Fictional Wizards Novels & Stories

Emily smiled gratefully and two of them sat down on mats that had already been placed for them. Two women and two men came in and stood before them. "Can you tell by looking which one is the most powerful and decipher who's the witch, wizard, and sorcerer amongst them?" Emily closed her eyes and tried to concentrate. "You should know that the difference between these three is that. Witches cast spells, and are nothing without spells and potions. Wizards are witches who have read and read till they've memorized the spells. They've gone deeper and done serious research and now possess more knowledge than the average witch, that translates to power. While witches have to call out the spells wit

He ended up taking one whose cover had caught his attention, purple velvet, which seemed to be Ruvyn's favourite colour. He laid down on the bed again and opened the book, it was about the most famous wizards who lived, those who made history. Like Nostradamus who used to make predictions or Rasputin who was a famous healing wizard, who used his sorcery to treat the Tsar and his wife, many times, without forgetting Nicolas Flamel who was the alchemist to succeed, in creating the philosophers stone, and the elixir of life in the 17th century. All those strange people he read about in his fantasy books like Harry Potter existed also in their world and they were somehow related to his new frien

“I don’t want to know if I’m evil. I’ve gone my whole life without using magic. I don’t need to use it. But I do need to figure out what happened to Winter.” “Then, you’re going to have to get help from someone else.” Glinda snapped her fingers, and a business card appeared. It was black, with gold lettering on it. Mordred Orkney, Wizard. “Wizard?” Nora asked. “I thought male witches were called warlocks.” “They are,” said Glinda, “wizards aren’t warlocks. Wizards are humans that use magic like drugs. They inject it into their system. They’re not born with it. Enchantresses are the same thing.”

"Which creatures exist among the fairy tales Jo and I have read? Are Vampires, Werewolves, Dwarfs, Hobbits living amongst us? Wait, is Gandalf for real?" Anna asks incessantly. "Who is Gandalf?" Caspian interrupts Anna. "Okay, you haven't heard about him, so he is fictional. He is a wizard." Anna answers. They are now a little bit into the forest now. "A wizard?" Caspian repeats. "Yes…someone with great magical powers." Anna explains. Caspian stops walking. "A being with magical powers?" he asks with interest. "Yes, but he is a good wizard. Saruman is the evil one."

And he moved away. The girl was glad that at the creation class she managed to make her "wizard's sword", that wand, properly, but all this time, careful as always, she asked Johnny: “What are the forest elves?” “Some creatures that lived long ago. It is said they were the first wizards.”

I nodded. "I understand." I said to her and I left the same way I came. Observer's POV This got more interesting than I thought. I never suspected Kate, the Spears housekeeper, to be a ruler of the night. The young girl definitely looked extremely innocent to be suspected. This new information gave me a chilly feeling about the mole we have in our midst that works for Sage. Anyway, a lot has been on both at the Magical world and the human world. The war has truly began. It only needed time to escalate and something else to fuel it. Something both worlds do not have in their possession at the moment - the magical band.

That was the strangest thing about this mystery. "What happened a week ago?" Belle asked, dreading the answer. "Oh." Damien chuckled. "Now that would be telling." Looking about the room, Belle could hazard a guess. An insanely unlikely one. 'Magic spells only work in fiction,' she thought. Still... what other explanation was there? If she were crazy, surely she wouldn't be aware of her condition. Crazy people don't know they are crazy. "Whatever you've done, please make it stop," she asked, staring at him with pleading, tear-filled eyes.

He struggled to resist the stop, his vitality draining away, darkness obscuring every corner of his vision. HeVox was a nightmare. This time he was standing in front of a large, black altar. Strange characters appeared everywhere. Above your head, a horned wizard floats in a large glowing disc, defying gravity with his magical powers. When Ragnar saw him floating. A beam of light passed through the wizard's clawed hand, but he made no threatening gesture. Ragnar raised his weapon but did not attack because he wanted to see what would happen. "What can my master give for your soul?" asked the wizard in a voice mixed with magic. 'What do you want? Think and it will be yours.''

“And your friend… he’s no longer just Carter Fisher.” A cold chill slithered down my spine. I swallowed hard, but my voice came out as barely a whisper. “Then what is he?” The Wizard met my gaze—steady, unblinking. "The beginning of the Wicked.” “He wouldn’t give in to that,” I bit out, the words laced with disbelief. “Carter’s stronger than that—he wouldn’t let something like this take him.” The Wizard exhaled a slow, weary sigh, his pipe smoke curling in the dim light. “Child…” His tone had changed—softer, almost pitying. “He hasn’t told you anything, has he?”

“Of course not. It’s just a house . . . my house, as you said.” “I can’t believe it. You’re Mr. Horror, and you don’t believe in ghosts? How is that even possible?” “Okay, Bias, I’m going to blow your mind with one hell of a revelation about writers and their stories. I’m pretty sure Lewis Carroll never fell down a rabbit hole into a magical Wonderland; it doesn’t seem likely that Anne Rice believes in vampires; and I highly doubt J.K. Rowling has met any real wizards. That’s what makes it fiction and not nonfiction.”