Grimoire Synonym Novels & Stories

"It has been three months, father. This is a hybrid baby that we are talking about!" Gwydion coughed a little. "What are your plans?" "Put a bond at risk." Gwydion muttered, his lips curled into a hesitant grin. "Huh?" Tommaso was astounded. "The Grimoire. It is a link between a seer and her people. A bond capable of severing the mate bond. Do you not recall that those two are meant to be together? Their parents had a good reason for setting up such a formal engagement." Gwydion explained, maintaining that smile on his lips.

the woman explained. I pondered her words and began to grasp the concept. It seemed akin to accidentally disrespecting a sacred place by spitting on it, then spitting again to negate the first act. "Wait," I said, chuckling as I began to see where this conversation was going. "Are you suggesting..." "Exactly, Luna. The original Rein krnasi used the Grimoire as the basis for their intimate ritual, and you must do the same," the woman said, leaving me momentarily speechless.

She sighed and said, “A Grimoire is a book of spells. Every witch has hers. Part of being one is that we can create different spells or potions. Sometimes grimoires are passed down from generation to generation, as it is in our family. Emma will have Queen Clarissa’s grimoire. It is very extensive, to tell the truth.” I nodded silently, wanting to continue asking, but I knew now was not the time. I saw how she closed her eyes for a few seconds. She took a deep breath and then opened them, saying, “spiriti, guida e ritrova ciò che è andato perduto. Trova l’anima perduta in moda che ritorni nel suo corpo.” — Spirits, guide and find what has been lost. Find the lost soul so that it returns to i

“They’re written in Old Tongue the language of the first witches. And they’re protected. You can’t just read them. You have to… negotiate.” “Negotiate with a book?” “With the magic inside it.” Dorian moved to one of the shelves, pulling down a tome that looked like it was bound in something that definitely wasn’t leather. Definitely wasn’t anything Selene wanted to think too hard about. “Grimoires are alive, in a sense. They contain the essence of the witch who created them. If you want their knowledge, you have to prove yourself worthy.” “And how do I do that?”

No normal could see them, for they are wrapped with incantations from their best wizards. Burning out from his curiosity, he leaned and started to speak. "Hey you, normal! Can you see me?"

Sally couldn’t understand much of what he wrote, but she found one entry, towards the end of the journal, very interesting: November 21st ___ Success! Sweet and blessed success. Finally I have the vindication I long sought. My heart is so light I believe I could burst out into song, were it not for my awful voice and the shocked dismay of the servants, who already think my habits queer enough. I have lost several days to poring over the Grimoire, a dense and obscure text to be sure, but not an unrewarding one, given careful study. Though I know nothing about the author’s character, or any detail of his life, he could perhaps have been a brother of mine (or even a sister?), so closely aligned

At least the female he wants accepts the fact he lost. I turn my attention back to the field to see Moor preparing to fight with the Hassin commander and my hands tighten in my lap. The Gaimo champion looks strong as he displays his bulging muscles and scale-protected skin, but just like with the Vaal... The Hassin is bigger. The copper-colored beast of a male looks unbeatable compared to Moor.

He wore his usual black waistcoat, sleeves rolled up, but his expression was darker, more intense. In his hands rested a thick, ancient grimoire bound in deep crimson leather. Gold runes pulsed faintly on the cover. “The Breeding Grimoire,” he said, voice low and resonant. “A medieval fertility text. It demands a full ritual enactment to neutralize its power. You will read the incantations aloud while I perform the rites. The book requires multiple offerings — deep, thorough breeding — until the magic is sated. Do not stop reading, no matter how full or overwhelmed you become.”

I wasn't dumb to not notice it. I was about to leave when a particular object grabbed my attention. More like a book which had been off limits to me. The Grimoire of Eldritch enchantments. I gasped, knowing what it was. One of the most powerful weapons the Shadow Weavers possess. This very book lying in front of me had the most malevolent spells to exist, spells which could destroy generations. Spells that teach you basic to master level of dark magic.

He reached into the symbol, pulling out an old leather bound book. "This, my dear, is a very important grimoire, it's written in ancient Irish Gaelic. Duibhne will have to read it and explain what it says. The book contains all of your Shadowsoul bloodline spells and curses, including the remedies," he said solemnly as he slid the large book across the table to me. I was about to touch the old book when my mother invaded my thoughts screaming about the grimoire.