Wraith Folklore Novels & Stories

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!"

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."

I pat his knee, “It’s not your fault, I think the magic was just able to grow over the centuries it’s been here. It was sentient almost, and didn’t want me to have any claim on Brax.” Brax’s face pales as he watches me. “I did this?” “No, tattoos, you didn’t. The spirits within the land did.” I sigh, the healing magic warming through my body. “The forest here is very old. She will protect us now.” “Yeah… guys…” Rhett says again, " I don’t think we need to worry about that right now. I think we have bigger problems ahead of us.” “Like what?” I ask, leaning my head on his shoulder.

"Do you think you’ve found anything useful?" Brian nodded slowly. "I’ve come across some references to an ancient entity known as the Shadow Wraith. It’s a creature from old legends, said to feed on fear and despair. According to the stories, it was imprisoned long ago by a powerful sorcerer who managed to bind it using a series of enchanted symbols. The legends say that if the symbols are disturbed or weakened, the Shadow Wraith could break free and wreak havoc." Marinetta’s eyes widened as she listened. "That sounds like what we saw in the ruins. Do you think it’s possible that the Shadow Wraith is what we’re dealing with?"

[Elara's POV] [Lost her memory of past few days] I backed away as the creature launched its attack. Clutching the sword from the temple, I struck at it, but the blade passed through its misty fog as if it were nothing. I knew it wasn’t my mother. The Echo Wraith always appeared as a familiar face—a loved one, a long-lost friend, or a figure from the victim’s past—only to grotesquely distort and morph into a disturbing mask of anguish or malevolence. The expressions on its face are exaggerated and twisted, reflecting the lies and deceit it preys upon. One moment it might seem sorrowful, and the next, it could sneer with malevolence. Its misty form occasionally shimmers with an eerie glow that

He crunched down and tilted his head to a side, then pointed inside and murmured: “You draw another symbol, though. This one is known for a pup.” Oh. So the symbol is two mixed up? “The wrafter is a ghost-like creature that can only be seen by the person that controls them and only obeys her/his orders. Wrafter is rare and powerful. Frankly, I have never met one before, so I only know very little of this.” He raised his eyes to meet mine and stood up while explaining. Why would I see a symbol of it? What’s the meaning behind it? “So they are like the magical creature as vampires and werewolves?”

Noah came up sooner, and the two of them stood side by side, staring at the starry sky. "They are coming," Noah said in a deep worried voice, his cheerfulness have disappeared suddenly. "Who?" Pascal asked in confusion, Noah glanced at him "your past?" Pascal's face fell, and Noah continued "the people you remember will keep returning, till all of them awaken, who do you remember recently?" Pascal furrowed his eyebrows, and the person he remembered was Galore, the vampire with four arms, he is known for killing innocent humans and werewolves.

It was a protective gesture that had become a habit over the last few days, one that Scarlett found herself leaning into more than she cared to admit. "It’s the Blood-Wraith," Scarlett replied, her fingers tightening around the cold jade handle of her cinnabar brush. "A creature born of centuries of greed and violent ends. It doesn't just kill; it feeds on the memories of the soul." They were met at the door by a stone-faced butler who led them deep into the bowels of the mansion. The elevator descended far below the basement level, eventually opening into a damp, stone corridor lit only by flickering gas lamps. At the end of the hall stood a massive bronze vault door, etched with ancient ru

She never understands herself at this moment. Something has changed, and she knows it. "Do you know why they call it the Forest of the Dead?" He asked her to lick her lips in thought, but she denied. saying, "No, do you know?" He laughed, deciding to explain to her, "It is said that in the past, the king of werewolves found his mate here in this forest. His grandchildren and children come here every once in a while, hoping that they will find their companions too, but a girlfriend

He shifted and Davey’s gaze snapped toward him. He scrambled backwards and Jake pulled the pistol from the holster under his jacket. “I’d advise against that.” “What do you want?” Davey swallowed nervously, and Jake couldn’t figure out how this man sold information for a living. “I want to know what you know about Wrath,” he said. “He’s a nomad. He does solo jobs for MC’s, jobs they can’t do themselves,” Davey said. Jake nodded his head. “Heard he was patching in.”