Novel & Cerita Where The Spirits Have Lease Oblivion

But the voices of the damned who wished to be freed from the underworld and possess bodies of the living. Méah's vision swirled as though the whole world was melting. The voices filled her head that it felt like it's going to explode. While she was numbed at these, Purple Smoke began her ritual. She stood in front of the black crystal, both hands touching the jar where it was enclosed. She murmured an unknown evil language that made Méah even more dizzy. Méah wished to be dead at this moment. It was making her crazy that she began to smash the back of her head on the wall behind her. But Purple Smoke stopped her by freezing her neck forward.

The forbidden love that became eternal. I nodded and rested my head on his shoulder. Yes I whispered. Eternal. No matter who watches from the dark. The family gathered closer around the fire as the night went on. Hope and Alex danced under the stars. The grandchildren played in the sand. Mia and Daniel shared quiet smiles. Elias told stories that made everyone laugh. We sat together watching the next generation begin their own journeys. The obsession had transformed into something beautiful. A story of survival and love that would endure forever. Yet in the quiet corners of the night the whisper of danger remained. A reminder that some flames never truly go out.

“What are—” “You came here. The same one that took her?” “No, we—” “And then, behind him,” Mic There was a figure that was tall and thin, barely beginning to reveal itself, crossing the ceiling. Like a plume of smoke. It was one of the spirits. The features warped in a scream as it swung back around Ezra. "Ezra.. "He didn't turn," ‘He just didn’t notice that.’ He never saw them. The sightless eyes of the ghost were on me, mouth open as though about to speak.

"Move aside." The spirit tilted its head, as if considering his words. Then, with a flick of its ethereal hand, it gestured to the rest of the spirits, and they parted, allowing the group to pass. But the leader’s voice lingered in the air, like a warning. "Beware, Crimson Fated," it intoned. "The Heart will demand its price. Be prepared for what is to come." With that, the spirits disappeared into the wind, leaving the group in a heavy silence. Aria’s heart was still racing, the weight of the spirit’s words pressing down on her like a tangible force.

Each step pulsed with a strange obsidian glow. Etched into every stone: a name. Brides. Blood. Sins. And at the bottom—there stood a door. Not open. But waiting. In this place, the voice of time itself echoed. And the ancient narrator knew: this was not a realm of punishment or reward. It was not hell. Not heaven. It was the origin. Where the bridal spirits were first made—not born of love, but of contract. A pact between two forces: the will of man, and the hunger of spirits.

they murmured in unison, their voices blending into one rumbling entity. "It’s not." I took a step forward. "The innocents you are murdering were once just like you—unfairly deprived of existence over a cause they had no hand in. The gates to the afterlife remain inaccessible. The more you kill, the more the number of the dead increases. My body cannot channel you all, and the more you kill, the more rotten your souls become. You will be rejected from passing on. You will become slaves of the underworld, forever used for an agenda with no rest in sight. Do you truly desire such a future?" The spirits hissed, contemplating my words.

She looked around and saw no one. Instead she came face to face to the street view. She held onto the bannister and lazily leaned on them as she gazed at the dark silhouettes in the night. Their apartment building is located in a secluded part of their town and on the far front is the Alterax woods. The trees lined up in front with some infested with fireflies making them look shimmering.

The orbs of light ascended higher and higher, gradually dissipating into the inky expanse of the night, leaving behind a profound sense of awe and triumph. Lady Amber's voice cut through the crackling of the dwindling flames, her words carrying an air of ancient wisdom. "They’re the spirits," she began, "that the demon had kept locked up in hell while feeding off of their pain. Those spirits are now going to heaven where they really belong." I watched in awe as the multitude of glowing orbs ascended into the night sky, their collective ascent like a choir of souls finding redemption. But then, amongst this celestial congregation, one orb caught my attention.

For a mate who never truly chose me. Never again. "I'm not," I whispered, shifting away from his touch. I wasn't his Luna. I was a bargaining chip traded for power between packs. A broodmare. A servant in my den. A shadow in my children's lives. Thirty years of swallowing pain and keeping quiet. Enough. I looked Ethan straight in the eye. "I want a dissolution. I want the bond severed." His face darkened, then returned to its usual icy calm. He left without another word, slamming the door behind him.

I replied. "My name is Lethe, personified spirit of the river of forgetfulness and goddess of oblivion. I’m afraid aside from the rescue, I have troubled you further. The reason you feel weak is because as I was unconscious, my body automatically searched for a source of life energy so I could regain consciousness. I am truly sorry, young Ross," she apologised very sincerely. Personified spirit, that proves I’m in a different dimension. "Don’t worry about it; it’s not like I died. Sooooo, goddess of oblivion, is it? That’s pretty intense. Is that why the enemy is after you?" I asked as I swallowed from nervousness.