Arcane Ages Novels & Stories

He smiled and said “Forty-three. I was turned while in Africa, remember?” Megan scowled. “Okay, bad example. What about Angela or Evan? How old are they?” Peter thought for a moment. “I believe Angela is seventy-five and Evan is at least one-hundred years old.” “There you go,” Megan said with a grin. “I’m older than any of them and I’m not a vampire. I did it through magic.” She turned to me and looked into my eyes. “You have choices. Being a vampire has some

He explains. “Wow. Just. Wow. SO...With this complete of a set of historical records, I BET ANYTHING we can find a hint of some kind as to where Draco is. How old is this guy Ares?” “No one really knows...he’s old though...he ages much MUCH slower than even us.” “That’s a great idea Ani! Do you want to help me since you obviously know what to do in here you big history nerd?” “DO I? PHHHH! OF COURSE I DO!” She shouted enthusiastically.

I reply. “So you’re 19,” she says, her tone almost condescending. I raise an eyebrow. “That’s how age works, yes.” The tension thickens instantly. Arabella presses on, undeterred. “Jace is 28.” Is she trying to make a point? “Right,” I say dryly. “So, do you want to know how old he was last year, or have you figured out the concept of time?” Jace snorts and looks down, amused. A random shopper walks between us, completely oblivious to the charged atmosphere, whistling as he splits our tense group.

"Already thinking it." I write back to Vera. Send me their files. The files arrive within hours. Elder Thorne is one hundred and eighty years old with documented dark magic use going back decades. Beta Marcus is forty-five, Thorne's second for twelve years, described as capable and loyal in the way that means dangerous on both counts. Alpha Klein is sixty, his pack of moderate size, his territory sharing forty miles of border with Moonshadow land. --- Sage starts Haven and Oliver's training sessions that same week. Both children in the clearing behind the pack house, morning light, Sage patient and specific with each one.

Within twenty minutes, a notification buzzed on my phone, and I felt a surge of satisfaction pulse through me. Opening the message, I scanned the contents eagerly, ready to learn everything there was to know about my new adversary. ‘Arianna Draco, 22 years old… a human orphan?!’ “Just classic,” my wolf, Teri, mused. “We’ve been upstaged by a nobody.”

Maybe some of you are confused by Freya's sentence, which is getting old. But that's a fact, even if there is green *Amber, its use is limited. When 30 years is reached, there must be some time lag before they eat the next one. There should be a gap of at least two years or three years. That's why Mischa, Lev, Tocho, Aaric, and Bardolf look like they're in their mid-30-40s. Because of the gap in use, their physical age will still increase.

If it is the past, how the hell is Arkan connected to it all? The lycan purge happened almost a millennium ago. I know lycans live long but surely, Arkan can't be that old… right? I mean, it's just a crazy dream. A really crazy dream. I look at the pie I was eating. It’s good, apples and blueberries, but my appetite seem to desert me. I drop my fork with a sigh, starting to get irritated. Scents becoming too overpowering, voices becoming too loud for me sensitive ears. The sound of Astria’s laughter, bouncing round my head.

She swatted them away with a mock glare, and her purple-haired friend laughed, floating over to where she was. Turning serious for a second, the wizard asked the hard question. "So who's the traitor? Santos Romano or his wife Maria?" Earning a frustrated shrug from his pretty little wolf. She had no idea that Valenar was her fated mate. In reality, he was over a thousand years old, which was really young for a wizard, but somehow he didn't think Raeann would see it like that. His appearance was more in line with a seventeen-year-old of her species, being that wizards aged at a hundredth of the speed of other supernatural creatures.

“So you don't get to see the rain and snow quite often?” I nodded. “So don't you guys like age?” “Depends on how long you lived and your ancestor's genes. For example, if you've lived a hundred thousand years and your ancestors had wrinkly faces you might start aging but that is extremely rare as there are a lot of potions that can make a witch look fresh again.” Kelly sighed, “So you guys don't age?” “We do age on special circumstances-” “-How old are you?” “Ten thousand and one years old.”

It seemed like I was the former in this story. But no. Such things wouldn’t put me down. Glowering, I turned round to Reive and exclaimed, “What about you? How old are you? Thirty? Oh, you’ve come a long way!” The necromancer raised his brow and chuckled, “Actually, I’m seven hundred years old, little one.” “But how old were you at the moment of your death?” I snorted. Reive twisted his lips, “Thirty-five.” “There!” I exclaimed. “Not seven hundred. And it seems like you, with your self-confidence, are only sixteen. Or fifteen?”