Magical Mood Novels & Stories

She scolded herself immediately when she realized that there's a lot of problems on her hands right now. "I think this is a good place for your wedding reception Jace,the food is great and the waitresses are beautiful,"she heard the one wearing a plain white Polo shirt said. So,her man's name is Jace. She smiled inwardly. "I can definitely agree with Jared,Jace,,"said the beautiful lady. " Sanity would love it here".

Valerie seems determined to give me the full tour of her guest list. The third person she brings me to is someone different. A striking woman with deep brown skin, a sharp bob, and eyes that gleam with genuine curiosity. Her name is Imara. The moment Valerie mentions I teach Occult Studies, Imara’s whole face lights up. “No way. That’s your actual job?” I nod my head, a little amused. “It is.” Imara leans in, wine glass forgotten in her hand. “Okay, you have to tell me everything. What’s your take on ancestral magic? Or ley lines? Do you think any of it’s real?”

"Can you or can't you?" She arched an eyebrow. "Don't get impatient, princess. Magic's an art, not a state of mind, that takes time." I groaned. "Then we're lost." Liam snorted. Magda hesitated, her trembling hand held in mid-air. "All right, all right. I can do that. But there's a catch." "There always is," I said to her. "The spell won't hold," she informed me. "It will dissolve if it catches a scent of blood. If you get slashed up in an accident or intentionally and start to bleed, then the glamour will start to unravel until your body can heal itself."

The surrounding air thickens, heavy with the essence of magic, and I become one with this wild and voracious power. The spell is complex, an intricate web of magic that demands precision and absolute focus. To master such power, to force a transformation of the lycans, I spent nights in deep study and practice. The moon, majestic and full, dominates the sky, its silver light bathing the earth and intensifying the aura of mystery and power. It seems to grow, immense and imposing, as if it were about to touch the ground, emanating a primal energy that amplifies my magic, strengthening every cell in my body. Behind me, at the castle, I sense the agitation taking form even before hearing the fir

She just left a letter telling him not to worry, she will come back before sunset, otherwise, he will freak out. It took her a while just to get herself outside. The palace was so big that she can't even find the exit. She can't remember how many doors she has opened thinking it will lead her in the right direction. Ugh! I don't want to live in such a big place like this. Everything is just inaccessible. It was a perfect day with perfect weather. This place never fails to amaze her. It was very magical especially with those huge and small mushrooms that loom during the night. Different tube of crystals sticks everywhere and those fireflies-

Maerilee The dog treat trembles in my hand, faint pulses of magic swirling around it like threads of silver. I close my eyes, focusing on the barrier I’m trying to create. The energies stretch from my fingertips, encasing the treat in an invisible shield, or at least what I hope is an invisible shield. My breath slows as I concentrate, willing the magic to hold steady. A faint hum tickles the back of my mind. My magic is attempting to do what it’s supposed to but deep down, I can feel how weak it is, how flimsy the barrier must be.

His face had already turned pale, his eyes reddish and his mouth dried of spits. He began slowing down the warriors who were moving fast to walk out of that land so that they could drink water. Because of the spirit sent by the wicked Oracle, each hour was meant to be like 10 hours. This was meant to make them feel the pang of a 10-hour thirst in each passing hour. The wicked Oracle who was watching the warriors from his mystical mirror believed that by multiplying their pang of water by 10, he’ll force the entire warriors to drink the poisonous water and die, thereby jeopardizing their mission to bring the Magic Bean and save the ailing King.

I was the changeling, I thought, dazed, as his words began to make sense. A siren changeling. My voice had magic. A different sort of magic to the sharp, bitter metallic tang of the mages. I possessed the sort of magic that lured ogres to sleep when lullabies were sung, and mages to spill their seed when I cried out in pleasure.

Water descended from the sky in minuscule drops that mirrored the light of the waning moon. Each tiny drop was a microcosm of the universe of alternating light and shadow, of shifting energies and swirling galaxies, gleaming like diamonds at one instant and then absorbing light and color in a moment.