Mage Of Blood Homestuck นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Blood. Blood magic. My lips part, my mouth dropping open. Blood magic is very dark magic. Only a few witches in Moonrise get to learn it, and Maeve was one of them. “Why did you do that to him?” I shout. “Because he’ll drop dead if he ever lets any harm come to you,” she rushes out, opening the door. “Go, Logan. Go to the temple and secure a priestess for tonight.” He looks at me, but Maeve clicks her tongue at him.

She closes her fist. One of the lesser hybrids screams. He drops to his knees as his magic collapses inward, folding like wet paper. Blood pours from his nose and ears, his stolen power tearing itself apart under pressure it can’t survive. The others recoil. The main hybrid snarls. “Enough!” He strikes first. Darkness lashes out—blood magic, death magic, something older stitched through it like barbed wire. It slams toward Vaelira with enough force to level a keep. I move without thinking.

"As soon as we can awaken your mage blood, then your training will not be that hard for you since you were a trained fighter who had been through a lot." "Awaken my mage blood?" Lanver was confused. He didn't know if he could ever be accustomed to the terms used in this world. "Yes. Right now we can only feel your presence as a human. Princess Anna must have sealed it to hide you. However, your blood as a mage must be so strong that it could resist Princess Anna's spell, that's why there were times, as you've noticed, when something weird were happening to you." "Why would you know what was happening to me back there?"

The white-haired woman pulled a contraption from her robes, like the bridle of a horse. “What is that?” I recoiled. The mage with the melodious voice stepped forward and grabbed my face by the jaw, holding me still. I tried to pull away. The contraption had a metal bar with sharp looking spikes and a framework of leather straps. “Hold her,” the woman ordered the men as I screamed and struggled against them. The half-ogre roared in response, and for a moment, fought his way free of his guards. “Ianaceo,” she growled out at the ogre with the bitter bite of magic, and the ogre fell flat onto the floor, though he continued to growl and groan, he could not move. “Don’t make me do the same to you,

“You DARE use blood magic against me? You’re a fool, Charlotte.” “Maybe,” I whispered, “but I’m a mother first.” I slammed my blood-covered hand against the glowing floor sigils. Light erupted. Darkness surged. Our powers collided like lightning striking stone. The blast shook the entire crypt—maybe the entire kingdom. Kael and the guards were thrown back. Lyra shielded herself, stumbling but staying close. Emmalaine screamed as her magic clashed with my blood, meeting in the air like two storms colliding. “You cannot get away with this!” Emmalaine shrieked, voice thick with rage. “Your soul is ALREADY fading!”

The message would send them rushing back, forcing them to converge, strengthening their numbers against the monsters creeping from behind. Two problems solved with one command. From where I stand, the letters begin to etch themselves across the sky. A-I-T— Then the mage doubles over. His body convulses as he coughs up blood, crimson spilling over his chin. His nose and ears begin to bleed, the glow in his eyes shattering. “He’s been attacked!” a woman cries, rushing forward. She’s tall, her long red hair gleaming like fire in the fading light, eyes the same burning shade. Her staff—deep redwood carved with runes—shivers in her grip as she kneels beside him.

"Celeste, don't make this harder." "Not making anything harder. Finally doing what's right." Something cold and mean crept into his eyes. "Think this changes anything? Think throwing your life away fixes this mess?" "Not throwing it away," she said steady as hell. "Taking it back." Darius shook his head like she was crazy. "Magic still needs blood. If not hers then yours. Someone's gotta die." Celeste turned to me and her eyes had this calm look like she already decided and made peace with it.

I never expected it to do more. “Why now?” Dagen demands. I meet his eyes finally. “Because if I didn’t… she would’ve killed me. Because you demanded I fucking fight and something, somewhere inside of me snapped and did what you asked!” Silence falls again. Dagen doesn’t look away, but something in his gaze shifts. Not anger. Not disgust. Something more dangerous. Curiosity. Calculation. “Magic like that,” Rael says, choosing his words carefully, “doesn’t just appear. It’s blood-bound. Lineage. Ancestral.”

“Where did the blood come from?” She shakes her head. “It’s not what you think, MILO.” “It’s not?” “No.” “What is it, then?” She sighs again. “I don’t want to tell you,” she admits. “You’re scaring me.” She nods. “I was doing blood magic.” I freeze. “What?” “For the baby, MILO.” “Blood magic?” I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “You’re doing Moon Drinker magic?” “You know what WILDER taught us,” she says. “What makes it evil is that the Moon Drinkers use other people’s blood. I’m just using my own.”

Two days remain until the rite. I have read every page of my mother's journals. I know her fears, her hopes, the names of every wolf who died for her. And I know Maeve's weakness. Blood magic requires sacrifice. The more Maeve uses, the more she needs. Her power is a fire that devours everything around her, including herself. "You are thinking like a queen," a voice whispers. I turn. Roran stands at my window, his body wedged sideways through the narrow gap. He drops silently to the floor, landing in a crouch.