Caitvi Arcane Novels & Stories

“We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves too much. Sneaking in at five in the morning draws attention. We also don’t want to risk detention.” Looking at the time which reads exactly 9 pm, she opens the door and leads me past the guard who is sleeping deeply. We tiptoe down the stairs and sneak past the ground-floor guard, meeting the rest outside the back door. “Took you guys long enough.” Levi finally says looking at Veronica who walked out the door first. “You don’t rush perfection.” I flip my hair back and he immediately looks away from me. What’s up with him? “Okay, I’ve called two ubers and they should be outside in ten minutes?” Caleb says.

"Wait, Luca never said—" I didn't give her the chance to finish. I closed my eyes and reached deep into the well within my chest. "What are you doing?" she shrieked, her hands flying up to grasp my wrist, but I was a statue. "Darius, stop! You will kill us both!" I began to utter the incantation I had somehow picked up, a Cerebral Siphon. It was a forbidden ritual I’d stumbled upon in the restricted archives, a technique used by the ancient witches to absorb the memories of dying enemies.

A thin swirl of violet-gold magic wound around Avi’s ankles like vines made of smoke. Cain’s heart dropped. “Avi?” She didn’t turn. The Circle turned for her. Her head tilted slightly not toward Cain, but as if listening to someone right beside her. Her breathing was shallow, eyes half unfocused. A whisper of words left her mouth, not her voice but layered, ancient, almost melodic: “The tether breaks. The Seventh rises. The Council stirs its blades.” Cain moved instinctively, but Chance shot out a hand without looking at him. “Not yet,” he warned quietly.

It is a wound. Ari took a step back. “You’re saying this is all… a scar?” A scar left open. To teach. To reflect. To birth those willing to listen to what magic tried to silence. Kaima placed her hand on the vault wall. The glyphs aligned into a spiral. She didn’t speak. But the Grayseed responded: A low hum, deep and ancient. Ari whispered: “It’s syncing.” Back in Karthir, the False Bloom Variax began to rupture.

His spoon stirred his potion in slow, deliberate circles. Clarette announced the expected names. Alpha Jaxon. Luna Selene. Political theater, nothing more. Then: "Prince Riven's black carriage was seen in the driveway. He's enrolled." Aurel's heart rate accelerated minutely. Riven Vorspina. The vampire heir's presence meant the political structure was forming as predicted. Necessary. Controllable. But Clarette had saved the best. "And — get this — the White Witch of the West, Lumira Duskbane, has returned from the grave, and is now crowned youngest High Arcanist of the Moon Seal in recorded history."

The altar split down the center, and from it, a fissure began to glow—a crack in the world itself, leaking violet fire and whispers that sounded far too human to be anything but damned. “She's opening it,” Zareth warned. “That’s not just a gate. That’s a rift—an ancient one. Sealed after the first war.” Elric grabbed his sword. “What comes through?” “No one knows,” Zareth said grimly. “Because no one who’s seen it lived long enough to write it down.” Kael was already moving. “Then we stop it now.” But Aria raised a hand—blocking him. “Don’t.” His jaw clenched. “Aria—”

And standing at the pit’s edge amidst the flickering ruin, I let my voice carry in the confined air, soft but sharp: “You had your choice,” I said. “But when you turned away… you chose war.” The witches struggled beneath binding vines, the echoes of their curses swallowed by the cavern’s collapse. Arcane vines sprung from the masonry—high-tensile spectral threads that bound, wrapped, and lifted them. Some fell into hidden pits disguised with moss and fallen leaves. Others triggered echoing halls—stairs rearranged, ceilings shifting, illusions of endless corridors. Disorientation spread like wildfire. Then came the flash glyphs—bright white powder and phosphorus fire bolted through the air. T

Suddenly, we heard a distant roar and then I saw fire emitted from amidst the whirlwind. “Don’t tell me it’s what I’m thinking.” Steve gasped. “It’s exactly what we all have in our minds – Sage’s spirit animal.” Morgana ascertained. “But Sage is dead.” I stated the obvious fact just as the so called sprit animal came into full view with the whirlwind coming to an end. “You can just leave me to assume it now possess a mind of its own.” “Which could prove to be very dangerous.” Kate sighed. “You guys should leave. I’ll handle this.” Morgan said. I shook my head negatively.