Merlin Witchfinder Novels & Stories

EIGHT MONTHS LATER JEFF POV These past eight months have been grueling and the most challenging I’ve ever had to deal with. No vampire attacks had happened but for some reason wolves kept coming up missing. Not just from our pack either. It was happening to packs across the country. Rumors of some turning up weeks later, only to attack their own pack as a rabid. My Beta was searching high and low for a witch that would help us. The issue was no witch wanted to help. They all refused either out of fear of the Vampire King or the fear of using black magic and losing their powers all together. I sat at my desk as I contemplated what to do next. Suddenly my wolf Alec perked up and started runnin

Mary turned to her and asked, “What is it, Meredith?” Meredith raised a large map and moved it slowly closer to Mary's face. “What’s this?” She asked. “Can’t you see the glow on the map? I found her. I found the greatest witch in the history of all witches, and she's just sitting there waiting for me to meet her,” Meredith responded. “Who are you talking about?” Mary asked, squinting her eyes. “Isn’t it obvious? It's Agnes. I found Agnes Zeros,” Meredith replied with excitement in her voice.

“You won’t lose me. Because I’ve already been there, Steve. I’ve already seen the abyss. And I chose you.” For a moment, neither spoke. Marcus shifted uncomfortably a few feet away. Weaver broke the silence with a sigh. “There is one witch. Her name is Morven. She lives in the Vale of Thorns. She was once a Seer of great renown, until she began harvesting memories from others to extend her life.” “Sounds delightful,” Marcus said dryly. “She’s powerful,” Weaver said. “And unstable. But if anyone knows how to sever a tether to the darkness… it’s her.”

Meanwhile, the other warriors secretly rejoiced at what they considered the Blood Shadow Warriors’ bad luck. Yet Merlin remained silent. He simply stared deeply at the key and ancient scroll in his hands. Beside him, Phoniex was unusually quiet too. The playful smirk she normally wore had disappeared as if she had suddenly realized something important. A Sacred Flame Pack warrior finally gathered enough courage and approached one of the silver chests nearby. Carefully observing Merlin’s earlier method, he placed a special ticket on the chest and activated it. The chest opened. Inside lay a long black broken sword engraved with strange ancient symbols.

Shadows twisted and writhed, manifesting into ethereal beings that lunged toward us, their eyes gleaming with malice. In the midst of the chaos, a figure emerged—a figure that possessed an uncanny resemblance to Isabella, but with a chilling aura of darkness that set her apart. She revealed herself to be Morgana, an ancient witch who had vowed to protect the secrets of the tapestry at any cost. "You thought you could uncover the truth and escape unscathed?" Morgana sneered, her voice dripping with venom. "You underestimate the power of the past. I will ensure that the sins committed by our ancestors haunt you for eternity."

I was about to throw the small dart with poison when I heard someone running. The werewolf kid noticed it too, making her stand up and look around. The werewolf kid slowly steps backward and runs away. I looked around to see who is the one behind it until I saw Rendall who easily found me hiding in the bushes. “R-raffi,” Rendall’s voice broke when he said my name. “Why? I was just about to kill another werewolf, Rendall.” He grabbed my arm and started walking back to the east side of the forest where I told him to find Quinn.

“Mother, please. Now you’re just being silly.” “It’s the truth! She has witch blood. Her mother was a witch. She…” “Silence,” Magnus said. He turned to Mercy. “Mercy, is this true?” he asked her. “Are you and enchantress.” Mercy lifted her chin and shook her head. “No, your highness. I am not an enchantress. I’m a wolf, through and through.” “LIAR!” Sephora hollered, but Magnus cut her off.

I have no idea what kind of magic I'll be needing, but thankfully I know someone who does. The shadows that fall across my door suddenly shift and thicken, swirling in a cloud of darkness until it takes the form of a woman, tall and shapely. Her cloak is the most defined thing I can see from the dark phantom but I know it's her. Meeting Merlin was one of the lucky breaks I got in life. Our paths crossed during the battle six years ago where I saved her from a rival pack of werewolf witch hunters that had captured her. It took twenty of those men to subdue her, and all I had to do was sneak through the camp and free her from her cage, for her to kill all of them off.

Having not like the man since he’d accused my friend Mara of being a witch and taken her away. I never saw her after that. It was safe to assume that she’d died in WitchFall. Most do. I knew. It was a massive torture chamber where witches confessed to their sins. We watched the older man coming down off the hill from his towering fortress. His powdered wig and overly elaborate cravat carefully in place. “An evil one.” My eyes narrowed. “You only say that because of his pursuit of you.” “No. There’s something wrong with him.” I insisted. “Saria, you been saying this for years.” She groaned. “He’s the most powerful man in our village and the six surrounding.”

Her breath further calmed her and for a moment her worries felt smaller, and her heart rate slowed. "Tell me what it is you think my mother forgot to inform me about William." William placed his teacup down and readjusted his potion on his armchair. It matched the one Ivy sat on. He entwined his fingers and placed his fore arms on his thighs. "You've heard about the Melas isles witch trail? The ones that ended in 1693 officially, but deeper research proves they ran until the 1700s.?"