World Keeper Novels & Stories

“He’s right. But I remember you. I remember your first scar, your first heartbreak, your first lie.” Adanna’s eyes filled with tears. “Then remember this I’m not here to worship ghosts. I’m here to burn down the cage that holds you.” The hologram’s expression flickered sadness, pride, and something darker. “Then you’ll have to face the Keeper.” Victor stiffened. “Who’s the Keeper?” The light dimmed. The hologram’s voice shifted, metallic and cold. “The one who guards the truth.” And then, the power surged alarms blaring as the Vault came alive, walls shifting, data streams collapsing like waves of light.

“The time has come.” I glanced at him. “For what?” “For you to understand what the Keeper actually is.” I almost laughed. “After everything that has happened, you are telling me we still haven't understood that?” “We understood the title.” Eamon looked toward Caelan. “We did not understand the inheritance.” The hand above us shifted. Caelan's fingers remained curled. The creature couldn't move. “Then explain it,” I said. Eamon nodded. “The first Keeper discovered that the Hollow Arc could not be destroyed because it was not merely a creature or an energy source. It was a repository. It contained the memories, identities and accumulated power of everything it consumed.”

Mason crouched beside him. “Take your time.” Bramble looked at the sanctuary survivors. At Theo. At the glowing Keeper markings. Then back at Evander. Understanding hit Mason one second before Bramble found the word. “Keeper.” Claire covered her mouth. Bramble pointed toward the Hollow. “Keeper.” Evander’s face changed. Completely. “No.” Bramble’s markings flashed. “KEEPER.” The Hollow screamed. And every Keeper in the clearing lit up. Theo. Elara.

He wore a crown made of white metal. Cael dropped to one knee. "No." Aria looked at him. "Who is that?" Cael whispered: "The High Keeper." The man removed his helmet. He was old. But his eyes were powerful. He looked at Aria. "Last Keeper." Aria stood her ground. "Who are you?" "I am the one who has protected this universe from your kind." "My kind?" "The creators." Aria frowned. "I am not a creator." The High Keeper smiled. "That is what makes you dangerous."

Nora Hayes thought she knew the story of her life. At twenty-seven, she has learned to live with unanswered questions, failed relationships, and the painful feeling that everyone she loves eventually leaves. But when a mysterious man named Eli Carter walks into the restoration shop where she works, carrying an old voice recorder filled with recordings from her childhood, Nora discovers that her past is not what she remembers. Eli has known Nora since she was seven. For twenty years, he has kept recordings, photographs, letters, and memories that were never meant to reach her until the right time. But why did he keep them? And why did Nora's childhood friend Claire disappear without a t

That, we assumed, was that. “Kai?” Arthur said, the first to recover. “What brings you back to the frozen hinterlands?” Kai shuffled over, clutching a small, professional-looking hard drive. “I… I finished my degree. The film… it did really well. It got me an internship with a nature documentary series.” He took a deep breath, his eyes shining with a fervor we knew all too well. “They want to do an episode. Here. A full-length episode. Not just the aftermath, but… the ongoing story. The living story. The Keepers, in winter.”

If Keever’s story was true, he was indeed responsible for the murder of almost twenty people. “I knew they were coming. I tried to take the vessel but, it… it took control of me.” “Control?” Likaya felt uneasy, as she looked at the door behind her. The Keeper was just at the basement. “It spoke, not in a language but with suggestions. With emotions and I listened. Within a second, I was within the form of some gigantic creature and I. I.” Keever began to sob, holding in his tears as he faced the wall he lay against.

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.