Then, without a word, they would disperse. Eleanor asked her landlord, a kind old man named Thomas, what the ritual meant. Thomas paused for a long time before answering. "That's the watching hour," he said finally. "We watch for the return."