Novels by Leap-City

Jake’s lungs burned as he tore through the drenched swamp, branches whipping his face, rain blurring his vision.His boots splashed through mud and shallow pools, slipping dangerously with every frantic step. Behind him, “STOP THAT HEALER!”“FOREMAN, DON’T RUN!”“RASK WANTS HIM ALIVE!”Jake choked out, “Lyra, tell me we’re losing them!”Lyra sprinted beside him, barely out of breath. “We’re not.”“Awesome,” Jake wheezed. “Love that for us.”The glowing sigil on his wrist throbbed like a second heartbeat, lighting the fog around him with pulses of silver. Jake tried covering it. “Lyra, can I, can I turn this off?!”“No.”“Is there a dimming switch? A sleep mode? Anything?!”“Jake, it’s a birthright seal, not a lantern!”Jake would’ve argued, but a spear flew past his ear and embedded itself in a tree with a hard thunk. Jake yelped, “AH! They’re trying to kill me!”Lyra corrected calmly, “That soldier missed you on purpose.”Jake stared. “On purpose?!”“They want you alive.”“Since when

Cold rain pounded the earth as Jake and Lyra stepped out of the Sanctum. The horns kept sounding, three long, low blasts that vibrated through the swamp like a warning from the kingdom itself.Jake stiffened. “That’s definitely Rask.”Lyra nodded grimly. “He’s releasing the whole garrison.”Jake’s stomach knotted. “But… why send armed soldiers after me? I didn’t do anything!”Lyra gave him a pointed look. Jake sighed. “Okay, I did a little something.”“You threw a commander across a room,” she reminded.“He was going to chain me!”“And then your shadows attacked.”“Again, panic! Reflex! Magic hissy fit!”Lyra didn’t even blink. “You unleashed enough force to knock a horse down.”Jake threw up his hands. “Great. I’m terrifying and unemployed.”A second horn blasted, shorter, sharper. Lyra froze. “Jake… that signal means something else.”“What?”“They found blood.”Jake’s breath hitched. “Mine?”“No,” she said quietly. “Hunter blood.”Jake’s eyes widened. “Wait, Rask thinks I killed tha

The hunters closed in, claws scraping stone, jaws gaping wide. Their bodies twitched unnaturally, like puppets controlled by something unseen.The chamber lights flickered as their shadows stretched long and thin across the floor, reaching for Jake. Lyra stepped in front of him, blades raised. “Jake, stay behind me. You aren’t ready to fight them.”Jake shook his head slowly. “I’m done hiding.”“You don’t even know how to use your power,” she hissed.“I’ll learn fast.”“Jake”Too late. The first hunter lunged. Jake’s instincts kicked in, shadows erupting from his palms like whips. Lyra shoved him aside. “Jake, NO !”The shadows snapped across the room, slicing through the air with lethal precision. The hunter froze mid-jump as the black tendrils wrapped around its throat, its chest, its limbs.Jake gasped. “I didn’t, I didn’t mean to”Lyra’s eyes widened. “Your power… it’s reacting to fear.”“I’m terrified!” Jake cried. “What did you expect?!”The shadows tightened. The hunter let ou

Jake sprinted deeper into the Sanctum of Threads as the hunters’ screeches echoed off the stone behind him. His heart pounded violently, his breath sharp and ragged.Silver veins in the walls pulsed faster as he passed, reacting to his presence, guiding him, warning him, urging him onward.He stumbled into a circular chamber lit by a pale-blue glow leaking from cracks in the ceiling. “Please tell me there’s a door,” he gasped. There wasn’t.Instead, the circular room held a single object: A stone pedestal. On top of it, A sphere of swirling black mist. Jake backed up instantly. “Nope. No. Absolutely not. I’m not touching that.”The shadows around the sphere flickered. And answered him. “Come, Heir.”Jake’s skin crawled. “No thank you. Very much no thank you.”Behind him, Lyra shouted, “Jake! MOVE!”He turned, Lyra was fighting three hunters at once. Her blades flashed silver, slicing through the darkness like shards of moonlight.But the hunters were relentless, their bodies twisting

The marsh swallowed their footsteps as Jake followed Lyra into the blackened borderland ruins. Lightning flickered above jagged stone spires jutting from the swamp like broken teeth.The air smelled like wet ash and old sorcery. Jake’s breath came fast. “Lyra, slow down. I can’t see anything.”“You don’t need to,” she said. “Just stay close.”“That’s very comforting,” Jake muttered.A distant howl echoed across the ruins, not human, not animal. Something in between. Jake froze. “What was that?”Lyra didn’t stop walking. “The hunters released scouts.”“Scouts? As in… looking for us?”“As in tracking your shadow signature.”Jake felt the shadows curl nervously around his wrists. “Can they smell it?”“Yes.”“Oh fantastic,” Jake groaned. “So I’m basically a walking scented candle for assassins.”Lyra didn’t respond. Another howl echoed, closer. Jake swallowed hard. “Lyra, what do they want with me?”“To kill you,” she said plainly.Jake stopped dead. “You say that like it’s a normal erran

Rain hammered the marsh like it was trying to drown the entire borderland. Mud clung to Jake’s boots as he backed away from the hooded woman, breath ragged and misting in the cold night air.He lifted his hands defensively. “Stay back.”She didn’t move.Her pale eyes glowed faintly beneath her hood, reflecting every flicker of lightning. “Jake,” she said calmly, “running won’t change what you are.”“I’m not Shadowborn,” he snapped. “I’m a healer. A normal healer.”“You saw life threads,” she replied. “You touched the shadow coils. You commanded them. That is not normal.”Jake’s heart pounded painfully. “It’s a hallucination. A breakdown. Stress. Anything else.”She tilted her head. “Then why did the shadows obey you?”“I don’t know!” Jake shouted, louder than he intended. “I don’t know what’s happening to me!”The woman stepped closer. Jake stepped back. She stopped exactly where he wanted her to. “Jake… the kingdom has been hunting your bloodline for two decades. Do you truly think w

The newly restored passage stretched before them, a dim, uneven corridor of ancient stone leading deeper into the forgotten catacombs.Moisture dripped from the ceiling, echoing like distant footsteps. Lira held Ray’s arm around her shoulders, supporting most of his weight.He felt unbearably light in her grip, like a thread stretched too far. “Ray…? Ray, stay with me.”Ray’s eyes fluttered open. The faint silver glow beneath his skin dimmed, flickering like a dying candle. “I’m awake… just… tired.”“Tired?” Lira muttered. “You collapsed time and unmade twenty spells, Ray. You should be unconscious.”Ray gave a weak laugh. “Don’t… remind me.”Lira adjusted her hold. “We need to get you somewhere safe before Theron breaches the wall.”Ray closed his eyes, listening to his pulse. “He sounded angry.”“He sounded terrified,” Lira corrected. “That makes him more dangerous.”Ray leaned against her, breath shallow. “Lira… I didn’t want to fight them. I only wanted answers.”“I know.”Her voi

The echoes of Arkwright boots slammed through the catacombs, growing sharper, closer, relentless. Lira pulled Ray behind a cracked pillar. “Ray, listen to me, this isn’t like the monastery. These are elites. Inquisitors.”Ray’s gaze stayed fixed on the tunnel entrance, eyes glowing with faint silver light. “I know.”Lira grabbed his arm. “You’re still exhausted from the vision. You can’t fight them like this.”Ray turned to her, calm in a way he hadn’t been before. “I’m not fighting. I’m weaving.”Lira blinked. “Weaving, what?”Ray placed a hand over his heart, where the seal pulsed weakly under his skin. “I understand it now. How to use the part that’s already cracked… without breaking the rest.”Lira stared at him. “Why are you suddenly calm? You were shaking minutes ago.”Ray inhaled shakily. “Because I'm not blind anymore. I finally… remember enough.”Before she could press him, A blast of blue light tore down the corridor. “THERE! BY THE TOMB!”Theron Arkwright’s voice thundered

The deeper Ray and Lira moved into the catacombs, the colder the air became. Not the cold of stone or night, A deeper cold. A memory cold.Ray rubbed his arms as a shiver crawled up his spine. “This place... feels wrong.”Lira held her shattered lantern like a useless relic. “It’s not wrong,” she murmured. “Just old. Older than anything above ground.”Ray frowned. “Old doesn’t feel like this.”“Your body remembers something your mind doesn’t,” she said. “That’s why it hurts.”Ray swallowed. “Am I… getting close?”“Yes.”Lira lifted a hand toward the shadows ahead. “We’re almost there.”The corridor opened into a vast chamber carved from black stone. A circular room. Runes etched along the walls.Symbols stitched in patterns Ray vaguely recognized, like seeing fragments of dreams. At the center lay a stone sarcophagus, dust-coated but intact. Ray froze.Lira whispered, “The tomb of the First Fateweaver.”Ray stared at the sarcophagus as a strange, low hum filled the chamber. It echoed

The rumbling deep beneath the catacombs didn’t sound like shifting stone. It sounded like breathing. Ray’s entire body tensed. “Lira… what is that?”Lira tightened her grip on the lantern, knuckles white. “I don’t know. But we need to move. Now.”Ray took an unsteady step back. “Move where? Every direction is just more tunnels.”“We pick one and pray it doesn’t pick us.”“That’s not comforting.”“Nothing about this place is comforting,” she hissed.The tremor grew stronger. Dust rained down. The mural behind them cracked completely and split along the seam of Ray’s carved symbol. Ray swallowed hard. “That… that’s not normal, is it?”Lira shook her head. “No. That’s a reaction.”“To what?”“You.”Ray felt the world tilt. “Me?!”The ground shook again, this time with intent. A low, guttural moan echoed through the corridor, distant but growing closer, scraping against Ray’s senses like claws dragging over bone.Lira stepped protectively in front of him. “Stay behind me.”Ray grabbed her

The stairs descended into a cold that felt older than the kingdom itself. Ray held the wall for balance as he followed Lira down the winding stone steps.Every exhale misted in the air. Water dripped rhythmically somewhere in the dark, like the heartbeat of something sleeping beneath the earth.Ray’s voice echoed softly. “Are we… underground?”Lira nodded, lifting a lantern she’d taken from the entrance. “These catacombs were built centuries before the Arkwrights rose to power.”Ray frowned. “Then why hide them?”“Because the people who built them don’t exist anymore.”Ray’s grip tightened on the railing. “Who were they?”Lira didn’t answer immediately. “We’ll get there,” she murmured.After several minutes, the stairs finally widened into a long corridor. Arched ceilings curved over their heads, carved with symbols Ray didn’t recognize, flowing lines, spirals, and shapes that glowed faintly in the lantern’s light.Ray paused to touch one. The stone pulsed beneath his fingertips. He j

The rain fell harder as Ray and Lira stumbled through the ruined monastery’s outer wall, their breaths ragged and uneven.The distant shouts of guards echoed behind them, a constant reminder that the Arkwright hunt wouldn’t stop, not now, not after what Ray had done. Ray’s legs shook beneath him. “Lira… wait”His voice broke, and he leaned against a crumbling stone pillar. Lira immediately spun toward him. “Ray? Ray, talk to me. What’s wrong?”Ray pressed a hand to his chest, gasping. “It… it feels like something’s tearing inside, like the seal is… ripping.”Lira grabbed his wrist and lifted his hand away. A faint glow pulsed beneath Ray’s skin, like threads of light knitting and unknitting inside him.Lira swore under her breath. “Damn it… you pushed too far, too fast.”Ray slid down the pillar, sitting heavily in the mud. “I didn’t have a choice.”“I know,” she murmured, kneeling in front of him. “But awakening a Healer’s Dome at this stage? Even prodigies don’t do that.”Ray gave a

The bells of Denfar’s Lodge howled like wounded angels. Wardens rushed through the marble halls, staves glowing with defensive wards.The air thrummed with healing sigils twisting into shields, the Lodge was built for this. Ressa stood at the threshold of the infirmary, daggers drawn, shoulders squared like a wall that refused to crumble. “How long do we have?”The elder healer peered through a scrying lens, the crystal swirling with visions of armored riders tearing through the outer market. “Minutes,” he said grimly. “Perhaps less.”The girl clutched Erynd’s arm as the fractures beneath her skin flickered brighter. “They will cut your thread, and in the severing… I cease.”Erynd tightened his grip on her hand. “I won’t let that happen.”Ressa’s head snapped toward him. “And what’s your plan, exactly? Turn into a star again and blind the city?”“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just know I won’t run.”The elder healer stepped between them, hands lifted in truce. “We will aid you, Silen

Dawn crept across the sky like a reluctant truth. The caravan creaked over the final hill, and the city of Denfar Crossing rose from the valley, sprawling wood-and-stone walls, smoke curling from chimneys, its banners stitched with a silver serpent twined around a staff.A healer’s symbol. But not theirs. Ressa’s shoulders eased slightly. “We’re here.”Erynd clutched the wagon seat, the girl’s frail weight leaning against him. “Will they help us?”“They might,” Ressa said. “Or they’ll pretend to.”Which, in this world, was apparently the better outcome. As they descended, Erynd spotted armed wardens patrolling the roads, not soldiers, but healers carrying iron staves etched with runes.Guarding, Watching. The healer’s guild here wasn’t just a place of healing. It was a fortress.A warden halted the caravan with two fingers raised, a gesture that spoke of absolute authority. His face was hidden behind a half-mask shaped like an open eye. “State your passage,” he commanded.Ressa replie

By the time the first stars pierced the cloudbank, the northern wind had sharpened into knives. The road dipped down toward a ravine flanked by jagged rock pillars, their shadows leaning across the dirt like claws.Erynd kept looking over his shoulder. The night behind them felt heavier with each mile. Ressa nudged her horse closer. “You sense them too?”Erynd nodded. “Not just them. The threads around us are… tightening.”Ressa grunted. “Then stay sharp. Hunters from the Grand Hall won’t stop to ask questions.”He swallowed. Hunters. His former brothers. His former home. Now they came to capture him… or worse.The little girl lay bundled in the wagon, still unconscious, though the golden fissures beneath her skin occasionally throbbed with faint light. Each pulse seemed weaker.Erynd climbed aboard and checked her pulse, whispering reassurance she couldn’t hear. The seal on his palm warmed, responding to her condition… or warning him of it.“She needs sanctuary,” he murmured. “Somewh

Erynd had seen a soul break. He had seen one heal. But he had never seen a child glow with starlit veins.The girl stood in the settling dust of the battlefield, wisps of golden motes drifting from her like fireflies. Her small face was solemn, too wise, too knowing.Ressa’s hand hovered an inch above her dagger. “Step back, Erynd.”But he didn’t. He couldn’t. “Who are you?” he asked quietly.The girl blinked once, slow, like she was sorting through lifetimes. “I was given many names,” she murmured. “Some called me Starborn. Some called me Threadseer. But you…”She pointed at Erynd, her eyes reflecting the divine seal burning through his skin. “You once called me your sister.”The world slowed. Sound thinned. Erynd’s pulse crashed in his ears. “No…” he whispered. “That’s impossible.”The girl tilted her head. “Everything about you is impossible.”Ressa exhaled sharply, stepping between them. “Enough riddles. Who sent you?”The girl’s gaze flickered toward the distant Grand Hall, thoug

The first wraith glided from the mist like a tear in the world. Silent. Starving. More followed, dozens, shapes twisted beyond human memory, skins stretched over sorrow and hunger.Their mouths were open in voiceless screams, their fingers long as bones taken from forgotten graves. Ressa drew her blades. “Get behind me.”But Erynd stepped forward instead. His heart thundering. His breath sugar-sharp with fear. The divine seal on his palm glowed like a brand fresh from the forge. “I see you,” he whispered.Threads lit his vision, the wraiths were shredded souls, clinging to existence by strands of grief and curses. They were broken… and desperate.A wraith lunged, jaw unhinging, its hunger reaching to devour his mind. Light erupted from Erynd’s hand. The creature screamed, soundless, yet shaking the forest. Its form burst into motes of dark ash.The others recoiled… then surged as one, sensing power. Sensing prey. “Erynd!” Ressa yelled. “There are too many!”He knew. But something deep

The Mirewood thinned as the caravan pressed north, trees shrinking into scraggly brush as if afraid to follow. But Erynd couldn’t shake the feeling that the forest wasn’t retreating it was watching.Every breath of wind felt like a whisper at his back. Every shadow felt one second behind him. Ressa kept him at her side, one hand always resting on the hilt of her curved dagger.She was alert. Too alert. Like she expected the road itself to rise up and attack. “How much farther?” Erynd asked, desperate to fill the silence.“Half a day to Denfar crossing. A healer’s guild there might take you in.”Erynd doubted that deeply. “And after Denfar?”Ressa shrugged. “Depends if you want to keep running.”Erynd didn’t answer. Because he didn’t know. As they crested a rocky rise, a scream tore through the air.A guard slumped against a wagon wheel, clutching his skull. Blood streamed from his nose, and threads, faint and bright, flickered at his temples.Erynd’s vision sharpened before he could r