Magical Incense Novels & Stories

The witch walked around the room, waving the smoking incense as she did. Zephyra resisted the urge to sneeze, watching her as she moved in a full circle around the room chanting something Zephyra didn’t understand. When Camilla finished, she couldn’t help but feel a little trapped. Camilla sat down in front of Zephyra. With what looked like a lot of pomp and circumstance, she lit the two candles and then once more started to chant. Zephyra felt the prickling of magic that grew and grew until the room was saturated with it. The magic was so thick in the air, she could almost choke on it.

I demanded, approaching her. She turned and bowed deeply. "Yes, Alpha Darien. They were blessed by the pack's eldest members just this morning and infused with white sage, rosemary, and binding oils specific to this type of ceremony." "Good." I nodded approvingly. These weren't decorative—they were essential to the ceremony, each one representing a different aspect of the binding magic. They'd anchor the spell, make it permanent and unbreakable.

"Open your eyes and take a closer look." The crowd leaned forward at the broken incense holder, baffled by the situation. Wilbur said, "The incense holder is just a replica of an antique. There's a piece of oud in there that seals the powers in it, letting out a glow and fragrance to make it look like a spirit weapon. It'll disappear in three months, tops. I can't believe such an obvious counterfeit technique was enough to fool all of you." Wilbur's words left everyone in shock, and the crowd began to inspect the broken incense holder.

If this spell held information about the recent disturbances in the coven or the identity of the saboteur, it could be a game-changer. Taking a deep breath, Seraphina began the incantation, her voice barely more than a whisper. The words flowed from her lips like a melody, and she could feel the magic responding, weaving its way through the symbols on the scroll. The air in the room seemed to shimmer with energy, and the candles flickered as though influenced by an unseen breeze.

It permeated every corner of the room, intoxicating and enticing, as though the very essence of magic had taken physical form. Dimly lit candles flickered in various corners, casting dancing shadows on the rough walls. Their ethereal glow revealed an assortment of peculiar objects scattered throughout the room—a collection of weathered scrolls adorned with cryptic symbols, vials filled with shimmering liquids, and intricately carved amulets that seemed to pulse with a dormant energy. The air seemed to carry an enchanting melody, a symphony of whispers and murmurs that danced on the edge of perception. Strange incantations reverberated through the space, uttered by unseen forces, their voices

"How do you know it's magic then?" "Everyone has a scent when they do magic." Her eyes are amber, like she's using her wolf side. "Doesn't matter if you conjure a drop of water or Niagara Falls, your magic has the same scent." "What do Rhododendrons even smell like?" I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly cold. "A strong lily-like aroma with a hint of nutmeg overtones." "That's specific." Jezza nods. "What does necromancy magic smell like?" Melanie questions.

Isobel’s lips curved into a smile; it seemed she had made the right move. Isobel explained, "This is incense I made myself. It's called rose-Infused Agarwood. It's made by soaking roses in agarwood and extracting the essence, then adding a few herbs for calming and sleep-inducing effects." Of course, this incense wasn't made by Isobel. She had stolen it from Aurora’s old studio. Aurora had always been fascinated by these unusual things since she was a child. She had converted a storage room in the Diaz household into a workshop.

The warm breath condensed into a small puff of white mist in the cold air, vanishing in an instant. He extended his slender fingers, carefully picking up the incense sticks from the offering table. The incense was specially made, black in color, and when lit, it did not emit the usual fresh scent but instead released a thick, sweet, and bloody smoke that made him cough twice. Tears welled up at the corners of his eyes, but he dared not wipe them away, letting them slide down his cheeks, afraid that such an action would be seen as disrespectful by the divine doll before him.

“It’s perfect.” “Yeah?” He smiled, a shy, insistent tug of his lips. “Yeah.” I smiled back, affirmative. “So what’s actually in it? How does it work?” “She said lighting candles and putting them around us would make the magic stronger, but you’ve sort of already done that,” he said, with a tiny, huffing laugh as he nodded around at the lit candles, in all their various colours and scents. “There’s a mix of essential oils in there – I put some on my forehead, actually, maybe you should too.”

I clear the coffee table and smooth it flat on the surface, weighing down the corners with crystals: obsidian, quartz, tiger’s eye. I grab a small clay bowl and place it beside the map. In it, I add a pinch of mugwort, a dried sprig of yarrow, and three drops of my own blood. The mixture smokes faintly as I light it, the scent sharp and ancient, filling the room with the feeling of something waking. I close my eyes, press both palms over the map, and whisper the incantation, soft but steady. "Reveal the magic left behind, Show me paths that fate aligned,