Magic Realism Novels & Stories

"No, it wasn't, it was a prisoner. 'Cause all matters what happened to it at the beginning, at the moment it was born. All the things happen to us, to everything, are connected to the beginning, the very moment it began." Lynn stares at him steadily, thinking about the facts he just said. It can be true, can't it? You can only see what your creator wants you to see. Perhaps you will never truly know what's real or what's fake in this world. He heaves a sigh and steps front to his chair. "Oh, Lynn?" calls out Tom. "A guy dropped a message for you in morning. I asked his name, but he said you would know when you see his handwriting."

“We will show you,” I said. “But not just our memories. Not just our experiences. We show you the pack. The real pack. The living, breathing, existing pack. You see them directly. You feel them directly. You understand them directly. No filters. No interpretations. No manipulations. Just truth. Just reality. Just existence as it truly is.” “How? I cannot leave this realm. Cannot enter reality without becoming reality. Cannot experience without contaminating my nothing.” The First Dark pulled back. Afraid again. Uncertain. “You ask the impossible.”

Grace pov At full strength," Markham continued, "it can reshape matter according to falsehoods. Make lies become truth, in the most literal sense. Imagine someone claiming a building doesn't exist—and then watching it fade from reality before your eyes. Or claiming someone is dead—and having them drop lifeless despite being perfectly healthy moments before." A chill ran down my spine as my gift confirmed the horrifying truth of his words. They created this entity and are now losing their hold on it. "How is it contained?" Alex asked.

I slammed the blank page onto the desk and I wrote three words in a jagged, violet script. **[I AM REAL.]** The room began to shake. The mahogany desk started to pixelate into grey dust. The Writer didn't scream; he just watched me with a look of profound, terrifying curiosity. "Careful, Elara," he whispered as the walls began to dissolve into white light. "If you write yourself into the 'Actual Real', there’s no 'Undo' button. If you die there... you stay dead." "Good," I roared. "That's how life is supposed to work!"

If not for its incapability of conjuring a spirit it would have been a spirit-grade item. Its features include, ‘reality conjuring’, ‘mind bind’, ‘illusion creation’, ‘mind manipulation’, and ‘information manipulation’. Reality conjuring was as its name a function that allowed it to create anything at all, from a single item to an entire town filled with actual living beings! Only, no matter how real they looked or felt in the end they were but a high-level trick to the mortal mind. Its weakness was that the second a person was able to convince their mind that it wasn’t real then all the conjuring would become transparent holograms incapable of fooling anyone.

she asked. “This waterfall was built on a massive power… of illusion.” “Illusion?” She thought this place was almost like a dream. It felt familiar but yet so distant. Now she knows why.” “The olden days, the magic was still pure, so this imagination became real.” She covered her mouth. “Something that should never exist became real.” He nodded his head in agreement.

Philip put down his food and the kids all looked at him and paid attention, “some of the scrolls I found talked about the magic of the realm, the people and the creatures that roam the land,” “What kind of creatures?” Kurt asked. “Magnificent beasts of all shapes and sizes living on the land, in the water, and in the sky. These creatures aren’t like the animals here on Earth. They’re smarter and a lot more special because they all have a mystic ability unlike any animal you know of. The most magnificent of all the creatures in Randos are the Krans,” “What are Krans?” Lydia asked.

Tears welled up, streaming down her face as she took in the familiar surroundings. Sitting on the edge of her bed, Ezra surveyed the room. It was frozen in time, each element meticulously placed, as if she had left just yesterday. The tidiness of the room mirrored her younger self's preferences. Despite the passage of time, the essence of her past lingered in the air.The room seemed to whisper stories of laughter, dreams, and quiet moments. Pictures on the wall told tales of a different era, frozen smiles capturing a time when everything felt simpler.

The shockwave made soldiers on both sides stagger, ears ringing. Between Elianna and Malric, reality warped—lines bending, colors smearing, as though the world were a canvas left in rain. The two magics grated against each other, spitting sparks the size of fists, each spark birthing brief visions of impossible things: burning ice, screaming angels, deserts made of mirrors. Then the visions vanished, consumed by the grinding clash. Malric sneered. “You were a lost brat in the woods when I began carving kingdoms. How dare you stand before me?”

Nerissa said quietly, stepping closer. "Can you believe it, Nerissa? Isabella and Roman? It feels like a nightmare I can't wake up from!" Mateo gasped through his sniffles. "Mateo, I can only imagine how betrayed you must feel. It’s a lot to take in. But maybe... maybe it’s a sign. Perhaps it's better to face the truth now than hold onto a lie. For you, and for little Amara," Nerissa said softly, brushing Mateo’s hand gently.