The Spell Casters' Quest.

The Spell Casters' Quest.

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WpMetadataNoticeÚltima publicación vie, sep 4, 2026
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Ficción
Acción y Suspenso
Ezekiel, summoner-slash-tracker for hire has been given an important job by an important nobleman from the capital. To find spellcasters who can perform an ancient, magical number-one said to only be managed by a spelldancer and a spellsinger with the secret knowledge, skill and magic. Given that this piece is said to have been last performed three centuries ago, Ezekiel expects to find some troubles in his quest. He's used to the usual ones-apparent dead ends, rival spellcasters, harsh terrain, dark magic, to mention but a few. This quest, however, seems different in that regard. A force to reckon with and a threatening addiction, the spell dancer he finally finds proves to be a most unusual trouble. Miria has used her spelldancing magic for minute, day-to-day activities. In her work as a bar dancer and sometimes, in swatting two or more trouble-causing pests. With some of the pests she oh-so-graciously swatted out for her blood, Miria accepts the opportunity to leave her district and use her magic for much more-something meaningful, something sacred, and something that is sure to challenge her. Her choice had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that it was a handsome, eccentric, somewhat intimidating summoner that asked her.
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He held the gun against her temple. She pounded on his chest, fists flying. "You killed my father! You... you monster! I hate you!" He didn't flinch. After a moment, his patience snapped. "Enough!" he shouted. "No more words." "Yes... I killed your father. I did." "Stop screaming!"he barked. He grabbed her jaw, forcing her to look at him. "Now... it's time to get married. Let's go. The priest is waiting. We don't want to make him wait, do we... hmm?" She spat on his face. He just smirked. Licked the spit from his lips, rolling his tongue. "Mmm... tasty," he said, voice low. "You should've kissed me directly. No worries... we'll do it after our wedding." He leaned closer. "Do you want to see his dead body... hmm? One last look at your father?" She whispered, trembling, "Please... let me go." " You don't want to? Okay... let me throw his body away then." "No! I... I want to see him, please. He is my father !" "Good girl," he said, smirk still dark. "Now... come on. The priest is waiting." 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘰𝘮. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘯. 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴. 𝘗𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦. 𝘈 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘦. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘸... 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘮. "You're mine now," he whispered, like it was a promise... or a curse. Kidnapped. Trapped. Claimed. In a world where power means everything, she becomes the obsession of a man everyone fears, the devil himself. Escape was never an option. Falling for him? That was her biggest mistake.

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