Mage's Book Novels & Stories

Her mansion is purely vintage. The walls are bookshelves overcrowded with books, even the lengthy table in the middle of this space is occupied with books and blueprints of magic—just like how messy a mage could be. I laid the carrier on the table, silently, observing her motions that might seem alarming while she's performing enchantment to Hedwelch and Danteleon.

I straighten my back as my father taught me, and open my senses like I do when hunting. "My mother is Goddess to all Werewolves. Second only to the Moon Goddess herself. I am immune to your magic, hag. The Goddess of Night made it so. My mother has been preparing me every night for the past four years. I will end you and free the enslaved people you keep here," I say proudly, reciting everything my mother has told me over the years. Her all-black eyes widen like a Saturday morning cartoon. "Immune to Magic," she snarls, and I nod.

I did not make eye contact with Laura but only focused on Margo who uneasily gave me a small hint of a smile as she turned the phone on almost as if she was reassuring me. The phone lit up the room and it was so silent you could hear my stomach grumble because my wolf was desperate to try and get was craving food, water, and everything that I could not have in front of what I was dealing with now. I could see the High Priestess devilishly smile as she must have heard my stomach grumble. “There’s nothing here High Priestess,” Margo stated. There it was and I prepared to speak so somehow Laura could not be hurt from all of this.

"Okay, then how do we find this out?" "Well, surely there is a library here. Maybe the answers are there," I pointed out. "This would be something you would have to ask Nerrian," he said. "Who's that?" "That is the Sorcerer. He is in charge of the magick and the history of the Golden Draygons," Erik replied. "Magick? Sorcerer?" Erik gave me a half-grin. "You are surrounded by Draygon shifters, and you are doubting the existence of magick?"

And so Olive, Chelsea, and the less talkative Rosie spent the day watching one Disney movie to another. Rosie and Olive were having the time of their lives, Chelsea, however, was still stuck on how her friend had so casually used wordless magic. It wasn't that she was sad or mad her friend could, she was rather worried because witches at her age could not activate their ability to use wordless magic until after their Coming of Age Ceremony. She didn't think Olive even noticed it, meaning that she had been doing so for a long time.

It was hand written. She went on, flipping the book and stopping to read through some parts of it. It was a book about spells and she found herself laughing at the silliness of the thought that magic was still in existence. Some of the spells in the book made Matilda to shake her head and conclude that the book had been written during the time that witches existed. Some of the recipes in the book had ingredients like a two day old crow's blood, the crushed bark of a cider tree, four leaved clovers, mint leaves that had bloomed in the summer and many other bizarre ingredients.

‘Making this happen,” Marcia replied, ‘Don’t forget what Azulthael said, if you die, we will most likely join you in death. ‘I don’t plan on dying.’ ‘Neither do we, but like we always tell you over and over, we are always in this type of shit together,’ Lacey added in, the other women nodding in agreement. “I sense a strange magic, I can sense a bond, stronger than mates, but not a created mental link, it smells older, but you are so young, and I thought when your father performed the feat of magic to save me and bind me here was the last time I ever would ever witness incredible magics, such is the life of a Magnus it seems,” Alahn said, stepping forward to stand between the four women and

Heat crept into my face. “I hate how the two of you notice everything.” Magnus took another sip of his tea. “You’ll hate it even more after today’s lesson.” Before I could ask what he meant, the large doors opened once again and Valerian walked inside. The old Archmage carried three enormous books stacked so high in his arms that I could barely see his face behind them. Dust floated into the air with every step he took. He reached the table and dropped all three books directly in front of me. The loud thud echoed through the dining hall.

Mother Agnes says. "Okay," I say. I follow Mother Agnes to another room. Libby follows up, bringing the book. There is a table with candles and a black and purple cloth resting neatly on it. The three of us sit at the table. Libby scoots the book to Mother Agnes for her to open. Mother Agnes says something over the book in almost a whisper. The book opens. The book seems to take on a life of its own. The page race from the beginning to the end and then settle on the first page.

Elizabeth and Thomas looked at each other in concern then turned to their attention to Maggie Sawyer pondering her fate, they could not let her die yet this book had no answers to her salvation. Genysys Criso managed to creep herself into reading the inscriptions and start fearmongering “So there isn't any hope for her…” her words broke the silence and induced chills in everyone that heard her words “She will die and the entirety of Crawly will be taken down to Hell” Elizabeth rose from her seat and addressed her and the entirety of the people gathered there “Just because the book doesn’t know how to stop them doesn’t mean there is no solution to this problem and a way to save both Maggie an