Wraith Folklore の小説・ストーリー

“It’s not just the world crumbling. It’s... waking up.” From above, the clouds churned unnaturally fast, spiraling around a point directly above the Watcher’s Citadel, the place they'd sworn never to return to. And yet here they were, drawn like threads back to the center of the curse. A shriek cut the air, not human, not animal, something worse. Cael looked toward the ridge. “They’re coming through,” he muttered. “Already.” The first of the wraithkind spilled through the fracture: spindly creatures, taller than men but thinner than skeletons, their translucent skin barely concealing the black fire underneath. Their mouths were always open, but the sound came from inside them, as if the scre

CHAPTER 117: THE FEAST OF THE WRAITH The "Lagos-grit" had taught me that a predator is never more dangerous than when it’s cornered, but a Wraith? A Wraith is a predator that has already lost everything, which means it has no fear of the dark.

He took a step forward— And the ground beneath them trembled. A deafening howl split the air, primal and enraged. Shadows shifted in the ruins below, moving unnaturally fast. Then, from the darkness, they emerged. Wraiths. Not quite werewolf, not quite human—twisted beings caught between forms, their bodies flickering as if reality struggled to contain them. Their eyes burned with unnatural fire, and their snarls carried the weight of the damned. Bram drew his blade. “I hate this place.” Freya’s daggers gleamed as she fell into a ready stance. “We hold our ground.”

Lucian replied grimly, stepping forward. The shadows began to take shape, humanoid figures emerging from the trees. Their forms were fluid, shifting like smoke, but their eyes burned with an eerie blue light. They moved soundlessly, circling the trio with an unsettling grace. “What are they?” Aria asked, her voice shaking despite her best efforts to remain calm. “Wraiths,” Lucian said, his voice steady. “Guardians of the forest. They don’t take kindly to trespassers.” Kael tightened his grip on his sword. “Any chance they’ll listen to reason?”

The atmosphere was charged with a sense of melancholy as if the very essence of Nyxterra was steeped in sorrow and regret. Days turned into weeks as she scoured Nyxterra for any sign of Elias. Each clue led her deeper into the heart of the world, revealing more of its dark, enigmatic nature. She encountered strange beings—phantom-like figures that seemed to drift in and out of existence, their forms barely distinguishable from the shadows around them. Some were lost souls, wandering the void of Nyxterra with no memory of their past lives. Others seemed to be guardians of the realm, watching her with inscrutable eyes.

Shadows began to form, converging into wraith-like figures, their eyes glowing an eerie blue. Aria drew her weapon, standing protectively in front of Elara. "What are those?" Zephyrus whispered, "Echoes of the past. Fragments of souls lost in the time collision." One of the wraiths moved closer, its form becoming clearer, revealing a face that Elara recognized. "That's... that's my mother!" The wraith reached out, its touch cold and draining. Elara felt memories flood back, both beautiful and painful. "Mother... I'm so sorry."

Just a little bit more of the exposure would not hurt so much. A few hours later, Sophia was carrying her injured body into the chambers of the alpha. She had been cleaning every single part of the pack's house for the last few hours including those of her peers. Her wound had stopped bleeding. However, the freshness of it still fired pain signals to her brain. The alpha's chamber was situated beyond three frontiers of powerful security in the palace. The story of the mystical vault was not far from reach. It was a rather common myth that has circulated through the members of the pack as far as she can remember. The story had it that the vault was built by one of the ancestral alphas and is

“So, she is part demon? One of Dante’s sprogs that slipped through the net?” “No,” Lucas leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees as a weary sigh escaped him. “Atlas and Amos don’t have wolf spirits remember? Chloe does; Hecate.” “Hecate? What kind of name is that?” “It’s the name of a Greek goddess. As far as we can tell, only the Wolfe line has a wolven spirit with a Greek name. Even Sierra and Alvaro don’t have them. So, how come she has one?” Lucas raised an eyebrow, hazel eyes darkening as the questions piled up. “I think we need to make a call.”

Not only am I the first ever vampire to exist, but also the first vampire that had the power of three powerful supernatural forces combined - a vampire, a witch, and a werewolf. It was the early 1700s when a witch, my mother, and a werewolf, my father, fell in love with each other. It was beautiful, and the perfect love - one that is one with nature and a beast that resides and takes care of nature and the other animals living in it. They were living peacefully with mortals and the children they were to bear. But at that time, a virus broke among mortals. Nurses and doctors reported that dead bodies in the morgue went missing. Nikleux, my mom and the most powerful witch ever, casted a conosc

The ones that can't enter Vernaden because what they have done. No one before me saw them it the flesh, let alone this close. The wraith wore armor that wasn't from this time period. I couldn't truly tell what time that was. The leader was riding a pure breed white stallion. The stallion's eyes were fiery red. The souls of the dead started leaving their bodies, dividing into two groups. The first one disappeared into the sky, while the second started changing into the wraiths so hideous that even the yalbals would be ashamed.