Where The Light Falls Book Novels & Stories

“Which means?” I took a sip of wine, shrugging my shoulders. “It means what I said, that they understand me. I can’t explain it properly.” I took a step closer before I pointed towards them. “Try and look up.” He did as I told him, looking up at the sky. “The night sky has always fascinated me; it’s honest, it’s straightforward, it is as it is. It is in balance.” Our gazes met, and I felt nothing but his full attention locked on me. “There’s always light in the darkness, just as there is darkness in the light.”

" My mother sat frozen on the ground, her gaze empty as she stared at the check. Samuel's silhouette faded away. The blood on my mother's arms and legs had turned to a dark crust. The relentless sun baked her, turning her skin a deep red. Time seemed to stand still until, at last, she stirred. She lowered her head and let out a cry of despair so raw, it echoed the pain of a creature in its final moments. "Yocelyn, how could you have loved a man like that?!" Beneath the harsh sun, I broke out in a cold sweat. My heart ached as I stayed by my mother's side, wishing I could wrap her in my arms and shield her from the world. However, to protect a man like that…

They come armoured against dread. The light surprises them. Quiet. Unhurried. Moving in slow beautiful waves along surfaces that are not quite walls and not quite air. Not the light of any sun or flame or manufactured source. Something older than all of those. Something that has been here since before light had a name. At the center of it, in the place where the light is most concentrated and most still, there is a book.

Alas, no matter how gently I tried, the doll was beyond repair. It was not until the next day, when Rebecca walked by my room, that I started to snap out of it. I picked myself up off the floor. I had someone clear out the room. Silently, I moved to the desk, my eyes landing on the dusty family portrait. There they were, Rebecca and Nash. Her smile was so bright that it hurt to look at. Outside, the sky was a menacing shade of gray. I set the photo on fire with a lighter, and I watched in silence as it turned to ash.

I stepped closer to my pillar and read the words aloud: "In the heart of darkness, light must shine, But alone, its glow will fade with time. By shadow’s grace, the light is freed, Together, they are one in need." Evelina joined me, reading the rest of the inscription on her side: "Through dusk and dawn, they dance as one, For without the dark, the light is undone. When both are present, the truth is clear, Together they guide, without fear." She met my eyes, understanding lighting up in her expression. "It’s a test of balance—light and dark. Both need to work in unity to move forward."

I didn't need to think twice as I ran out, tagging closely behind him. It was already dark outside but I was so grateful for the little light that pitched in through the cracks on the wall. I take a deep breath, and the air seems sweeter, fresher. I blink repeatedly, letting my eyes adjust to the gentle glow from the moon. It's not harsh or overwhelming, it's just right. As I look back, I feel like the dungeon isn't as frightening in the light. The shadows that seemed to move and twist in the darkness now seem like mere projections of my own fears. The light chases them away, and I feel a sense of peace settle over me.

'Book forty-three of the Kingsmen Chronicles. He leaned the book back towards him and pulled it from the shelf with grace. He smiled as he looked at it in his hand, his eyes carefully considering the intricate pattern of the gold decorating the cover. Gingerly, he cracked it open, leading through the pages until at last he found the desired portion. "The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not laid hold of it," he read aloud, proclaiming the fate of the nations.

It is the light of where I actually am, which is better than the light of anywhere I imagined. I read the message twice. I show it to Lucien. He reads it. He looks at the compound windows, the February evening coming in through the east facing glass with the specific quality of winter light that carries more warmth than the season usually allows. "The light of where I actually am," he says quietly. "Yes," I say. "That is what the record is for," he says. "Getting people to the light of where they actually are, rather than the light they imagined from the distance of carrying something alone."

"Where were you when I was hit by that car? Where were you when I was abandoned in the dark and bitten by a snake? And where were you when I was drowning and fighting for my life?" The torrent of questions came one after another, suffocating him so much that he gasped. When he saw Alice's eyes reddening, he reached out instinctively to wipe away her tears, but she shoved him away with all her strength. "Don't touch me! You make me sick!" Alexander stumbled backward, hit a rock, and fell. His palm landed on broken glass, and blood began to stream out. However, that pain was nothing compared to the ache in his chest.

He gently wrapped his arm around her wrist and pulled her closer, fitting her body against his chest as if shielding her from the world. “Sleep,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving her face. **** The Kingdom of Light. It lay beyond the veil of ordinary realms, where the sky never truly darkened and the sun did not rise or set, but hovered eternally, bathing the land in a soft, living glow. The light here was not harsh or blinding; it breathed, pulsed, and responded, as though the kingdom itself was alive.