Heirs Of Magic Novels & Stories

“No.” He was quiet. “Why?” “I don’t know.” “You’re a firstborn.” The words made my stomach twist. “What does that have to do with it?” Cerus looked at me as if the answer should have been obvious. “Firstborn heirs are taught about magic.” I stared at him, then turned back around. Well, that explained it. Elysande would know, but not me. “Well, I wasn’t.” “How unusual.” I kept my mouth shut, now wanting to dig a deeper hole for myself.

“It’s not that simple. He’s not just a man. He’s tied to the very magic we’ve been hunting. He’s one of the original holders of the dark relics.” The group stared at her, shock and disbelief in their eyes. They had known that there were forces at play beyond their understanding, but this was something different. They hadn’t been prepared for this kind of revelation. “He’s the heir to the magic,” Diana continued. “The original heir. He’s been hiding in the shadows for centuries, waiting for the right moment to return. And now that he’s here—now that he’s shown himself—there’s no turning back.” The words hung heavy in the air, and for a long moment, no one spoke. The truth was too overwhelming

It was never actually signed. - And I thought that Alato and Bortan are eternal... Do you think it's a coincidence that they died almost simultaneously? And their heir ... - the sorceress clenched her fists. “They have one heir, Radolyub. Son of two worlds. The contract exists, it is created by magic. Etzhast told me about this, he was present when it was concluded. But it doesn't matter anymore. “There are no more dragons in our world,” Radolyub said with a renewed laugh. But we will still die.

So she had given it one. Far away—farther than Selene could now feel—the old bloodlines stirred. Confusion rippled through houses that had ruled quietly for centuries. Rituals long considered infallible misfired. Protections woven into heirs at birth thinned without explanation. Magic that had once answered automatically now hesitated, demanded precision, exacted cost. They would call it instability. They would blame rivals. They would never suspect her. The inheritance was gone. And with it, Selene’s safety.

“She’s weak… weaker than I had ever seen her, and she’s in so much pain.” “That’s why I’m here and I’m not leaving,” Cora assured him. “I’ll make sure she survives giving birth to this baby, and I’ll make sure that this baby’s magic doesn’t take over her small body.” “How do you suppose you do that?” Zachary asked, narrowing his eyes. “I read somewhere about magic transfer. Magic can be transferred to family heirlooms and kept safe until the intended owner of said magic spills their blood onto the heirloom… only then will the magic be restored.”

I couldn’t run from it anymore. The chamber hadn’t just shown me Seraphine’s past. It had claimed me. Whatever I was before this moment, whatever I tried to pretend to be, was gone. I was not just the girl who crossed the wrong line into a hidden school. I was the heir of a legacy buried beneath stone and silence. And now, my magic bore the proof.

“But I’m all she’s got.” The vision ended. The book in my hands glowed, waiting. And I sat there—confused, overwhelmed, and more emotionally unstable than a werewolf during PMS. "...She left me homework?" “Technically, a legacy,” Mr. Yellow called from above. “But yeah. Homework.” The ant council peered down from a ceiling crack. “We voted. You’re officially the witch’s heir. Condolences.” I groaned and buried my face in my hands. “I don’t even like magic. I failed basic enchantment theory! I still can’t shift! I eat canned beans and I talk to celery!”

“I’m a teacher at the Arcane Lyceum, the magic school. You’re currently in one of our transfer stations.” My brain scrambled to keep up. “Transfer station?” She nodded. “Every time a chosen heir activates their keepsake, they are brought here, to prepare for entry into the Lyceum. You, Zara, were chosen. By blood… and by fate.” I looked down at the watch again. It glowed faintly. “This old thing brought me here?” She smiled. “It’s not just a watch. It’s a sealed heirloom, passed down by bloodlines tied to ancient magic. Some carry spells. Some, memories. Yours? We’ll find out in time.”

Miles muttered before he flipped to another page. "Vampirar is vampire." I put away the heavy drapes. Bright and blinding rays of the sun penetrated my skin, leaving a somewhat stinging sensation. I stepped away from the windows and grabbed clean clothes, opting for a casual dress and light leather boots. The weather seemed fine, and in case his family invited us to while the day away with more outdoor activities, at least I'd be comfortable. "What's 'dhampirica'?" "Half-vampire, half-human offspring," Miles said flatly.

“Why do you need to protect me?” “Your uncle wants you dead. He later found out he took the wrong twin. You’re the rightful heir to the throne. You are the heir of the light “Heir of the what?” I started laughing so hard. I’m seriously buying into this? I just can’t believe everything she’s telling me. Like what? Like I’m a king or something.