Mystical Novels Novels & Stories

I shivered. The next two months were called Mizzle Season— the rain never stops. Sometimes it's heavy, sometimes it's not. Like the whole sky was crying because of the burden it carried for the past months. Nimbus Red was when a big circle of red light can be seen in the firmament—covering up until where your eyes could see. It doesn't go away even the sun reigns in its glory. Keriekos believed that some sort of enchantments can be activated during this time. Well, they were all hunches. Merko had been studying it for years, tried relating the colors of the sky to some potions and to some existing events but no concrete evidences yet.

I whispered the words as I read, tracing the passage of witches long dead, their curses flung across centuries like poisoned seeds. None of it mentioned Edric’s curse…at least not directly. But they spoke of spiritual links, of burdens passed down not by blood, but by will. Of realms that existed in tandem with ours, barely a breath away. The more I read, the less the physical world felt concrete. My breath hitched as I turned another page. Then footsteps echoed down the hall. My heart slammed. I shoved the book under a loose pile of parchment just as Muzan stepped in. He looked at me, his eyes dark and unreadable. “You’re up late.”

This is a work of dark fantasy fiction and should be read with an open mind and a clear understanding of its mature and controversial themes. Happy Reading ! You can follow my F******k page, Mia X Novels, for more stories ! * * * * *

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The woman climbed a short ladder and began pulling down a few books. “These should help,” she said, setting five large, dusty tomes on a nearby table. “Sorry about the condition they’re ancient. Let me know if you need anything.” “Thank you,” Anna said as the woman walked away. Rhea and Anna sat cross-legged on the floor beside the table, surrounded by the stack of heavy books. Their covers were worn, their spines cracked, and the pages yellowed with time. Each had a unique title: 'Tales of the Mystical Creatures', 'Powers', 'Hidden Behind the Voice', and two others with faded letters too difficult to read.

The first mortal response was not worship. It was fear. Three days after the sigil awakened beneath the castle, the miracles stopped being contained to stone chambers and divine confrontations. They began leaking outward. Spontaneously. Unpredictably. And not always safely. A child in the eastern quarter cried during a nightmare— And the air around her ignited in harmless golden sparks. A priest denounced Lily during a sermon— And the candles behind him burned crimson instead of white. A blacksmith swore loyalty to the crown—

And something faintly metallic beneath it all. Blood. --- His fingers moved across worn spines until he found what he sought. Soul Vessels. Forbidden Possessions. Underworld Bindings. Kael pulled the heavy books free and placed them across a nearby table. The candles lit themselves automatically. He began reading. --- Hours passed silently. Only the sound of turning pages filled the room. Kael’s expression darkened more with every text. Some spoke of spirits entering weak bodies. Others described possession through mirrors, cursed artifacts, blood rituals.

*Axel POV* After getting over the shock of seeing my niece, we sat down to a wonderful dinner. I hadn’t had this place in forever, and forgot just how amazing it really was. When the king started to explain the plan for Mystic Shadows, I wasn’t impressed. What he described was something he should have stepped in and done long ago.

The world blurred around me, but Theo’s face was burned into my vision. The look in his eyes when I admitted I didn’t know what I wanted—it haunted me. Hurt, fury, desperation all tangled together. And worse? A hunger that mirrored Damien’s, only less controlled, less predictable. I tried to bury myself in books at the library, pretending I was invisible. Pretending the whispers weren’t still following me. But I felt it—the weight of his gaze. When I finally glanced up, there he was.

My heart gave an uneasy beat as I opened the first page. Axel’s mother’s handwriting was elegant, slanted, and careful. The opening notes talked about ancient bloodlines, rare hybrids that had been dismissed as myth because the blood had thinned over centuries. There were mentions of wolves who could bind through more than scent, witches born without covens, and children carrying two different inheritances in one body. I swallowed hard. Wow. This was a world I thought existed in fairy tales. The door opened softly. Mason stepped in with a cup of coffee. “Thought you might need this,” he said.