Enchanting Witch Novels & Stories

My witch. The word punched through my skull for the hundredth time in the last ten minutes. My witch. I’d always known she carried it—something old, something rare, something the rest of the world would destroy or exploit if they ever sensed it. I thought I had more tune before it awakened, I’d prepared for slow shifts, small bursts, subtle flares. Not this. Not the ground cracking open beneath her feet, not the purple blaze swallowing rogues whole, not the wind she summoned with a flick of her fingers that sent warriors—full-grown wolves—sliding backward across stone like feathers.

A round table sat at the center, cluttered with cards and strange artifacts. Two chairs faced each other, giving the room an air of ritual or prophecy. The atmosphere was intriguing and unsettling—a world between reality and the unknown. Mom sat in the chair on the left. “As most witches do,” she began, “I was gifted with the ability to communicate with the paranormal... and with the multiverse.” I looked at her, confused. She saw the look and smiled gently. “To make it easier to understand—I can teleport my ancestral body into another realm without moving my physical one. In that state, I can influence events happening in both spiritual and physical dimensions. That’s what makes me a Sesame

I can’t help admiring how beautiful and powerful she looks as the forest reacts to her. My dick twitches as she opens her eyes and the glow a bright blue and small green vein like runes climb up her neck, she is an elemental witch like Bellatrix. These are the purest of casters, they truly believe that nature is the key to magic. I feel my magic calling to her wanting to mix with hers.

"Agatha, what are you doing here?" He repeated the question of the girl. " Nothing, I got lost". I said the first thing that came to my head. "Really? What did you see?". Before Jackson questioned me, Melvin stepped forward and grabbed my hand, and at that moment, I felt a trigger in my other hand. I may not know anything about Witches, but my dad always tells me that to identify a witch, one of the ways happens to be the spark. "Hey ! You're a wizard, aren't you?".

"Okay get a room already you two Brad said as the rest of them laugh. The rest of our days went with such happiness that I never wanted to let go. My story ended here. I have found my love. I have found peace and power. I am Parshawna Macduff, The queen of Trinity land and the only heir to the golden wand. I am the greatest witch of the decade.

On the far end of the page, a bird soared high with a ring of fire placed around one of it's legs. There weren't any spell written on this one, and that intrigued me even more. There wasn't any words on this particular artist's impression, and that clear meant something. Channelling spells weren't easy to come by, in fact my mother used to tell me that no living witch in other parts of the world could perform that.

And as for Serina, she was only introduced into four of them — including her late master. Euphemia, the Witch of Vanity. She rose from the land of the Soil governed by the God of Humility. Helga, hailed as the Witch of Treachery was a native of the land of Thunder, dominated by the God of Pledge. Prima, who originated from the land of Nature, was later dubbed as the Witch of Greed — in contrast to their God's principle: Charity.

I'd done the very same thing many times on the street, but he seemed to master it. "It's a witches' bottle. Goat's blood. It's used by the whole coven from which it derives its powers. That's how they cursed your wife... You heard the spell yourself, didn't you?" "Yes," I conceded. I felt reprimanded, the mention of my wife sobering me. "It sounded... Semitic? I'm not even sure if that's the word, but that's what came to me," I said.

She made Richard put them all inside a burlap potato sack she found, along with the crumbling Bible, which she refrained from touching. When she noticed his raised eyebrows, she told him firmly, “These enchantments are as old as your Bible itself, Ricard Franklin, when the Witch of Endor used them to summon up a dead prophet from the conjuring pits—Old Testament again, eh? Older, even, before Persia and Greece and ancient Rome these practices come. Hmm? “Everything around us is alive, all powerful. Everything radiates with some kind of energy, and a true witch can harness that force and utilize it to her own end.” Her eyes narrowed at him. “This is warfare, remember it.”

Damn it, she couldn’t even use her tone to warn him. “Do it again. To these two,” he said, jutting his chin towards the two witches on each side of the desk. “Wait, what? Sir—” One of them said but stopped when the spell took effect and they could no longer see. They cried out, uttering spells and incantations, trying to undo the spell. “Perfect,” Ricinius said, sounding pleased. “And she is like her mother?” “Exactly like her mother,” Aunt Rose said, her smile firmly in place. How did Ricinius not see the pleased, smug look on her face? “Why don’t you bring in a couple of wolves and she can show you what she can do?”