Good Fantasy Magic Books Novels & Stories

The pattern on the front was of a wolf howling at the moon, encircled in intricate intertwining branches. Curling up in my favourite chair, I carefully lay the book in my lap and open the cover. “The ancient art of untamed magic, “I read aloud and took in the subject matter. Untamed magic was the old term used for dark or forbidden magic. My hands shook as I took in the magnitude of what I was reading. There were witches in this house channelling untamed magic, Alune was right, and it terrified me.

I tip-toe and take it out. I look around and finally settle down on a short ladder, which I hadn’t noticed before and open the book. I skim through and to my dismay, find nothing. “Not a single mention,” I mutter under my breath. I shouldn’t have expected to find much. I take a deep breath and begin to peruse again. All the books have little to no mention of mages. Not a lot of things have been written. ‘As if they will keep a record of a monster,’ Ruelle sneers suddenly, irked. I let out a heavy sigh.

The shelves curve gracefully along the inner walls of the chamber, following the natural contours of the wood, each one laden with volumes of ancient lore and mystical knowledge. The books that line the shelves are a treasure trove of wisdom, collected over centuries by the Earth Goddess and Theo as they journeyed through the realms of magic and mystery. Leather-bound tomes and weathered scrolls share space with delicate manuscripts adorned with intricate illustrations, each one a testament to the rich tapestry of knowledge that lies within.

Cody knows I stay because I love him, but is it enough to sustain us for a lifetime? The power of the elder magic weakens with each day. Without more luna lilies, my magic will become less and less. The elder magic books have many tales to tell. Some spells are how to defeat dragons and others are how to heal mermaids. They are hard to produce and even harder to memorize. The forest is dark and damp and the thickness of the trees makes it hard to spot the great green dragon flying overhead. The eve of battle is an endless peril, lost in the void of anxiety.

Bruce asks me. I shake my head. "I could use a ride if you don't mind. I am not sure I am ready to drive today," I say. I know I am not ready to drive. "I can take you, but first, I have to tell you something. I made some calls while you were sorting through some things. I wanted to give you some space. I found both of your uncles. They own a little magic shop in New Orleans. It is called Elemental Magic," Bruce says.

I seriously love reading comments. Or just leave comments at every chapter (take two seconds at the very best), vote with gems if you have few gems to spare, or share with others who might enjoy the story. I will be grateful for all the help from you. Just a comment can make a difference about the way the book perform. Follow me. I also have another book on the platform, that is full of magic and mayhem - Bloodbound - Heart of the Witch. Check it out, too, if you like to read about a witch, and the wizard next door, and a badboy Guardian Angel.

"Didn't you read a lot of fairy tales in your childhood? Witches are portrayed to be ugly and evil beings so why don't you just believe that?" The existence of witches piqued her interest as they could do spells and magic, but in those journals and books, their appearance was described to be deceiving. That they could charm people and make them see how perfect they were when in truth they were hideous to look at. There was even this journal of a man from two decades ago where he wrote that he married a witch without knowing what she was until the witch forgot that the potion she used to him was wearing off and he saw her as the real her. He tried to leave but the witch didn't let him ago. He

Isabella yelled with excitement. Mellony closed the lid tightly and they headed back to the shack. They went in and closed the door. Mellony took a piece of chalk from her apron and drew a magical circle on the floor. She placed the hourglass in the center of it. Then she recited the enchantment. “Past, present, and future. You remain the same. Birth, life, and death are not the things you claim. Let me tip the scales with the sands of time. For the spell is cast like a chime.”

I didn’t know what magic smelled like, but this room felt like it had some. I stepped inside slowly, looking around like the brave warrior princess I pretended to be when I played with my dolls. So many books. Stacks and stacks of them, tall and wide and thick and dusty. I touched one of the shelves, my fingers dragging over the wooden surface until I stopped in front of one really old-looking book with gold edges. The title was shiny. “The Flare Witches.” Oooooh. That sounded cool.

Rita The air in the hidden wing of the library was thick with the scent of aged parchment and something deeper—magic, old and restless. Rita trailed her fingers along the spines of the grimoires, each one humming under her touch like a sleeping beast. "This one," Derek murmured, pulling a heavy tome bound in cracked leather. "It’s been calling to you since we walked in." Rita took it, the moment her skin met the cover, a shudder ran through her.