Mirror Of Witch Novels & Stories

I spat on his overcoat. “Do you see!” Mathis turned and gestured to the spittle seeping down his shirt. “She’s still possessed by the witch. She told me this one commands her.” He turned on Udora. “What?” Udora blinked in horror. “But I’m not a witch! I don’t command Saria. If anything, she tells me about!” "It’s true!" I cried. Trying to defend her. Mathis gave a whistle that echoed through the corridors and foyer of WitchFall.

*(Terjemah : Translation: I can fly to the sky Will never stay Until I passed out from exhaustion Whatever the reason Whatever the reason I need courage now (Gaho - Start)) He did not realize that what he sings now, will come true in the future. In the hidden world. "Sir! Sir! Sir!" "What is wrong?" the voice seemed lazy with a million charms. "Blue cube witch," "Blue cube witch why?" now the person's voice was getting impatient. "The light from the blue cube emits light," Dubak! "What!" now the leader was getting tense, even the handle of the throne crumbled to powder. The fortune teller was suddenly shocked and scared, afraid that his head would fly. "Which cube witch is glowing again!"

No one dared to pay attention to them as they knew they would suffer more, now that they are rogues. "Witch..." "She's a rogue and a witch..." "Rip out her heart..." Alpha Bastion swallowed thickly, his eyes grew large as he was lost in Mira's glowing eyes and when she focused her attention on the mimicking crowd, the knife embedded in the flames soured through the air towards them, instantly hushing them. "I am not a witch!" Mira cried out. "I am not your average wolf either!" Tears pricked her eyes as she could sense the unwelcoming sensations of rejection all over again.

Tell who you are. The footsteps were slow and deliberate. Then they stopped. There was no sound until I turned. ‘Who are you?’ I echoed again. ‘We have net before.’ She paused and looked at me. I stared back and didn’t say a word. My wolf growled within me, waiting for a go-ahead from me to strike. ‘I am Miranda, the last of the witches of the royal coven.’ ‘Are they not supposed to be extinct?’ ‘We are. But a witch caused me to sleep for a hundred years and I had only recently awoken.’

I reply. Miranda starts pacing and looks like she is arguing with herself. I can tell she is conflicted and doesn’t want to reveal who she is, but we need to be honest in our relationship. I need to know who she is. Particularly if we are going to spend the rest of our lives together. “I am not at liberty to say what I do,” she starts with me ready to jump in and argue. Miranda holds up her hand, “Wait, I am not at liberty to tell you everything. What I can tell you is I am a warrior. So along with being a witch, I can also fight to protect myself and others. I wasn’t afraid when I went to Lily’s room. I have good instincts and I can fight, but I also have stronger powers than the a

Greg observed her, waiting. To his utter shock, he noticed that the mirror on the wall had started to shine. Camille turned around, and it looked like she was surprised by that, too, as her face became paler. She faced the mirror and waited. After what felt like ages, there was an image of the woman on the glass. But it was not Camille's reflection. The woman in the mirror was gorgeous, with jet-black hair and a cold, stern look. Greg could not believe his own eyes when he recognized her. That was a Mother, the highest witch from the coven he had visited recently. He focused on hearing what the women could talk about.

As we hung up, I then put a call into my dear friend, and witch, Miranda. Miranda was a childhood friend of mine. She is a witch with various powers that exceed the traditional witches doing spells. She can identify if magic has been used in a situation, what spells or potions might have been used and a bunch of other things, even I can’t fully understand. I needed to talk to her about what was going on and get her here as fast as possible.

Together, we stepped into the Temple of the Veil. It was darker than night inside, despite the glowing runes etched along the walls. The air shimmered with ancient magic, thick with memory. The walls trembled, whispering names I didn’t recognize—wolves, witches, gods long gone. And then we saw them. Seven women in black robes, faces veiled in silver masks. At the center of their circle, a stone altar. Upon it—a crystal mirror, swirling with smoke and fire. The Mirror Gate. One of the witches turned. Slowly. And when her mask lifted—

The witch beside her said and led her to the center of the hall where a large purple rimmed mirror stood and beside it, three witches, also wearing identical cloaks. "Come closer, Kyra." One of them said and Kyra, gulped, slowly approached the mirror that was even taller than her and rested on a stand. "Closer." Another said and Kyra walked until she was standing in front of the mirror. Her reflection stared back at her and she shivered because she knew this was no ordinary mirror. She could feel the energy radiating around it and from it. She didn't realize when the witch who had brought her here walked away to stand on a step but she saw when the remaining three witches stood a few feet be

“It’s the same speech every time you get here, which to be honest bores me to death.” What is she talking about? Am I asleep and dreaming? Everything seems so vivid, so real. “I am trapped in this place since one thousand years ago, the only ones that can find it are those of witch blood that mean no harm.” “I am not-“ “I am not a witch.” She mimics me, rolling her eyes in annoyance. “Same drill every single time, girl, I am growing tired of this. You go with ‘I am not a witch!’. I go with ‘Then how did you find this place?’, you then go ‘I don’t know.’. After that I recommend that you just leave, you go to the door, and on your way out, you stumble upon the magic mirror and see yourself wit