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Chapters

1. 1Chapter 1Arabella Hayes arrives at Ashford Estate after her grandmother's death, meets the cold and arrogant Alexander Blackwood, and discovers a mysterious message from Eleanor that hints at hidden secrets.
2. 2Chapter 2Arabella explores the west wing the next morning, finding a locked room and a hidden letter from her grandmother that hints at a betrayal involving the Blackwood family.
3. 3Chapter 3
4. 4Chapter 4
5. 5Chapter 5
6. 6Chapter 6
7. 7Chapter 7
8. 8Chapter 8
9. 9Chapter 9

• Blood & Fur: An Ancient Reckoning

  Ancient battles between vampires and werewolves only gets deeper now in a new age the call of the old ancestors is needed Magic transformation, bloodshed will it ever be over

• Wish Upon a Bump

  An older brother envies his pregnant little sister, he makes a tired wish he could experience it. Oh he does all of it, morning sickness, dizziness, cravings, swollen ankles, tired, belly growth, mood swings, weird dreams, child birth. All of it

• The Whispering Twins of Eldoria

  Twin foals were born into Eldoria, a beautiful land full of horses unicorns, Pegasus and Alicorns all with powers the twins were born with the 2 strongest powers the colt with spirit energy and the filly with Galaxion the strongest the filly is named Soul and the colt Spring

• University of Elements

  International University of Elements was attended mostly by Koreans, Full of prestige. Every student controlled one of four main elements: fire, water, air, earth. Then one day a Polish foreigner passed a entry exam, a water user. She caught attention of second year fire user, seniority and honorofics were really important at this school but she didn't know about it. They saying that a darkness user who is prince of fallen empire would show himself. Royals exist, same as nobility

• Vasusena :the beginning

  Tabstory Visual Style & Cinematic Direction (Global Prompts) Art Style: Hyper-realistic, modern cyber-mythology dark fantasy. High-contrast cinematic lighting with a gritty, film-grain texture. Color Palette: Hastinapur Slums: Dominated by industrial greys, grease-blacks, electric blues, and neon violets. Ayodhya Kingdom: Gleaming solar-gold, pristine marble white, and lush emerald green. Pandava Empire: Advanced silver chrome, crisp holographic blue, and stark white light. The Divinity Effect: Whenever Vasusena's armor or bows activate, they explode into a brilliant, blinding solar gold that overrides all surrounding ambient neon lights. Weapons: Traditional, physical ancient materials (glowing wooden/celestial bows, solid iron-tipped arrows, heavy metal maces) colliding with a backdrop of modern 2026 infrastructure (tanks, skyscrapers, drones). 👤 Character Profile Prompt Grid Full Name Nickname / Title Visual Prompt Description for Tabstory AI Vasusena Vasu / Angaraja A towering, muscular 25-year-old Indian warrior-mechanic. Sharp jawline, short dark hair, grease-stained grey tank top, and rugged black cargo pants. Beneath his torn clothes, an intricate, sub-dermal geometric golden grid pattern embeds into his skin, glowing like molten solar circuitry. Krishna Krish A lean, athletic young man with an impossibly calm, knowing smile and dark, expressive eyes. Wears a sleek black modern tech-jacket, dark jeans, and casual sneakers. Radiates a subtle, invisible aura of absolute cosmic awareness. Rama Ram A tall, broadly-built, deeply authoritative figure with perfect military posture. Clean-shaven with a serene but piercing gaze. Wears a minimalist dark charcoal tactical coat over high-end stealth gear. Carries a heavy black leather sports bag over his shoulder. Kalki Kal A fierce, hot-tempered teenager with intense, sharp, unblinking eyes. Wears a distressed black leather motorcycle jacket, combat boots, and dark jeans. Constantly cracks his knuckles, radiating a raw, unhinged kinetic energy. Duryodhana Dury A wealthy, arrogant, imposing corporate tycoon in his late 20s. Wears an expensive, immaculately tailored dark slate-grey suit. Shaved sides with slicked-back hair and a cold, dominant, predatory stare. Shakuni Shak A lean, older, sinister mastermind with a subtle limp and sharp, calculating eyes. Wears an off-white luxury asymmetric designer robe over black modern clothing. Constantly rotates a pair of ancient, jagged bone dice between his fingers. 📖 Book 1 Full Novel Content & Script Prompts (Chapters 1–4) Chapter 1: Vasusena – The Born with Wealth Visual Prompt for Tabstory: Interior of a dark, high-contrast, grit-stained automotive repair garage in a rain-slicked modern slum. Neon signs flicker outside in deep violet. Rusted public transit buses tower over mechanic tool racks. A young Indian man in his early 20s with grease on his face easily lifts a massive, heavy metal bus transmission with one bare hand. The rain drumming against the corrugated iron roof of the Hastinapur transit garage was deafening. Adhiratha wiped black engine oil from his forehead, his breath rattling in his chest as he strained against a 300-pound solid steel transmission block. His heavy work boots slipped in a puddle of black grease. "Vasu! Get out from under that rig before my spine cracks in half!" Adhiratha barked. From beneath a gutted bus chassis, Vasusena slid out smoothly on a wooden mechanic's creeper. He wore a faded, oil-stained tank top. As he stepped into the harsh glare of a flickering halogen bulb, a faint, geometric golden shimmer pulsed right beneath his skin along his collarbone, fading instantly. "Pop, I told you to wait for the hydraulic lift," Vasu said with a grin. "Your structural warranty expired twenty years ago." Without even dropping into a heavy stance, Vasu casually reached down with his bare left hand. His fingers gripped the jagged iron frame of the transmission. With an effortless lift that defied every law of modern physics, he hoisted the massive block and set it gently onto the steel workbench. Adhiratha shook his head, cleaning his wrench. "Your mother named you Vasusena hoping you'd bring actual wealth into this house. Instead, you just save me money on heavy machinery. Go wash up. Radha is making flatbread." Visual Prompt for Tabstory: A narrow, dark brick alleyway at night in a modern cyberpunk city. Rainwater creates puddles reflecting red and violet neon streetlights. Three aggressive gang members in leather jackets corner Vasu. One thug swings a solid iron pipe with massive force against Vasu's ribs, but the pipe bends completely into a U-shape upon impact. Cutting through the narrow brick alley on his way home, Vasu’s cracked digital sports watch—held together by black electrical tape—ticked quietly against his wrist. Suddenly, three shadows detached themselves from a defunct warehouse wall. The leader, wearing a slick leather jacket, snapped open a folding knife. "Vasu. The bus driver's boy," the thug sneered. "Your old man skipped his protection tax to the district office this month. Hand over the wallet, the phone, and that watch." Vasu stopped, looking deadpan. "Look, man. I’ve got exactly three dollars, a half-eaten protein bar, and this watch loses four minutes every hour. You really want to do this?" "Crack his ribs," the leader ordered. A massive thug lunged forward, swinging a solid iron plumbing pipe with full, two-handed baseball velocity straight into Vasu’s side. CLANG! The sound was a blinding metallic shockwave, echoing through the brick walls like an artillery shell striking a solid steel vault door. The iron pipe violently bent into a perfect crescent shape around Vasu's torso. Vasu didn't even shift his weight. The impact tore his tank top completely down the seam, revealing a blinding, temporary flash of deep, indestructible golden celestial armor—the Kavach—fused directly into his skin like molten solar circuitry. The thug dropped the useless, bent iron, his arms vibrating wildly from the kinetic feedback. "What the hell are you made of?!" Vasu looked down at his torn shirt and sighed. "Do you know how hard it is to find clothes that fit my shoulders? My mom bought me this." In a blur of motion faster than an arrow leaving a bowstring, Vasu delivered a single open-palm strike to the leader’s chest, launching him ten feet backward into a pile of plastic crates. He grabbed the remaining two by their collars and hurled them into the main street drainage ditch like trash. Vasu looked down at his chest as the last golden light of the Kavach faded back under his skin. "Vasusena... 'Born with Wealth.' Right. I'm broke and my shirt is ruined." Chapter 2: Vasusena – The Son of the Streets Visual Prompt for Tabstory: An ultra-modern, luxury minimalist glass penthouse high above the clouds. Floating holographic computer screens float in mid-air. An older, sinister Indian mastermind with sharp eyes sits in a leather chair, spinning ancient bone dice. A younger, wealthy corporate tycoon in a tailored suit looks at a digital screen. High above the heavy smog of the fractured nations, the satellite feed played in high-definition thermal color inside a floating glass palace. Shakuni sat in his custom leather chair, rotating a pair of jagged, ancient bone dice between his fingers. His eyes focused intently on the automated drone playback screen showing Vasu’s alleyway fight. The security system repeatedly flagged the golden flash on the mechanic's chest as an UNKNOWN ANCIENT CLASS ELEMENT. Duryodhana stood behind him, swirling ice in a crystal glass. "Another street thug with a high kinetic threshold. Why are we wasting deployment resources on a slum mechanic? Jarasandha’s corporate block is pressing our shipping lines." Shakuni let the bone dice click against each other in his palm, a dark smile spreading across his face. "Look closer, my dear Dury. Look at the wavelength of that golden skin flash. That is no modern genetic mod. That is the light of a thousand suns locked in a human cage. This boy is the missing Prince of Ayodhya—the child I personally snatched from King Ram and Queen Sita's palace nurseries decades ago to prevent an alliance with the Pandavas." Duryodhana squinted at the monitor, his posture straightening. "The stolen child of Ayodhya? He's been fixing city buses in our slums this whole time?" "Exactly," Shakuni whispered, rolling the dice across the glass table. "And if he remembers his past, he connects the Pandava Empire’s bloodline to Ayodhya's sovereign throne. We must buy him before he wakes up. Offer him what the gutters denied him. A name. A throne. Let's see how loyal a slum kid stays when you hand him an empire." Visual Prompt for Tabstory: A dirty, industrial slum market square filled with scrap metal and shipping containers. Three black armored luxury SUVs kick up dust. A wealthy corporate tycoon in a dark slate-grey suit stands on the hood of an SUV, presenting a solid gold security plaque to a stunned Vasu. The next day, a dirty market square filled with rusted shipping containers was suddenly disrupted as three black armored luxury SUVs tore into the dirt, kicking up massive clouds of dust. Heavily armed corporate private security guards stepped out, drawing weapons to form a protective corridor. Out stepped Duryodhana, flanked by Shakuni. The surrounding slum dwellers scattered in terror. Vasu stood his ground by an outdoor generator box, holding a heavy iron wrench. Duryodhana looked down at him from the hood of the lead vehicle. "Vasusena. Son of Adhiratha. The bus driver's boy." Vasu adjusted his grip on the wrench. "You're blocking the light. What do you want?" "I’m buying out this entire sector," Duryodhana announced, his voice echoing across the slums over loudspeakers. "The garage, the streets, the blocks. From today, you don't work for pennies under a chassis. By the joint decree of the Hastinapur Hegemony, I am restoring your citizenship and appointing you the absolute Governor and Angaraja of the strategic Anga District. You get the crown, the military command, and the status." Vasu stared at the billionaire, utterly bewildered. "Why would a high-born executive hand a slum mechanic a kingdom?" Shakuni stepped forward, his bone dice clicking softly. "Because we recognize value when the rest of the world throws it away. The Pandava kings look at you and see a nobody. We look at you and see a sovereign. What do you say, Angaraja?" Vasu looked back into the crowd. He saw his aging father and the terrified families of his neighborhood. He turned back to Duryodhana. "Keep the slums free of your protection taxes, and I’ll run your border guard. But I don't wear your suits." Duryodhana laughed loudly, throwing a solid gold security badge onto the rusty generator frame. "Deal. Welcome to the elite, Vasu." Chapter 3: Vasusena – The Outsider’s Crown Visual Prompt for Tabstory: Vasu standing on a concrete cliff edge at dusk, holding a shining gold badge. Beside him stand three distinct figures: a young man with a knowing smile in a dark jacket, a tall warrior with a sleek tactical coat, and a fierce teenager cracking his knuckles. The skyline behind them splits between pure white towers and dark corporate skyscrapers. Duryodhana and Shakuni’s convoy roared away into the neon cityscape, leaving Vasu standing in the mud with a golden title he didn't want. As the dust settled, three figures stepped out from the shadows of the scrap heaps. Krish walked up casually, tossing an apple into the air with a knowing smile. Beside him stood Ram, tall, broadly built, carrying a heavy black leather sports bag with absolute dignity. Trailing behind was the intense teenager, Kal, his combat boots crunching on the gravel. The moment Ram’s eyes locked onto Vasu, a profound, unexplainable spiritual shockwave rippled through the air. The rain itself seemed to hesitate. Ram stopped dead in his tracks, his hands tightening. He recognized the unmistakable solar warmth radiating from the mechanic—the exact same energy signature of the infant prince stolen from the Ayodhya royal nurseries twenty-five years ago. "Vasu," Krish said quietly, his voice carrying a heavy, ancient resonance that cut through the noise of the city. "You think you just won a corporate contract today. But Dury and Shak are playing a desperate game because they know who you truly are." Vasu wiped a streak of grease from his jaw. "I'm a bus driver's son who just saved his neighborhood from a tax levy. Who are you guys?" Ram stepped forward, his voice deep, grounding, and trembling with a father's suppressed emotion. "You are no bus driver's son, Vasusena. Twenty-five years ago, you were born as the eldest prince of the Pandava Empire to Queen Kunti. When a court conspiracy threatened your life, you were smuggled across the border and adopted directly into my palace in the Ayodhya Kingdom. Sita and I raised you until Shakuni's black-ops forces tore you from our arms and dumped you in these gutters." Vasu stagerred back, his mind spinning. "Prince of the Pandavas? Adopted son of Ayodhya? This is crazy. I grew up in the grease. My name is Radheya!" Visual Prompt for Tabstory: Red emergency warning lights flash across a dark concrete border wall. In the sky above the slums, hundreds of high-tech corporate surveillance drones with crimson sensor beams swarm through the heavy rain clouds, casting red tracking lasers over a panicked population. Before Vasu could drop his wrench, a loud siren wailed across the sector. The sky turned a sickening shade of crimson as red emergency warning lights flashed along the dark concrete border wall. "Shakuni doesn't waste time," Kal growled, cracking his knuckles as a dark, volatile energy began to hum around his hands. "Look up." Hundreds of high-tech Hastinapur military drones blacked out the sky above the slums, their red sensor beams cutting through the heavy rain. Down the main transit highway, the heavy treads of automated armored vehicles rumbled forward. Duryodhana's advanced military vanguard, commanded by the grand preceptor Dronacharya, was launching a sudden tactical lockdown to forcefully fortify the sector and evict the commoners. Ram unzipped his heavy leather bag, his face turning entirely stern. "They are testing your loyalty, Vasu. They want to see if their new Angaraja will bow to their iron, or stand for his people." Chapter 4: Vasusena – The Stubborn King Visual Prompt for Tabstory: Vasu standing completely unarmed in his torn clothes in the middle of a multi-lane modern concrete highway, facing a column of approaching corporate tanks. He extends his left hand into the air, and a massive bolt of blinding golden lightning transforms into a magnificent, traditional longbow of pure celestial gold. Vasu looked back at the apartment blocks where his mother Radha was hiding, and then looked at the approaching line of corporate armor. The street-kid confusion in his chest burned away, replaced by an ancient, royal fury that belonged to the palaces of Ayodhya and the bloodline of the Pandavas. "They think because they handed me a gold badge, they own my soul," Vasu whispered. He walked out into the center of the multi-lane modern highway, standing completely alone against the rumbling tanks and swarming drones. Dronacharya watched from a command vehicle, his eyes narrowing through the rain. Vasu raised his left hand into the open sky. "I am the son of Adhiratha and Radha! I am the prince raised by Ram and Sita! And nobody touches my streets!" A massive, blinding bolt of golden solar lightning struck the earth directly into Vasu's open palm. The shockwave shattered the glass of the surrounding abandoned warehouses. When the blinding light cleared, Vasu was no longer just holding a wrench—his fingers clutched the legendary VIJAYA BOW, a massive, radiant traditional longbow of pure celestial gold that pulsed with atmospheric lightning. Visual Prompt for Tabstory: A spectacular wide-angle cinematic shot of a million glowing golden arrows raining down from the stratosphere with mathematical precision. The arrows slam into corporate drones and tanks, exploding them instantly while leaving the surrounding concrete buildings completely untouched. Dronacharya gasped inside his command rig, recognizing the weapon instantly. "The Vijaya Dhanush... Parashurama's weapon! Hold the advance! Hold!" But the automated drones opened fire, launching a volley of modern supersonic missiles straight at Vasu. Vasu reached back. A physical, glowing golden arrow manifested in his fingertips. He notched it onto the celestial string, pulling it back effortlessly with his thumb right to his ear. The rainwater hitting the bow instantly vaporized into clean white steam. He chanted the original Sanskrit mantra aloud, his voice echoing like thunder across the megacity: "OM NAMO BHARGAVAYA!" He looses the string. The single arrow shot skyward like a rocket, piercing the storm clouds before exploding into a beautiful, terrifying dome of a million golden projectiles. The arrows rained down from the stratosphere with absolute mathematical perfection. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Every single corporate drone was vaporized mid-air. The kinetic darts struck the treads and weapon turrets of the armored vehicles, disabling them instantly without scratching a single civilian concrete home or spilling a drop of innocent blood. The sky cleared, illuminated by a warm, golden solar light. Vasu lowered the Vijaya bow, his golden Kavach burning brightly beneath his torn shirt. Dronacharya stepped out of his disabled vehicle, lowering his head in absolute reverence before the warrior. Standing on the ridge behind him, Krish smiled, popping a sweet into his mouth. "I told you, Vasu. The sun is rising early this year. Wenlcome to your awakening." [BOOK 1 END] -- Secured with Tuta Mail: https://tuta.com/free-email

• The Dragon's Whisper and the Girl Who Listened

  Growing up always competing with her sister as she gets older it was time for her to get her to leave the castle and find her dragon only then will she be the head princess of war