Books About Wizards Novels & Stories

— We have a division in magic manipulation. I agreed, watching her close her hand, and some of the books from the shelf came towards us, piling up on the hidden table in the darkness. It was amazing to see, and I could hardly believe my luck. Now I was there, watching books floating in front of me. It was really quite a change. — Witches, Sorceresses, Wizards, Wicca, and Archmages. — Right.

That was all, but I had been wary of the knowing smile he had given me for a split second. "Yes." I muttered, waiting for him to leave before I opened the book. "That would be all." He bowed, leaving the room. The librarian wasn't an old man with a face covered in grey hairs. He was young, older than I was, but younger than the stereotype and definitely weirder. I scanned the book and realised the order of druids contained spells translated to English. These were too useful to be locked away and forgotten inside this dark, cold room. The book listed the spells numbered in ascending order. A few of them had symbols next to them and a how-to-use description attached to it.

Since I had no clue about the wizards, I tried looking at some books in my library so I could learn about them, but it’s just all about the history of werewolves. I massaged the temple of my nose, trying to think of a better plan on how to study the history and abilities of wizards, but nothing came to my mind. What should I do? I need to widen my knowledge of this world so I can execute my plan. “Here’s your tea, Your Highness,” the Butler said.

he asked, his voice skeptical. Shirer nodded. "Yes, I've searched thousands of books, and this is the only one that mentions them. It's an old book, written by a witch who claimed to have met the warlock king's daughters." She flipped through the pages, stopping at an illustration of a castle. "This is the warlock castle. It's said to be hidden deep in the heart of the warlock kingdom." I felt a shiver run down my spine as I looked at the illustration. There was something eerie about it, something that made me feel like we were being watched.

Only a sharp need that made my fingers shake as I reached for the first book. I headed straight down to the back section, the one where the shelves were bent under the weight of thick and dusty books that most wolves avoided. The air here was heavier, and thicker, as if knowledge itself had weight. If there was any information about witches, especially dangerous ones like Zaira, it would be hidden somewhere in these forgotten books. The first book I pulled was useless. The Lineage of Crescent Moon Wolves. Good for understanding bloodlines maybe, but not what I needed.

But instead of old stories from my grandmother’s life, the pages were scrawled with strange symbols and sketches—shorthand in her handwriting explaining the purpose of different runes and sigils. Flipping through the pages, there were sketches of wolves, and the last page that she’d written in had a detailed rendition of a nightmarish wolf-beast that made my blood run cold at the sight of it, it’s eyes smudged over with charcoal in the shape of a protective rune. My heart raced when I realized what I was holding. This was no ordinary journal, it was a spell book.

“You think the world would entrust you with something truly dangerous? No, no. What you carried…” She leaned forward, lowering her voice like she was about to share the secrets of the cosmos. Against my better judgment, I leaned in too. “…was beans.” I blinked. “…Beans?” Her palm smacked the table, and she wheezed with laughter, shoulders shaking. “Magic beans! Old things got dumped into a potion that one of the young witches was making, and well, now we have magic beans! The enchantment clings, making them feel grander than they are. A bag of noisy legumes, child, and you thought it was something far grander.”

That’s when she figured that Isabella wasn’t from here. “You must be from another time period.“ “What do you mean?” “The thing you messed with wasn’t an hourglass. It was a witching glass.” “A witching what?” “The thing you called an hourglass. I read about it in my mothers’ books. It's an hourglass that’s been enchanted to control time. This item allows a person to travel between the past, the present, and the future.” “So, am I in the past?” “Yes.” “What year is it?”

Mia—quiet werewolf girl, amber eyes, book already open, notebook covered in doodles of moons and paws. She nods shy—offers half-smile, ears twitching under glamour. Class starts—Shakespeare intro. But whispers follow. “Seras’s brother.” “Fire wizard.” “Think he’s as strong as her?” “Bet he can’t even light a candle without burning his hand.” I focus on notes. Sparks dance on pen tip—controlled, tiny flame writing words in glowing script before fading. Mia glances—eyes curious. **Mia (whisper):** “Neat trick.”

Belle sat up in bed, using the buttons on the side to adjust the positioning as the nurse had shown her. The book, white with a pentacle on the cover, described the basics of witchcraft in terms even a layman could understand. Her older sister had been kind enough to drop it off, along with a change of clothing and a box of Thornton's continental—her favourite chocolates. According to this book, the spell Damien cast on her would be returned to him threefold.