Elven Mage Names Novels & Stories

“The options are: Isariel, Sylara, Nymeris, Eryndra, and Zeryntha. These names stuck with me. So, you just have to pick one.” “Which of them do you like more?” I asked, stifling a tired yawn. “It is your duty to do that!” she said through gritted teeth. “This is your last strike… if you badmouth me, I’m going to blurt out Cupcake.” She groaned loudly before sighing in defeat. “Let’s narrow it down to my top three: Eryndra, Nymeris, and Isariel.” “Okay!” I nodded. “Very strange options, but… I guess we’d have to manage it that way. So, which of the names do you like the best?”

“Let’s get out of here then” Now, what was the spell for a portal again? Ugh, elven magic is so confusing. I visualise the elven runes for space 'ᛋᛒᛅᚴᛅ' they appear in thin air in front of me, glowing a bright green. “Huh, that was easier than I thought”. The runes separate and form a circle, slowly rotating

As the horses broke into sight, the first one was a jet black horse with blazing red eyes carrying a rider wearing a full black cloak with a silver spiked helmet, he was carrying a long red staff that was glowing slightly, behind him was a tall slender person dressed in a light green robe with shiny silver shoulder armor, he looked like a man, but his long limbs, bald head, sharp teeth, larger eyes than a human and pale skin set him apart, he seemed to be chasing the black-cloaked man and caught him on the hill, leaping from his saddle and tackling the man, rolling to a stop a few feet away from Rex, who jumped away out of surprise ‘What is going on? “I told you Zadovelis was going to die, T

“I can’t keep track of all these gawd-damned rules.” As Louis fumbled with his dice, Jon consulted his character. Crixen Runeburner, elf mage, tall and proud. He was from a noble line of adventurers and princes. Magical rings glistened on his fingers. Multi-colored robes flowed about his willowy frame. They mystically staved off attacks and turned back spells. Around his feet flowed silken boots that allowed him to run with the speed of a pony. His right hand held a mighty heft of oak, an enchanted quarterstaff of kicking-your-fucking-ass.

I picked the little elf from the box and suddenly she regained her powers and energy. “Help me, they are coming. Please let me hide. You are not a vampire, right? Please help me.” Her voice is frantic, “what is going on?” Before explaining, a mage appeared out of nowhere and was about to attack the elf when Dean mercilessly killed him. “Let us go in, you will explain inside, it seems safe that way,” Dean says. She enters holding her little box, it is almost cute watching her. “My name is Aloe, I am the princess of the elves. Please help me, my mate wants to kill me.”

I state clearly stating that his precedes here weren’t appreciated but he doesn’t seem to get the news. He remained mute leaning back, not seeming like he was about to go anytime soon. “What do you want?” I asked irritatingly. He smiles his green eyes glittering, “You’re beautiful”” he says instead cutting me off guard. “You’re Lyra Skye? The wolf he got married to” he states yet again alarmed at how much he knew. Who was this guy? “I’m Xavier Blackwood” he responds. I read through his mind but could only get the fact that he wanted to know me out from him. He seems to know how to shield his thoughts.

"Tell me human, who are you and how did you get here?" Ron, who was still pondering over the identity of this spirit Elf, gasped. He finally got it! The Royal Family!!! Zedekiel, Ludiciel, Mariel, Tariel, Sariel, Their names all sounded alike. He remembered that he had once read in a book that the Elfin Royal Family have a tradition of naming their children after dead members of the Royal Family so that they will always be remembered.

Lotanni was the first to give the full rundown on Lysar's team. Of course she was. If there was gossip, she'd find it faster than a scent-hound on heat. "Three mages, four werewolves," she muttered while checking the straps on her gear. "One of the werewolves is royalty. The prince from the Southern Fang. Has a stupidly forbidden crush on Lysar." Nyomei raised a brow. "That arrogant one who walks like his back’s too stiff for his own head?"

Rune. The Alpha who had built an empire with his strength and cunning, guarded fiercely by magic and walls so thick with enchantments that it was nearly impenetrable. But not for them. The silver-haired witch, her pale locks glistening in the moonlight, glanced sideways at her companion. Her name was Eirlys, a name that echoed through centuries of witch history, known for her wisdom and mastery over healing magic. Her skin was as pale as her hair, and her ice-blue eyes shimmered with an ancient, otherworldly knowledge.

“The mages?” “Yes,” Elara nodded. “They are known for healing that goes deeper than the flesh. My sister’s daughter is a powerful mage, a Seer. She can see the movements of the soul before the body even moves. She will be of great help in the coming war.” “We will wait for them,” Kael said. Once the business was done, Kael didn't lead me back to the castle. Instead, he took a side path that wound deeper into the ancient forest surrounding the Blackthorn fortress.