Valyria Language Novels & Stories

Wait. “Valoria? V-vampire?” I stuttered. My heart sank when I realized it. “Yes. Valoria. Realm of Vampires …”

Elara asked, her voice hushed. Kael's grip on his weapon tightened. "Voices on the wind. A language I can't quite make out." Valen's eyes held a thoughtful gleam. "Ancient tongues, perhaps. The forest is trying to communicate with us."

What did Valen mean by saying I have much to do? "Be honest with me, Calia," I venture, unable to suppress my curiosity any longer. "What is going on in Lyria?" She halts abruptly, her demeanor shifting, her words laced with a venomous edge that sends a shiver down my spine. "Nothing that concerns you," she retorts icily, her disdain palpable. "Daelan mentioned something about otherlings. What are they?"

Just that he cooed irritatingly like he had not presumed that. Alas, it showed his self and pinned Valen to a tree nearby. Ryley's might vision can very well see the shadow figure pressing Valen. It was not likeable at all. "Valen." He hissed, he cannot stand his mate being touched by someone else other than him. "Shhagj yujhf. Hgdvii. Hjhg" Zalreth talked in an alien language. Niether Valen nor Ryley could comprehend that. Ryley saw how he leaned forward while speaking constantly. A point came where he stopped just across her lips and asked, "Give me the Rex Stone, my queen" his that question and Ryley was standing on his legs.

Narrowing my eyes at the one who talked to my mom before holding back a snarl; once they were closer, Valentina speaks to them in the same language as before. “ሀ ኑሃካ ኲጤ የኴኪ ኲኑሀኴ ኒሃኡህየሃህኪ ኲጤ ህኪኲ ኑኪጣ ኴኲሃጣኲ ቧጣኪሃኲኑሀኡህ ሃህሃሀኡ.”

I smiled at my daughter, Ely after the plane took off and we were already up in the sky. "I am, mommy. Brave just like you!" Ely smiled at me so widely. "That's right, mi vida. Brave just like mommy." Valerian kissed Ely's on her forehead. I smiled upon hearing Valerian's pet name for Ely. He calls her mi vida which translates to my life. Ely is our life. She gave us a new purpose. She gave us life. Ely suddenly pouted, getting sad. I quickly creased my forehead, getting worried. "What happened, baby? Something hurt, Ely? What's wrong?"

She has opinions about objects — which ones are worth holding and which ones are not — that Pep continues to identify as ceramicist instincts and that Valentina continues to observe with the quiet attention of someone watching a person arrive at their own nature. She speaks in full sentences now, in both Catalan and Spanish, with occasional English words that Ethan has introduced without program or intention — just the natural absorption of a child who is always listening. Her current favourite sentence, directed at anyone who tries to rush her: "Espera, estic mirant." (Wait, I'm looking — in Catalan, her default language at home, a sentence she appears to have constructed herself rather tha

he confessed truthfully before shifting away from there. On the other hand, Valmore took Lola directly into one of his homes without being noticed by his brethren. Malik would recognise her as the mate of that dragon, and he would raise unnecessary questions which Valmore doesn't want to answer. He has more than one house. His people only prefer to live on trees, where they constructed houses using wood from the fallen trees. His small village is named as the Valhalla, which means a place of honour. His entire village is filled with tall trees with thick branches, heavily scented flowers and tasty fruits. Even one in his village has a hut or a home on one of the tree branches.

“Kyrian grabbed both of Ira’s wrists with one hand and pressed her hands tightly to the floor above her head. With his other hand, he roughly tore the neck of the white shirt, leaving deep scratches on the girl’s skin. The brown-haired man licked a drop of blood from her shoulder, then took a loud, drawn-out breath. -Your blood smells so wonderful... Sharp fangs pierced the tender neck. Ira screamed... Valya gathered all her strength and will. She had not used the other side of her abilities for many years. She liked saving lives much more than taking them. But she still knew something. Having ordered Ilyana to hide in the far hall, she prepared for the attack.

The liquid clung to her skin, as she leaned over Kaerith, tracing a trembling line across her forehead. Her lips moved. “Zhar’kun vel morrak… thren kai’sol, na’drel ven.” The words rolled heavily to belong to the language Mia knew. Velcira’s hand pressed harder against Kaerith’s skin, and she whispered again, lower, as if forcing the words into Kaerith’s blood. “Ar’vola sekthar… drom ven’kai, sul’ven drekh.” “If she survives tonight,” Velcira whispered at last, “then perhaps she was never meant to die at his hand.”