Midnight Sorceress Novels & Stories

Maybe those elemental sorcerers would hunt me eventually. I reached for an article from the Sorcerer Council—a thick journal full of stiff formal language, but one line made my breath hitch: Some level 8 Hydros sorcerers can create total concealment mist capable of masking footsteps, aura signatures, and even heartbeat. That was… exactly like Morpheus. His disguise spell when we arrived at the pack house had made us completely undetectable—even to the wolves. I stretched back in the chair, picking up the tea Dalila had brought fifteen minutes ago. My gaze fell to old tabloids and newspapers spread across the table.

She had become a druid sorceress. The sound of the heels, of her black leather boots, fell rhythmically as Clarice paced back and forth in front of the fireplace, a book in hand. Occasionally pulling a quill from behind her ear to take notes or pushing her unkempt hair back from falling in her face, she often muttered quietly to herself as she sort out her thoughts. It was near dusk on Samhain Day. She had everything she needed to bring her lover back to life.

They are just a tool, a consumable that can be used and destroyed. Mida entered the room with a smile and carefully looked at the sleeping young people, a little longer her gaze lingered on the black-haired guy. She even came closer, passed her hand over him. Her charms enveloped his body securely, breathing was even and deep. The sorceress opened his cloak, touched his chest, listened to the measured heartbeat. The magic reached out deeper, almost squeezing his heart into a vise, and suddenly recoiled with a hiss. An icy lightning dug into her palm, dug deep and almost pierced her arm through and through.

This wasn't the time for Caleb to stall. "The book of shadows. Luna...she recited an incantation and disappeared instantly",Caleb finished lamely. Henrietta gasped. The book of shadows belonged to the last Great Sorceress, Annabelle Hale. It contained powerful dark magic and had been sealed close by Annabelle before the annihilation of the Sorcerers. Only a powerful Sorcerer or Sorceress could open the book of shadows and yet, Layla did. This only proved Layla was indeed a Sorceress, and a powerful one at that.

I must end it soon. Sara prepared multiple spells as she advanced forward. Her slashes were imbued in white light of the Holy element. She figured out that Midnight’s suit was made from black slime, a creature that had a high concentration of dark magic. Aside from that, Sara also casted ice and lightning elemental spells to deal additional damage and throw Midnight off. Midnight was supporting himself with similar elemental spells that countered some of Sara’s attacks. The swords in his hands were parrying Sara’s sword, but despite having an extra sword, Midnight was still getting sliced up.

A round table sat at the center, cluttered with cards and strange artifacts. Two chairs faced each other, giving the room an air of ritual or prophecy. The atmosphere was intriguing and unsettling—a world between reality and the unknown. Mom sat in the chair on the left. “As most witches do,” she began, “I was gifted with the ability to communicate with the paranormal... and with the multiverse.” I looked at her, confused. She saw the look and smiled gently. “To make it easier to understand—I can teleport my ancestral body into another realm without moving my physical one. In that state, I can influence events happening in both spiritual and physical dimensions. That’s what makes me a Sesame

The villain will surely go mad seeing her body. [This blind date of hers is quite good-looking, too. No wonder the villain's been jealous for so long.] [Why are there so many people siding with the villain? How disgusting! She deserves her death! I really want to see the hero taking the villain down!] When I woke up once more, it was back to midnight again. The moonlight shone dimly into the lounge as my hand was on the window latch, about to open the window. [Don't open the window! There's no cat outside! It's a serial killer!]

Like on the nights that my mother would tell us the fairy tales of King Oran while we sat at home on a winter night drinking cider near the fire. I turn around and see the most beautiful female I have ever seen. She has dark hair swept to the side leaving one side cut short to the scalp, a brown, black color that looks like midnight in the forest. She is tall for a female and moves with the grace of a dancer. She has a tan glow to her skin, from her rolled up sleeves I can tell she is lean muscle, maybe that grace is more a fighter’s grace than a dancer. But her face, that same tan glow makes my breath halt in my throat. Her eyes are the most beautiful mossy green and almond shaped. They are

“Names, names, always so eager for names. Fine. I am the Healer. The Watcher. The All-Knowing One.” Then she turns to face me fully, her silver eyes reflecting light like a mirror’s edge. Realization hits me. I know her name even before she says it. “I am the Sorceress of the South.” My breath stills. The Sorceress. The one I had been searching for. The one said to live in shadows and draped in mystery. It is she. The straw door creaks before I can say anything and a small head pokes through. A young girl, no older than ten with freckles and carrot-colored hair blinks at me with eyes too wide for her face.

Stephan stood there, chest heaving, his father’s heart still in his fist. But there was no time to breathe. The Sorceress’s voice rose like a blade through the night. “No!” she shrieked, her eyes wild. She began to chant faster, louder, the symbols carved into the earth burning bright with crimson light. The fire around us roared higher. Brooks screamed. Her body arched against the altar, chains rattling as if alive. Her eyes snapped open, glowing pure blue… like mine, but this time, no pupils, no whites, just light, and then she was levitating, lifted into the air as if the night itself had claimed her.