Descendants Wand Novels & Stories

He rolls his eyes. -"It doesn't matter who has the book because not any witch can cast the spells. They would need a descendent from the Hybrid Queen Luna—Narcissa Wilkes— to do it. Rumor has it she gave birth to a child before the current Alpha King lineage overthrew her. Many searched but never found evidence of this supposed child. So finding this descendent would be the same as finding a needle in a haystack." -"We better start praying for them not to have a metal detector then!" Maximus sarcastically mumbles.

He didn’t blink. “There’s something buried beneath our bloodline. Something they once called a gift. But it’s not. It’s a curse. We see too much. Feel too deep. Remember too long. And the Descendants — they use that. They take children like you. Like Tristan. They dig their claws into your memory and twist it until you forget who you are. That’s what they want for Cara.” The voice crackled.

"Yes and no. Darius now shares your blood, making him royal. You are royal because you are the direct descendent of not just one but two powerful rulers. Not only that, but you actually share blood from the third ruler. Your mother was a hybrid. Born of both vampiric and werewolf parents. Making you a tribred. Not only that but you are also the original descendent of the wizarding community. This is why the council fears you. As you're singlehandedly more powerful than all three of them combined. The council has always had one problem. They don't like taking orders from others. So with you alive, you pose a risk to their fate. If others learn of your existence, they will no longer hold the p

It was a secret she had concealed, for she didn't want the witches to know about her werewolf offspring. Ever since, every descendant, whether male or female, has possessed the haunting mark of lavender eyes, reminiscent of the enchantress Morgana herself. The power of her legacy lay dormant in female offspring, hidden from the watchful eyes of the world. And now, she stands as the first known girl descendant with this power.

A tiny sigh escaped his lips as he rolled up the paper and put it back in the box, his heart was racing wild, pearls of sweat popped up on his forehead and sluiced all the way down to his chin and dripped down on his flooded thighs. He was nervous and scared and excited about this at the same time. He took a deep breath and inhaled all the air of the room in his lungs, and hold it in there for some time, as he exhaled it out, he let out all his nervousness with it, and with a relaxed and calm mind, he stretched his hand towards the box once again. It was their ancestral wand that had been used by his grandfathers only when they need to put back the soul of their enemies to figure out their p

Light and shadow twisted together as Mukura began the final incantation, sanctifying the body Gwanhoya had possessed. The ancient witch screamed—not in pain, but in loss. Her spirit tore free, dissolving into the air like ash in the wind. Silence followed. Mukura collapsed beside her sister, holding her close. Gurudza fell to one knee, exhausted but alive. From afar, Wezhira watched, pride softening his gaze. The age of darkness had passed. And the descendants still stood.

"I am the protector of the sacred treasures and I have already told you everything. You are late and the sacred treasure of the gods has belonged to a young man of pure blood." "Tell me! who is he? What kind of person is he? Tell me quickly!" shouted Aiden. He couldn't wait to find that person and snatch the sacred treasure from him. "He is a descendant of the Great God, a brown-haired youth with beautiful sapphire blue eyes. The sacred treasure is in his hands, it is impossible for you to obtain it! So, forget it!" "God's descendant? dammit! Did he find this place before me? I must snatch the sacred treasure from his hands before he gets his wish!" he thought. Aiden immediately walked away

he said and recited a ritual afterward. As Hunter was saying all those things, my mind was busy inspecting the woman's figure. I think I know her. She looks familiar to me. Soon, the woman moved. "She's moving," Conrad declared. "Thanks to uncle," Greg said proudly. "It's the wand that healed her," Hunter reckoned. "But it won't heal if you are not the one who uses it, right?" Greg insisted. "Wands can't just be used by anyone," Hunter spoke. "They only follow their master's command. So, yes, I cured her." Hunter surrendered. His nephew won't stop so he just agreed.

This was the symbol of the Hallow clan's magical power. "Hold and use this wisely, Gid. From now on, I'm passing the leadership of the Hallow clan to you. When the time comes, you must train Cla and pass this wand on to her." Gideon nodded and took the wand, feeling the weight of the moment. This was no ordinary wand; it was the symbol of the Hallow witches' leadership. Vesvera looked at her daughter again. "I'm feeling better now. I'll start weaving the seal on Cla's body."

It fit snugly in her palm and she smiled at the warmth. “It’s made from the branch of a four-hundred-year-old white oak, soaked in holy water, until the color was bleached out of it. The end, past those markings, is carved from the scapula bone of an angel.” Serenity’s gaze snapped to the end of the wand, as her hand flew open. She turned it, noticing for the first time, the small holes in the end, the webbing of bone. She stared at it, wondering if she should put it back. She didn’t want anything to do with angels… But the more she held it, the more she was convinced, it was hers and hers alone.