Mirror Of Witch Novels & Stories

"It's your promise, Sevina... You must never break it." The words from the late Queen hovered in her head as Queen Sevina mused about her decisions. She had given her word to the previous King and Queen and it was a rule among the witches to always live up to their promise. If she did one thing that would betray them, she would lose her immortality and her freedom... she would be sent back to Mysticia and will no longer be given the chance to see the humans again. It was one thing she didn't want to ever happen, and that was why she took the risk and agreed to everything.

"Yes, the people and villagers in the South had been acting very odd. What should I do about this, my lord?" "Send the report back to the church, it is not our work to deal with humans unless they dare to show their nose to our land. But find more about the faceless, their movement is getting very intriguing." Mike replied briefly, looked down to notice Ariana eyes under the eyelids moving lively. He wondered for a moment what kind of dream she was having as her lips sounded she was munching unto something. "I understand," She paused for a moment. "Also, my lord the mermaids in the Mirror Sea said that the lord of the vampires had been making a move." Claudia continued her report when sudden

Witch! ***

she smiles. “Shrinking logs is complicated, but this…” I say, waving my slightly trembling hands around the hut, “... this isn’t complicated?” “I’m a Venusian Witch,” she says as if that ought to explain everything. I wait, too befuddled to make a smart comment. “It’s the one bit of my magic honed to perfection. I can turn any space beautiful, even when I’m at my weakest. It’s pretty much the only kind of magic I’m allowed to perform.”

Destiny works in strange ways, the witches and the wolves have been enemies for a long time, neither cross each other's boundaries and it is highly forbidden to ever mate with each other. Over the years, witches have been mated to wolves, but once the council finds out, they cast a spell to sever the bond immediately. The spell works, but the victim's life changes completely and he or she becomes an outcast, the spell also weakens his or her original powers causing such a person to become weak.

Hecate waved her hand through the mirror, dissipating it into a fog. "You mean Karmina. From my understanding, she has started making some movement about four years ago." Willow mentioned as she recalled the information Miss J shared with her. Karmina had been recruiting Rogues from different Supernatual groups, Witches especially. She had made a scene in the Werewolf community, but as to why, Miss J hadn't told her. Hecate nodded along as if reading her thoughts.

“I’ll open the path. But if either of you betray me—” The witch’s laugh was low and dry. “Everyone betrays. The clever ones wait until the end.” Mira placed her hand over both of theirs. Her smile was sharp, confident. “Then let us betray Lucian together.” The swamp answered. A thin blue-green flame sparked on the black water, rising and twisting like a lantern without a wick. Marshfire. It flared, steady and bright, then sank back beneath the surface, leaving only ripples in its wake.

They’re toxic and beautiful. A girl in the village touches one and slips into a coma. Others follow. The villagers riot. They come for Mira at night, torches in hand. But before they reach her door, the earth shakes. The river rises. The village drowns in mist. And from the fog, Mira emerges, eyes glowing faint silver — her voice calm: "This is not your river anymore." The Witch’s Game The River Witch visits Mira again — not in dreams, but in her mirror.

They drooped like soldiers cut down mid-battle, weary, beaten. Yet— Even in their despair, she saw resilience. The branches did not fall. The trunks still stood, cracked but unbroken. A stubborn will to live lingered in every trembling leaf. Mirra’s breath steadied. That will was hers too. She was no stranger to loss. She had buried lovers, family, elders beneath the roots they had served in life. She knew grief. But she also knew fury. And fury was fuel. Her hands curled into fists. “I am Mirra,” she whispered fiercely, voice low but carrying. “I am Forest Witch. I am yours.”

“She's just a lowly bed warmer. His toy “ She let out a dramatic sigh, pressing a hand to her chest like a swooning actress. Three days ago, she had made a desperate move—slipping past Arcadia’s borders, cloak drawn tight, hood pulled low, to meet someone no Arcadian would dare approach. A witch. Forbidden. Dangerous. Powerful. The witch’s tent smelled of old magic and wild herbs. Her eyes were ancient. Her skin? Smooth as porcelain. Her silver hair shimmered down to her knees. “What brings you crawling back, warrior?” the witch asked with a smile that knew too much. Mira sat cross-legged without waiting for permission, her voice a whisper. “I need your help, wise one. It’s the Prince.” Befo