End Of Magic Era Novels & Stories

The celebrations continued until a victor emerged, gloating of the adventure and wonder that is Iridian. What the television didn’t talk about were the casualties. Some would go mad after playing the game, others would simply vanish without a trace. Five years ago, a woman had returned from the games, her chestnut hair had turned white as snow. Those who played the game were unable to speak of the details when they returned, to keep the mystery of Iridian alive. Only one thing was spoken from those who had played, as it was the same message every year. Magic had vanished from the world, but in the Iridescence Pack, magic was very much alive.

Chapter 113: the pendant Elena pov The word hung in the air like a death sentence. Forbidden Magic! I felt the blood drain from my face. Magic had been outlawed for over two centuries, ever since the Great Purge when wolves with magical abilities had nearly destroyed the entire Lycan hierarchy in their bid for dominance. Anyone suspected of wielding magic was to be executed immediately, no trial, no mercy. It was the one absolute law that united all packs, all territories, all kingdoms.

Pure instinct had taken over. At some point, I lost count of the bodies I had killed with my magic. But still, I carried on with utter determination to annihilate the threat to my people once and for all. Through the haze of my bloodlust, I noticed that the hunter's numbers were thinning drastically. We had the advantage!

“A long time ago, the world of magic wasn’t divided into light and dark. There was just magic. Just witches. That’s it. We used nature—stones, herbs, the wind and stars. Magic was warm. Gentle. Healing. Balanced.” She pauses. “And then… one of us broke away. His name was Caedrim.” The name alone sounds ancient. “He vanished for a decade. Ten years. That’s all. But when he returned, he was no longer the same. His magic—” She shudders. Slightly. “—it was wrong. Cold. Corrosive. And far, far too powerful for someone who’d only been gone ten years. It was the kind of strength that took centuries to cultivate. And yet… he had it. All at once.”

Magic. “Three hundred years,” Harris muttered. His scarred face looked carved in stone. “Three hundred years since Wildbourne’s founding. That’s when they told us the last mages fell. That’s when we destroyed the lycans. We built ourselves into silver and steel. And now the world spits mages back at us.” The silence was suffocating. I felt it pressing against my chest like a weight I couldn’t shift. “How do we fight spells?” Nina whispered. Her voice cracked, and her hand curled over her stomach like a shield. “We weren’t bred for this.”

I didn't bother knocking as I shoved the double doors open, finding my father behind his desk, a glass of dark liquor in his hand as he reviewed the academy’s files. He didn't look up. "You're late for curfew, Ace. And the team dinner isn't over. Didn't expect to find you home any earlier than midnight." "I don't give a shit about curfew," I snarled, walking up to the desk and slamming my palms down on the wood. I leaned over, my shadow looming over him. "Tell me about the magic users. The ones you supposedly wiped out thirty years ago." My father finally lifted his eyes, his gaze cold and entirely unbothered. "Supposedly? It did happen, Ace. And I told you already. The covens were purged. T

It was the same argument Sharra used, but that didn't make it right. "Why do you want to stop what so naturally is?" Abernathy continued. "Unless you're worried creatures of magic will agree with her instead of you?" He gave me a knowing glance, and I cringed. Clearing my throat, I steeled myself and tried to match his glare. The idea of losing one's magic made no sense. Why would someone willingly give up such a gift? Choose to mate with lesser creatures? Weakening their power. There was no rhyme or rationale behind the logic. Flapping my wings in frustration, I said, "The unicorns believed as Sharra does, and they are all but extinct, each generation their magic is diluted until the younge

“Two hundred million over the course of three hundred years. Give or take a few million. We weren’t great at keeping track back then.” “That doesn’t sound like a whole lot. There are eight billion people-” “There weren’t eight billion back then. Six hundred million at most. Spread out across the planet, and everyone was sick. Everyone. Some survived, most didn’t.” “Right. So this Beauregard… what happened to him in the end?” “He used strong magic casters, and the spell keeping him alive was damn near unbreakable. The Towers were cracking. Things started to happen. Weird shit. Not planes falling out of the sky weird-”

Pulse asked. “Different forms of magic operate on different frequencies. Thus, making it difficult to master more then one domination. But every few millenaries the convergence takes place, all magic is up for grabs, and the staff of Jogan is one of the few weapons in parabolas that can take the full amount. The Undertaker walked closer to Pulse as he explains. Finding himself at a loss for words, Pulse was perplexed on his father’s false demise. “I see your baffled, Son.” Eric smiled with a horrid cecal.

But in the end, it was their decision, and we had no choice but to accept it. There were never any huge fights or cheating scandals between them as far as I knew. They simply fell out of love. Now Dad lived in Manchester with his girlfriend, handling the Burkhart & Wilson Enterprise branch there while Mom handled things back home. Surprisingly, they still got along well. After the call ended, Maggie and I eventually started driving back. “So you’re really not going to say goodbye to Zai at all?” I asked as I parked in front of her boyfriend's apartment building.