Novels by Artemis Dee

The serpent’s tunnel narrowed into a throat of stone, the walls pressing close like clenched jaws. The air grew blistering hot, thick with the stench of sulfur and scorched minerals, each breath clawing at Zarek’s lungs. Smoke clung to the rock like damp cobwebs, curling in slow, choking tendrils. He pressed forward, each step a battle against the heat that wrapped around him like a living thing. The walls pulsed with a dull, ominous glow—veins of magma threading through the stone like arteries, casting flickering shadows that danced like phantoms.It was as if he were walking deeper into the belly of a beast. The mountain breathed—a slow, rumbling exhale that vibrated beneath his boots. It growled in its depths, a constant, guttural sound that echoed through the tunnel, broken only by the sharp hiss of escaping steam. Zarek wiped the sweat from his brow, though it did little good; his skin was already slick, his armor burning hot against his back.Then he heard it.Not the groan of s

The Ulmfang Mountains rose out of the void like the jagged ribs of some ancient titan, their peaks black and sharp, lost in storm clouds that never parted. No sun ever touched this place. The world here was stone, storm, and silence. Lightning arced across the cliffs in eerie silence, and the growl of thunder rumbled low in the mist, like the beastly breath of the mountain itself. The air was heavy with heat, as though the bones of the world burned beneath the rock. Each gust of wind carried with it the scent of scorched earth and ozone, mingling with the faint, metallic tang of distant ash. The sky above was a churning, bruised canvas of slate and smoke, crackling with energy that never released its fury fully—only hints like whispers. The mountains did not merely loom—they loathed. There was something in the silence that smothered sound, a weight that pressed into the chest and curled cold fingers around the heart. Every stone seemed placed with purpose, like pieces of a vast monume

The wheels of the carriage groaned beneath Zarek as it pulled away from the spires of Arcvale Academy, grinding over weatherworn stones slick with dew and old magic. The sound was rhythmic, almost hypnotic, like a chant murmured by the bones of the road itself. Morning mist clung to the ground in gauzy layers, curling around the base of the trees like fingers reluctant to let go. Behind him, the sunrise painted the sky in hues of gold and crimson, as though the world itself bled light across the horizon. But Zarek did not look back. He couldn't afford to. If he looked, he might see his mother still whispering his name under her breath, might see Ren’s half-hearted grin faltering, or Aven’s eyes burning with all the words she hadn't yet spoken.And if he saw them, he might not keep walking.He clenched his jaw and pressed his palm harder against the worn seat, willing the ache behind his ribs to stay silent. This was not the time for doubt, or for mourning, or for anything soft.The Ac

The iron doors slammed shut behind him like a judge’s final decree, sealing Zarek inside a chamber of nightmares. The sudden darkness pressed against his skin like a second, colder flesh, an invasive presence that seeped into his bones. His boots dragged across the tiles, slick with old blood, blackened chemicals, and something far fouler, a viscous slime that spoke of unspeakable experiments. Each step left red trails that vanished into the oppressive gloom of the maze of horrors around him. The silence was not empty. It breathed with the low hum of dormant machinery. It watched with the palpable weight of a thousand unseen eyes. It judged him for the sin of being alive within its profane grasp.Malrik’s private lab was no place for mortals. It was a cathedral of twisted science and desecrated magic, a perverse sanctuary where the boundaries of life were not just crossed but obliterated. Towering vats filled with churning blue ichor lined the walls, each one a prison for atrocities i

The double doors hissed open with a burst of steam and a hollow clang, like the exhale of a dying machine. Two armored guards shoved Zarek forward, their grip iron and merciless. He stumbled into the chamber beyond, his boots hitting the frostbitten floor with a loud crunch that echoed through the silent, frozen air. The doors sealed shut behind him with a metallic slam that sounded far too final. He was alone.The cold struck him like a weapon. Not the kind of cold that numbed the skin — this cold reached inside him, stabbing into his bones, sinking its claws into his spine. The walls were wrapped in creeping frost, spidering across the steel in patterns that pulsed with dim blue light. It felt less like a room and more like a tomb—ancient, sterile, and merciless. In the middle stood a towering cryo-tank, massive and cylindrical, humming with a low, almost mournful energy. Tubes slithered out from its base, burrowing into the floor like roots from a mechanical tree.Inside the tank,

The heavy steel door slammed shut behind Zarek. The loud, metal sound broke the silence like a scream trapped in iron, echoing down the dark, narrow halls underground. This wasn’t just a door closing—it felt like his fate was being sealed. The air smelled of rust and old wet stone, the kind of smell that clings to your skin and reminds you of death. Zarek didn’t move. He leaned against the freezing concrete wall, the cold sinking into his bones like something alive, slowly eating at him. He breathed through clenched teeth, each breath tasting of mold, metal, and something sharp and strange—a scent he feared without knowing why. Even in the darkness, small flames danced around his knuckles. They gave off no warmth and brought no comfort. They flickered silently, like they were feeding on old memories, refusing to disappear—just like the past he couldn’t forget.The visions came back, as they always did—unwanted and cruel. He saw the villagers again. Their faces were frozen, lifeless an

The students exchanged looks, some nodding as they understood, while others seemed unsure. The Cleansing Pool was the center of this test—an ancient magical artifact used for generations to reveal the true nature of a student’s water magic. Its waters were believed to show not only the color of a student’s magic but also their potential, unlocking the creature they would control and the abilities they would master.The teachers stood in a semicircle around the pool, their robes gently swaying in the morning breeze, watching with close attention. The Cleansing Pool glowed softly in the early light, its surface still and clear, reflecting the faces of the students.“Step forward, and may your magic be revealed,” the Headmaster said.One by one, the students were called. The first student, a tall girl with striking Crimson Red robes, stepped forward. She inhaled deeply before entering the pool, her foot barely making a ripple as she walked. The water stirred, and as the swirling waters e

The Festival of Beasts and Wonders was an annual event that everyone at the academy took part in. It was a time for students to show off their magical skills in creative—and often strange—ways. The name was a perfect fit for the event, as it combined magical creatures, enchanted artifacts, and incredible displays of talent and illusion. It was said that the festival was only rivaled by the magical history of Drakthorin City itself.Enzo’s eyes grew wide as they walked past a group of students setting up a giant, enchanted cage. Inside, a shimmering, multi-colored creature floated lazily in the air—half bird, half dragon. Its wings folded and unfolded with every movement, sending ripples of light across the courtyard.“Is that a real creature?” Enzo asked, a mix of awe and curiosity in his voice.“Partly,” the girl with curly hair replied. “That’s a blend of a phoenix and a wyvern, called a 'Pyrahar.' It’s one of the most popular attractions at the festival—people come from all over ju

Enzo nodded, his curiosity growing. “Sounds like a celebration of everything this city stands for—its cultures, its myths, its art.”The festival was going to be huge—performers dressed as mythical creatures like fire-breathing dragons and winged beasts, acrobats doing gravity-defying stunts, and fire-eaters performing tricks that would make anyone's heart race. As night fell, fireworks would light up the sky, and glowing lanterns would float gently down the river. The whole city would come alive with music, dance, and celebration. Finn and Enzo could already feel the excitement buzzing through the air.“This is just the beginning, isn’t it?” Finn asked, his voice full of wonder.Enzo smiled, taking in the preparations. “Definitely. Drakthorin has a way of making everything feel bigger, more alive. And we’re here for it.”They walked towards the Arcane Academy, and as they got closer, they noticed the tall arch above the entrance. It had the school's symbol on it—an open book with win

Enzo glanced at the pass, then looked ahead to the narrowing path. "This is it," he said, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and anticipation. Finn nodded, slipping the pass back into his bag and stepping forward. As they continued deeper into the mountain pass, the air grew colder, and the sulfurous scent in the air became heavier. Jagged cliffs rose on either side of them, and the faint glow from the jade pass seemed to guide them onward.Eventually, they reached the end of the pass and found themselves standing on the edge of a vast chasm. In the distance, they saw the massive stone bridge stretching across the valley, a breathtaking sight that seemed to span the very fabric of the world itself. The bridge was old but sturdy, with intricate carvings running along its edges. It arched gracefully over the deep ravine, leading from the desolate mountain pass to the gates of Drakthorin City, which could be seen just beyond the far end.Without a word, Finn and Enzo stepped onto the

As they moved deeper into the forest, the ground grew more difficult to navigate. The path was uneven, full of tangled roots and hidden traps. The air grew colder with each passing hour, and the weight of their mission hung heavy between them. They stopped for a brief rest and ate, but the silence between them spoke volumes. The pressure of their task was ever-present, a reminder of how much was riding on their success.By midday, they emerged from the thick forest and found themselves at the base of a steep, rocky incline. The path ahead was narrow and dangerous, twisting up the side of a mountain. The air was thinner here, and the wind had a sharp, biting chill that cut through their clothes.Enzo groaned, staring up at the steep, intimidating climb. "You've got to be kidding me. We have to go up there?"Finn smirked, though his legs were already aching just thinking about it. "Looks like it. Unless you've got a better idea."Enzo muttered something under his breath but didn’t prote

The youngest of the group, Finn, the first student, looked up with wide eyes. “The Exilium Pill? But that’s just a legend, isn’t it? We’ve heard the stories....that it was created by alchemists long ago, but no one has ever found it.”“There are whispers,” Arlen continued, his gaze hardening. “Whispers that it's real. We’ve spent months searching the records, but they’re incomplete. People who might know about it are too terrified to speak.”Chief Arlen got up, went to the shelf, took the scroll down, and laid it on the table. There was a picture of the pill, with a prophecy inscribed, although it had faded over time."In the time when all hope has bled dry, when the plague consumes the hearts of men, one shall arise from the ashes to seek salvation. The cure shall lie in a pill, forged in secrecy, guarded by the mind of its maker. The world shall search far and wide, yet none shall find the formula, for it rests only in the brain of the one who created it. To save humanity, one must