Court Mage Novels & Stories

“Don’t even start Conor; I don’t care why you killed him. He was the best henchman I ever had, and you killed him over a woman! Sickening- Pathetic even!” Zachary started walking over to me. “Presently, there is a single Mage on this planet who possesses that same secret magic.” He grabbed me by my left arm and dragged me into the center of the open space and snapped his fingers. “Only one Mage can have the Death magic at a time. I bet you’ll never guess who that is, rat.” He hauled me to my feet and held my left arm tightly. I wish it weren’t me. “I’ll make you pay for not telling me about that magic sooner.” He hissed in my ear. “If you thought I wouldn't find out about this magic, I hope

Through Nora, they had learned about the old Mage who worked for Waai, who was the lead witch of the Capricorn Coven that was once banished from witches' magical society, ages before the first war. Mage Master was the only sorcerer alive today who was present at the time of banishment, a young boy then, a formidable witch now. Once he knew what they were up against, he decided not to let Dom go in alone like on the island. Magical help was needed to fight this crazy coven of witches which had managed to survive all these centuries alone.

I ask, skirting my way around the rug until I plop down in the brown, leather recliner. “Which one?” “The one I fell through,” I answer, thinking it obvious. I hadn’t gotten a look at the other, the place he’d pulled me to. “A slip-void, they’re used for travel. They’re not meant for inexperienced wizards,” he tells me as though it’s the dullest thing in the world. It makes me feel dumb. “Why?” “It takes a high level of magic to keep the primordial darkness at bay.” “Is the darkness dangerous?” he gives me a look that says ‘stupid question’, “Why did you leave it open then? Surely you could have kept me from entering.”

The special pale blue light illuminated the living room, further illuminating the old mage's patterned face. The wooden staff in his hand was carved with the image of a wolf's head, the old magician was sitting and chopping firewood to warm himself, seeing John come in, his hand wrinkled, trembling, his voice also urgent, "What's wrong?" "Is that person dead?" Mage said. John heard the old wizard's words, his face was serious, and he shook his head.

I was certain of that. Sighing deeply, I stomped to my room, feeling slightly defeated at my own damned game. Oh, who the fuck was I kidding? Luciano Moretti was a levelheaded mafia lord. There was a reason why he had lasted in power more than all the mafia lords before him. He never acted on impulse. All his terms were carefully thought out, well laid out, and factor a series of possible things that could happen.

I turned to see them—Watchers, emerging from the shimmering surface of the wall. Their presence was commanding. They moved with precision, their black armor gleaming in the fading sunlight, weapons glowing faintly with a restrained power. The air seemed to hum around them, a tangible aura of authority. One of them stepped forward, a woman with a scar slashing diagonally across her right eye. Her cape billowed slightly as she moved, and the tattoo of an eagle’s wing marked her cheek, exactly as the stories had described. I recognized her immediately—the mage from before, the one whose magic can command thick vines from the earth. Her presence was commanding, her gaze piercing.

” The mage held the second stone in his hand apart from the other one. “Guards. Kill this traitor.” Dola ordered But the guards stood still defying their princess. “They won’t follow you anymore they have a new monarch. Me.” “Only a royal vampire can order the acolytes. Let alone hold thoses medillions.” “That or a were wolf.” Scott said buffled by the cue. “In a way your both right.” The mage pulled off his hood to reveal himself to be Sardonyx. “Don?” Scott’s eyes peeled wide open as his sister stood up, free from her chains.

For the first time in his life her was afraid, afraid of her opinion of him, afraid of if she would even like him, just afraid. Present Day. It had been two weeks since I graduated from university and moved back home with my parents and brothers. My father, Romero Ramos, is the leader of the Spanish/American Mafia until my eldest brother, Mateo Ramos, takes over next year. My mother, Maria Ramos, was born into the Mafia just like the rest of my family and lastly my second brother, Sebastian Ramos will be my Mateo's second in command for Mateo when he become leader. The there's me, Sofia, I have been involved in offical mafia business since I was sixteen years old, my job is mostly traning ne

The hide of a mountain troll was placed in the middle of the floor. A man with dark brown skin sat at the desk, wearing a black and red magic robe, the seams of the sleeves golden—the Arch-Mage. Hair white as the snow fell over his shoulders, and his long beard was braided, reaching the lower part of his stomach. His blue eyes fell on Rhobart, and he rose from his leather armchair. Milton and the others entered the study.

“What is your title, exactly, sir. If I may know?’ He looked at me like he was Barack Obama and I was a greeter at the local big box store. “I am head of the United Council of Mages, Miss Nightingale. The highest power in all of magedom.” “I see,” I said, and then turned to look at Jaye for a moment who was trying to look all innocent. I turned back to him. “So where does the Council of Mages fit into all of this?” He looked at Jaye, too. “You didn’t explain to her?”