Wraith Folklore Novels & Stories

“And The Saint.” “Wraith? That’s a name I haven’t heard in a very long time. He was a special wolf, you know. They say he was the first wolf spirit.” Ace plays with the button on his white coat. “The story goes, Selene was enamored by a human, Endymion. She asked Zeus’s permission to have a relationship with him. Zeus agreed. He did not know that Selene was in cahoots with Hecate to create an animal spirit to merge with the human. That was Wraith. Wraith’s spirit was… or so I thought… immortal. In theory, if one of the merged spirits is immortal and someone kills the mortal spirit, the mortal spirit would keep being reunited with the immortal spirit and become reincarnated.” “What happened?”

She drew a new sigil from her own vein. She slit her wrist and let the dark river flow, chanting in the Tongue of Broken Thrones. The walls wept. The floor cracked open. And the powers answered her, not just one, but there were many. The first was the Ash-Wraiths,spirits of oath-breakers, bound to serve the one who speaks their true name. Morwen whispered it, and they bowed. The second was the Bone Speakers,elders of the dead, their voices like grinding stones. They offered her their breath, and she inhaled it like wine.

At one point, Ava saw a vision of her mother kneeling on the ground, cradling an infant in her arms—her. She froze. The others noticed. "What is it?" Ashton asked, tension in his shoulders. Ava blinked. The vision faded. "I saw her. Holding me. She was... crying." As if summoned by the memory, a ripple of magic burst through the air. And with it, came the wraiths. Shadows solidified from mist, taking wolf-like shapes with elongated jaws and smoky fangs. Their eyes glowed with ley-fire, hollow and endless. Kaelin didn't wait. "Wraiths! Defensive circle!"

“What do you mean?” “There’s a… shadow,” he said, his voice dropping low, intimate. “Something ancient, older than the Red Fang. My scouts caught glimpses… they call it a wraith. It moves with the forest, but it’s not part of it. It hunts, and it knows we are aware.” A shiver ran down her spine. The Heartwood pulsed beneath her feet, a subtle, warning tremor. “Then we face two threats,” she whispered. “And one is beyond anything we’ve confronted.”

“Whatever this is, it’s linked to the Heartstone’s corruption. I must confront it.” A shape emerged at the edge of the fog — a twisted, wolf-like figure dragging itself across the ground. Its fur was patchy, its ribs visible, and its eyes glowed an eerie, cold blue. Luna’s breath caught. “Moon-wraiths…” Kai froze. “Impossible. Those haven’t existed since the First War.” “They exist now,” she said softly. More shapes stepped into view, their bodies flickering like half-formed spirits. Rowan unsheathed his sword. “They’re approaching.”

She understood that, but it didn’t have her eager to line up to meet the broadside of an angry Highlander’s sword. The darkness seemed to be growing, and it had a malevolent tinge to it. She shivered as she wondered if it were her imagination, or if there was witchcraft involved in the darkening fog. She wasn’t the only witch Walstone kept as a prisoner, but she didn’t think they had caught up with her yet.

Just as how humans react strongly to mythical beings, the Mythical beings also didn't want to intrude humans live and lived in their perspective lands. In Runalia, there was a place where all humans would love to visit and that was Afgard. Other than its beauty and for being the main city of the Runalia, Afgard was best known for its slave and the black market. The patrons to the market weren't only sorcerers who searched for sacrifice, but also lustful nobles with the frightening hobby.

Konoiki screamed. "That is a Wraith mist," I thought to myself. I had read about it in the chronicles of the last great war. A lot was said about mists like this but the most important thing said was that they only emerge before great catastrophes, conjured up by only the most powerful dark mages. " I guess my foolish brother was right, we have a dark mage to deal with," I murmured.

the warriors start murmuring among themselves. "Isn't the woods declared to be dangerous for now? When did Prince Lucian found his mate? Is the rumor about a witch in Crisinda true?" The warriors asked among themselves while Russell paused for them to digest the piece of information he just passed before he continue. "Due to the rise in rogue sighting and the fruitless effort of the king to reach the prince, it is feared that the prince has most likely been abducted but we don't know where," another round of murmuring broke out among the warriors.

"The Shadow-Stream assassins I killed... they were just the vanguard. Vane didn't just send men. He sent Wraith-Wolves." Ariyah’s face went pale. Wraith-Wolves were forbidden—creatures of the Shadow Realm bound to their masters by blood magic. They didn't hunt by scent; they hunted by the frequency of the soul. And right now, Aeron’s soul was a beacon that could be seen from the stars. "We have to move," Kael said, his Alpha authority returning out of necessity. "The cavern is a tomb. If they trap us in here, we’re finished." "I’m not going anywhere with you," Ariyah said, though her grip on Aeron tightened.