World Keeper Novels & Stories

I relayed to him everything we had in our conversation. "That's right, my lady," Connor agreed. "But that excludes us. Conrad and I are your keepers so you don't need to have mistrust on us," he spoke with assurance. "Keeper?" I raised my head and our eyes met. "Uhuh, every guardian has a keeper," he started explaining. "I and Conrad are your keepers. Prince Marcus' keepers are Hugo and Seb. Prince Matias is ---," "The breakfast is ready, come now so we can head to Mount Siera early," Conrad has spoken cutting his brother's words.

She turned to look at Jesse. He smiled back at K. "You can have it," he wheedled, heading towards the mounted shelves on the brick wall to power on his Marshall speakers. He shuffle played his iPod on the dock, it played Walls by Kings of Leon. "Levi gave that to me." He muttered, walking to the kitchen to get some bottles of beer, and whatever was available to offer K. "Want some beer?"

I open the bag. A key glints in my palm. Old-fashioned, heavy, not a practical key at all—one of those glossy, romantic replicas, long neck, ornate head cut into a heart if you tilt it, into a blade if you don't. A tiny metal tag hangs from black thread: MINE on one side, TO KEEP on the other. The room tilts. Sound drops out to a pinpoint. The kettle clicks in the kitchen; I'd forgotten I'd put it back on. My phone buzzes with a calendar ping. The spreadsheet waits on my screen.

she demanded. The mist parted, revealing a woman in a silver gown, her hair floating as though underwater. Her eyes gleamed like mirrors, empty and endless. “I am what remains when a goddess dies,” the woman said. “You may call me the Keeper.” Aria took a step back, her power flaring brighter. “What do you want?” The Keeper tilted her head. “I want balance. You’ve disturbed it.” Aria’s brow furrowed. “By saving him?” “By binding him,” the Keeper corrected. “Kael was never meant to carry the mark. Now the serpent’s shadow festers inside him, feeding on your light.”

The Keeper, its gaze fixated on the glowing shard, remarked, "That artifact you hold, it doesn't belong here, nor do you. Yet, its power resonates with the very essence of this realm." Dupree, drawing his weapon and standing protectively in front of the group, demanded, "What do you want from us?" The Keeper, its voice a whispering echo of countless voices, responded, "A trade. A moment from each of you, a memory of utmost importance, in exchange for safe passage." Moros, skeptical, questioned, "How can we trust you? How do we know you won't take our memories and leave us stranded?" Lysandra, analyzing the Keeper's fluctuating form, noted, "It's made of memories, lost moments. Perhaps our me

If it were an average human, the response would be to scream or run away, rather than calmly asking, “Who are you?” "I'm from the Quilue tribe." Wolfgang kept his promise. When she told him her true identity, he would also reveal his true identity. "Immortals human?" "Right" Selina nodded. She knew from Quilue. They are human but can regenerate and become immortal. The Quilue are people standing between humans and wolves. They must protect and keep the peace between the two species. “What did you come here for?” Selina was silent, then said, “Learn about people.”

They had been very unwelcoming to other housekeepers, at a point she thought they needed therapy to help them deal with the loss. No matter how she tried to fill the void of both a father and a mother, she wasn’t able to. There was still something lacking. The last housekeeper was great. She had no criminal records deterring her from keeping her job. The biggest mistake she had made was trying to plot the kidnap of the kids. She wanted a huge payday. She was probably awed by the wealth and riches of Kesa that she wanted a taste of it. Well, she had gotten a taste, but definitely not a taste of what she wanted.

Robert Blackwell promised to marry me, then postponed it thirty-eight times. The fifth time, a car crash broke eight of his ribs, and I signed seven critical-condition notices. The tenth time, on the way to get our marriage license, he and the car were thrown into the sea, and his suit was torn apart by sharks. By the thirty-eighth time, his heart disease had worsened and his life was hanging by a thread. Eight months pregnant, I changed flights three times and flew twenty-three hours across half the world to find him. When the door opened, a little boy who looked exactly like him lifted his face and said, "I thought Mom was back." Robert rushed out barefoot, panic written all over his

Nobody had possessed the grace to look past the widespread destruction, past the rampaging monster, and past the existential fear to see the agonizing hurt buried underneath. Aurora began crying openly, her silver light pulsing softly. Suddenly, she understood the architecture of the beginning. The Keeper was not a warrior destined to tilt the scales, nor were they a ruler meant to command the gods. The Keeper was a witness. They were the guardian of primordial balance, the one tasked with remembering what everyone else forgot. Including forgiveness. Luca stood at the dead center of the Source, watching, listening, and learning as the ancient truths settled into his mind.

After my sister-in-law Lydia had my brother Caleb's kidney removed and spent three years draining his blood, he escaped back to our hometown barely alive. He lay on a bed at the clinic, holding my hand tight as he said, "Noah, don't go after them. You can't afford to cross Lydia's family." Three days later, he died in my arms. I buried him on the hillside behind the town, under the old oak tree he had loved to climb as a child. On the seventh day after I buried him, a black Maybach stopped at the edge of town. Lydia got out with a frail man who looked like he could fall over at any time. She stood outside my house's door and looked at me. "Noah, where's your brother? Tell him to come o