Grave Glovewort 5 Novels & Stories

“I can reach what you locked away.” I step before my mirror. My reflection smirks back, eyes glowing purple, skin humming with dark energy. ‘Now, mortal one,’ the mirror whispers inside my skull. ‘Return to the crypt. Take the mandrake roots. Brew the potion. Drink deep. Strengthen yourself. On the night of the Blood Moon festival, you will awaken the Dark Fives, witches of Ramleigh’s most ancient coven. Together, you will lay waste to Gerald and the wolves of Silvaton Ridge. The land they stole will burn.’

The plants had narrow blue silver leaves with an almost translucent quality. Instincts guiding her towards one of the wispy long stalks. “This plant it masks scent.” “Huh what?”Gina asked “Nothing.Just thinking aloud.” She made a mental note. Veilroot- perfect for stealth,even infiltration. She remembered sneaking into the library back in Silvermoon pack just to learn about the herb. ——— Flashback~ “Veilroot” The name leaps out of her mouth like a whisper. She finds a book:Herbal Compendium-Rare and Cursed.

Now, she understood—they were healing. "So… no covens?" Rita asked weakly. Gogo’s laugh was sharp. "No. You must form one. But you must also be sure." She tapped Rita’s forehead. "Use this. Not just your heart." Over the next week, Gogo armed her in subtler ways: Herbs tied in muslin—imphepho for clarity, umhlonyane for protection, beaded bracelets woven with charms against compulsion and a thick Basotho blanket, its geometric patterns hiding older, deeper wards.

~Bethany~ Just like always, I'm awoken by terrifying nightmares. I go through my usual brutal morning workout routine to get my day started, followed by a quick shower right before Zuri or Hellion wakes. Last night, after making sure that the smart ass Fae, Asad Mort, wasn’t following me, I snuck out to a disreputable bar in Torah to track down the contact of a demon black market dealer. I need to obtain Foxglove shrub, a very rare and scarce spell ingredient that is highly monitored by the Noble Council due to its being a potent ingredient used in so many outlawed dark magic spells.

The gel contained glittered green sickness. I saw it immediately, I said to myself, this one. "Nightroot blend." I deposited it and took up another. "Ashthorn extract." Another. "Silverbind oil." My breath came fast. These will not heal curses, I said to myself. "They break bodies. They weaken wolves." I was stumbling back against the shelf, and my knees were almost giving way. You were killing him, I said so tenderly, and my tears were burning my eyes. "Slowly. Every day."

Not the graves part, but the slinking around. As the chanting grew louder, the witches began to raise their hands, keeping their palms facing the sky. The ground around Rose's grave began to take on an eerie bluish-white glow, pulsing like a heartbeat, as the glow began to rise into the air. Rhychard continued to stare as the glow spread, stretching itself out over the grave as if it were reaching out to each of the witches. The square glow began to stretch, elongating into long thin threads of pulsing light as it reached for each of the people gathered around the grave, like arms reaching for a loved one. The witches opened their eyes, spreading their arms out wide, opening themselves up to

"I won't let them harm us." Aunt Cleo's voice sliced through the air like a warning bell, her words laced with urgency and gravity. "Aqua, you need to grasp the true threat of the coven. They're not just ordinary casters. Each possesses unique abilities, ranging from unnaturally swift regeneration and inhuman strength to the sinister power to manipulate creatures and even people, turning them into spies. Some even boast of an unnerving form of immortality, extending their lives far beyond the natural order. And worst of all, they have the terrifying capability to absorb the powers of other casters."

“It takes ten days for an occulence curse to resolve with treatment, and after that, a single hunter berry per month on the full moon will prevent the afflicted from turning back into a rogue when they shift.” “Very good.” Cleo smiles, her eyes meeting mine as she opens a jar of something sticky and rather stinky. Stems coated in a silver, pungent oil drop into my palm. “Silvervain.” “Good.” Another jar opens. “Severfell.” “Good. And this?” I sniff deeply, the smell coating and briefly numbing my nose. “Wolfsbane, of course.” She grins. “Gotta be careful with that one.”

With every drawing of the instructions, they glowed with an ominous light, and they seemed to roar. With a fierce swing, she struck the ground with her staff. Endless jagged rocks summoned by the inscription erupted and hurled at Wyatt and Asher with lethal precision. The duo growled and expertly swung their fists at the rocks with accurate precision, shattering them into pieces. That chance was more than enough for Lorelei to catch her breath. Before any of them could react, Lorelei took out a small white gourd from her patch; the strong rustic scent of intertwined wolfsbane and silver mixture wafted from the gourd lid and pervaded the atmosphere.

Weapon: Weapon Level: 20 Weapon Type: Epic Weapon Requirements: +25 Dex, Attack: 70-95 +5% chance of bind +5% chance of poison, dealing 3% of the target's max health as true damage for 5 seconds. Effect stacks 5 times. (Only if the glove itself hits the target) +5% chance of bleed, dealing 2% of the target's max health as true damage for 5 seconds. Effect stacks 5 times. (Increases to 15% if the target is bound)