Novels by tinuolajioluwatobiloba5

Scene 1 – A Rift Between Master and StudentKarmora’s night was alive with quiet sounds—the rustling of trees, the distant murmurs of late-night traders, the occasional bark of a stray hound. The sky stretched vast and dark, speckled with stars that barely outshone the flickering lanterns of the village. The streets were calm, but the air carried the weight of something unresolved.Jagaban stood at the edge of the path leading to Amara’s hut. His gaze was fixed ahead, watching as Zafar approached from the riverbank. The young warrior’s form was shrouded in exhaustion—his shoulders heavy, his sword dragging just slightly in his grip.But his eyes were sharp.He saw Jagaban. He knew he was there.And yet, he walked past without a word.Jagaban exhaled, then followed. His steps were slow, deliberate, as if giving Zafar a chance to acknowledge him. But the boy never did.Near the hut, Zafar halted. He didn’t turn around, but his hands clenched into fists.“What do you want?” His voice was

Scene 1 – Karmora Prepares for WarThe streets of Karmora carried a different kind of energy now. The usual buzz of merchants and craftsmen still filled the air, but beneath it, there was tension—an unspoken awareness that change was coming.Word had spread. Whispers in the taverns, quiet conversations in shadowed alleys—Jagaban was moving again.Inside his quarters, Jagaban sat at a wooden table, a dim lantern casting his silhouette against the walls. His hands, rough and scarred from years of war, traced an old map of Karmora and its surrounding lands. Small markings—some new, some from battles long past—covered its surface.He picked up a quill and began writing.Names. Locations. Call signs.Allies who had once stood beside him. Some had disappeared into the wind, some had sworn never to return to war. But war had returned to them.Crow entered without knocking, carrying a scroll under his arm. He tossed it onto the table. “Loans,” he muttered, as if the word alone left a bad tast

Scene 1 – The Arrival of an Old SoulThe outskirts of Karmora were quieter at dawn, the night’s cold mist still clinging to the narrow streets. Merchants stirred in their stalls, setting out fruits, spices, and silks as early buyers shuffled past, their voices hushed. Horses whinnied in the distance, and the faint clang of a blacksmith’s hammer rang out, shaping iron under the rising sun.Wrapped in a hooded cloak, Elya moved through the crowd with careful steps, her heart pounding harder than her worn boots against the cobbled ground. Delani walked beside her, scanning the area like a hawk, ensuring they weren’t being followed.“This city breathes differently,” Elya murmured, taking in the rugged stone walls, the bustling markets, the lingering scent of roasted meat and damp earth.Delani smirked. “Karmora’s built on its people. They keep it alive, for better or worse.”Scene 1 – The Arrival of an Old Soul Elya’s grip tightened around the strap of the satchel slung over her shoulder

Scene 1 – Darius Tightens His Grip (The Hunt for Amara Grows Ruthless)The great hall of Otharion was colder than usual, despite the torches burning in the sconces. The air was thick, heavy with the scent of wax and burning wood, but even that did not mask the stench of blood that had been spilled just moments before.A noble’s lifeless body lay sprawled at the foot of the throne, his throat cut cleanly—a warning.Darius sat above it all, his expression carved from stone. He did not blink. He did not waver.Shakur stood at his side, as always, his face unreadable. The court was silent, nobles and commanders alike afraid to meet the king’s gaze.Finally, Darius spoke. His voice was calm, but laced with venom. “Double the spies again.”No one moved.Shakur cleared his throat. “They are already stretched across the lands, my king. Another expansion will leave us—”Darius turned his sharp eyes to him. “Are you questioning me, Shakur?”A beat of silence. Then Shakur bowed his head slightly

Scene 1 – Unseen ShadowsThe air in Karmora was still that night, but Crow felt it—the shift, the disturbance.From his perch on the watchtower, he scanned the distant outskirts, his eyes narrowing as he caught unfamiliar movements. The figures moved carefully, avoiding torchlight, their steps calculated.They weren’t ordinary men.Mercenaries? No. Spies.And not just any spies—they moved like royal operatives, trained to observe, to blend in.Crow’s fingers tapped against the hilt of his blade.He turned sharply, descending the watchtower with swift purpose. Jagaban needed to know.Crow didn’t hesitate. He descended swiftly, weaving through the narrow pathways until he reached Jagaban’s quarters.Inside, Jagaban sat at his desk, sharpening a dagger. He didn’t look up, but he knew.“You saw something,” he muttered.Crow exhaled, folding his arms. “Not something. Someone. Multiple. Spies.”Jagaban’s hands stilled for a brief moment.“Otharion?”Crow nodded. “Most likely. They’re statio

⸻Scene 1 – Delani Returns to VhadirThe streets of Vhadir were still alive even as the sun began to set. Merchants packed up their goods, mothers called their children inside, and the distant sound of blacksmiths hammering iron filled the air. The scent of roasted meat and fresh bread lingered as people moved about, finishing their day.Through the bustling roads, Delani rode in, his horse covered in dust from the long journey back from Karmora. His face was hardened with exhaustion, but his mind was sharp. He had seen enough to be certain.He didn’t waste time. He made his way through the narrow alleys, past small homes and wooden huts, until he reached the familiar path leading to Elya’s home.Elya stood outside, her hands covered in flour from making dough. Her face, though aged, held a quiet strength. The years had worn her, but they had not broken her. Her once smooth skin now carried lines of grief, her eyes held the weight of a mother who had lost everything. She no longer bot