Magic Story Novels & Stories

The beauty of nature. Once that was done, she tossed the rabbits away. They scampered off like it was all in a day’s work. “Thank you,” I said. I wasn’t going to shake hands. “You were right.” “Love,” said the Magi. Then she made a circle with her finger and thumb and poked it again. I wasn’t entirely sure what she was trying to say, but she obviously knew how to break the spell on Jenny. Could all of the Queen’s spells be broken with a shag, or did it only work if you were in love? Was that what she was trying to say?

With Marina’s plan, she wouldn’t be hurting Mariana’s feelings. “Mariana, we humans can always go there. There’s just one thing we need — magic. Magic will let us do impossible things! Flying, for instance, will be a piece of cake. Your grandpa could fly too when he was alive,” she explained, the image of her late husband flying was on her mind. “How do I get magic then, grandma?” Mariana asked. “Now, this is the most important part. To get magic, you have to be a good kid.”

Well, according to the teacher: A mage is a term commonly used in fantasy literature and role-playing games to refer to a practitioner of magic. The concept of mages has been a popular element in various mythologies and folklore throughout history, often associated with supernatural abilities and the manipulation of mystical forces. In most fantasy settings, mages are individuals who possess the innate or learned ability to harness and control magical energy. They are often depicted as having a deep understanding of the arcane arts, allowing them to cast spells, create magical artifacts, and manipulate the elements. Mages are typically distinguished from other magical beings, such as witches

“He won’t tell me what I really am, so I said, if I do magic, I must be a magician.” Grandma laughed, and I headed for the stairs, wondering how I would climb them all. Under her breath, I heard her say, “Close. Not a magician… a mage.”

I stepped forward while every wolf stared at me with heroic enthusiasm and absolutely no understanding of safety. “Magic is like heat,” I said. “Too much at once burns. Too little does nothing. You must learn to feel the balance.” The wolves nodded solemnly. I held my palms up and created a small glow of harmless magic. “Now you try.” They all raised their hands. Nothing happened. Then everything happened. One wolf’s fingertips sparked and shot a puff of glitter straight into his own face. He screamed that he was blind. Another wolf created a spark that lit his scarf on fire. His friend tried to put it out with snow but accidentally slapped him with a snowball instead.

I inhale sharply. Whoever cast this… They weren’t merely powerful, they were brilliant. Layer upon layer of enchantment folds over itself so seamlessly that even another witch might walk past without noticing. I close my eyes again. The world around me disappears. Only the spell remains. I don’t attack it. That would be a mistake. Power answers power, violence answers violence. No… Magic has a language. Every spell tells a story. Every enchantment leaves fingerprints. I simply begin reading. Slowly.

But instead of old stories from my grandmother’s life, the pages were scrawled with strange symbols and sketches—shorthand in her handwriting explaining the purpose of different runes and sigils. Flipping through the pages, there were sketches of wolves, and the last page that she’d written in had a detailed rendition of a nightmarish wolf-beast that made my blood run cold at the sight of it, it’s eyes smudged over with charcoal in the shape of a protective rune. My heart raced when I realized what I was holding. This was no ordinary journal, it was a spell book.

Or perhaps, I thought, dread creeping in, it was magic. That had to be it. Magic was the only explanation. Only those with mana—like wizards, alphas, or betas—could read such messages. I was just a regular wolf with no special powers, no magical sight to unveil the secrets hiding within. It felt unfair, like the universe itself was conspiring to keep me in the dark. I groaned, gripping the letter tighter before quickly loosening my hold, afraid I’d accidentally crumple the delicate paper. Hopeless. That’s what this was.

But that would only happen for a normal human. I pulled out a strand of my hair and then my eyes gleamed Scarlett red. I chanted a spell as I held on to the hair and it suddenly turned to a small bird. I let the bird fly out through the window, controlling it till it landed somewhere in the forest. It was a simple teleportation spell. One I never learnt or remembered acquiring in the first place. All I knew was, the spell was always in me and now again, it was going to be handy for me. My eyes gleamed red again as I chanted the finishing spell. I closed my eyes and as I opened them, the moonlight's gaze was what welcomed me first and the gentle breeze that came with it. It was mainly dark bu

Anita falls to the ground unconscious. There is always a prize to pay when using magic