angel_writes00

A story about a place that neither exists in maps or history books, this place was called Athame.

•••

"The root of every fear is the unknown, yet how can one fear what they cannot grasp? Tch... how misleading." His voice, deep and rough, sent an involuntary shiver through her as he closed the distance between them with deliberate steps, his presence suffocating in its intensity.

With a slow, predatory grace, his fingers brushed along her jaw, settling on a strand of her scarlet hair, his touch deceptively tender. "Knowing me will matter little," he whispered darkly, his breath warm against her skin. "For even in the shadows of uncertainty, you will come to fear... and desire me all the same."

•••

Aricia, born with extraordinary abilities in a world that fears anything out of the ordinary, was destined for a marriage alliance to secure peace between kingdoms. 

But on the day of her engagement, her entire family is slaughtered—by the very family she was meant to marry into. 

Grief-stricken and consumed by vengeance, Aricia swore to destroy those who betrayed her. She would wield the very power they had feared against them, seeking justice with no mercy. After years on the run, she found shelter within an elemental clan, hiding her abilities and keeping to the shadows.

But her carefully constructed peace shattered in a single moment. A burning touch, a chance encounter with his haunting gray eyes—an unknown force within her stirred, threatening to unravel her carefully guarded secrets and the fragile balance of magic, madness, and vengeance she had built....

Vengeance Through Passion

'Today is now THE WORST DAY OF MY LIFE.' 


Like a specter in the wind, he muttered something—too low for anyone to hear—before lunging six feet into the air. His body twisted mid-air, his sword sliding free from its sheath with a metallic whisper. The blade caught the light, gleaming in the dim, sickly glow of the Noctharis' eerie presence. But then—nothing. 


Arthur’s descent was quick, brutal. Gravity reclaimed him as if his body had never left the ground. The blue mist that had danced around his fingertips flickered—and died. He landed with a heavy thud, his knees bending, his grip tightening around his sword in frustration. 


The air smelled of rot. Of something old. Something watching. 


Arthur turned to the others, his expression grim. 


“So… I think magic doesn't work here anymore.” 


Chapter 68| The Worst Day Of My Life