Nicholas Flamel Novels & Stories

“This is your home, Daniel, you don’t need permission to go anywhere.” Looking around the bottle lined shelves of the damp basement, Daniel waited for Nicholas to speak. Being a warlock, Daniel cared little about the healing magic and didn’t know much about the priceless things contained in the dark glass vials. He spent most of his days with Agamori learning the really important things and clearing the lands of marauders. As he came to Daniel’s side, Nicolas crossed his arms. “I have an important task and I can rely on no one else to do it but you.”

The chatter died. “Thank you all for coming,” he said, his voice flat, stripped of all warmth. “This gathering celebrates more than a birthday. It celebrates clarity.” Isabella smiled, stepping forward expectantly. “For years,” Nicholas continued, his eyes now fixed on a point above the crowd, “I have operated under a fundamental misconception. I built an altar to a ghost. I pledged my loyalty to a reflection.” His gaze swung to Isabella, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop. “The reflection, it turns out, was a lie. The ghost was never there at all.”

Fulfilled assignments for Floyd and his men. Regularly there were all kinds of strange men on the floor, who disappeared just as quickly as they appeared. The group they belonged to was called the Zaeafranen, which means crocus, just like the herb used in the anti-love elixir. And that was probably what Esmee had heard Omem say. It was an ancient group of dark magicians. When the gates to the pyramids of Gizeh and Stonehenge were opened through the Witte Wieven, black magic had been released, which they claimed and used.

It was no wonder why Luiz, as well as those other warlocks who come before them, had ended up bursting into flames after drinking the water whereas they remained completely fine. It seemed like the key lay in these pink flowers. Only when one drank water laced with the pink flowers would they be reduced to yellow sand and transform into a sandman! When he and Audrey checked the oasis, the flower had already dissolved into the water so it was no wonder they had been unable to find anything at all. He had finally found the cause behind the mysterious flames… But where was the Enchanter? While the group was busy trying to decide on their own, Nero walked up to the Sakura Tree and examined it cl

Amora nuzzled her dragon’s head to Nicholas until I gasped. “Wha-?” I stuttered. “Mate, Nicholas is my mate.” Nicholas purred, his dragon pushing his body tighter to Amora. “Adam is a disgraceful person,” her dragon let out a cry of defeat. It was the saddest cry, more so than any human could mate. It was full of pain and suffering. Nicholas purred louder, hushing her cries. “Enough of that,” her dragon chirped as if she had never cried at all. “We will talk more later. For now, we should celebrate.” Nicholas pushed away, hovering over Amora’s dragon as she scraped her claws against the stone, pushing away. Her dragon let out another roar as Nicholas chased after her.

Chapter 18 ~ Northern wing of the Witches' Realm ~ In the northern wing of the Witches' Realm — a fortress carved from obsidian and moonstone — a man sat alone. Silver-white hair cascaded around his shoulders like winter snow, contrasting sharply with his emerald green eyes. His beauty was ethereal, almost dangerous, the kind that made mortals forget to breathe. Nicolas He stared at the flickering candlelight, lost in thoughts that had festered through decades of forced sleep. The room around him was grand — embroidered tapestries, enchanted plants glowing faintly, and shelves of ancient spellbooks — yet the loneliness in his eyes eclipsed all the luxury.

He ended up taking one whose cover had caught his attention, purple velvet, which seemed to be Ruvyn's favourite colour. He laid down on the bed again and opened the book, it was about the most famous wizards who lived, those who made history. Like Nostradamus who used to make predictions or Rasputin who was a famous healing wizard, who used his sorcery to treat the Tsar and his wife, many times, without forgetting Nicolas Flamel who was the alchemist to succeed, in creating the philosophers stone, and the elixir of life in the 17th century. All those strange people he read about in his fantasy books like Harry Potter existed also in their world and they were somehow related to his new frien

Nicholas was pulled out of his thoughts by his lover’s voice who came to stand besides him, his entire body covered in the large cloak as he didn’t want his unique appearance to draw any unnecessary attention, but even without seeing his handsome face, Nicholas knew that his lover was giving him that sympathetic smile of his, the one he hated and loved at the same time “I mean the past.” “It is!” Nicholas’s voice sounded void and distant as he sighed out the words, his eyes looking back at the charred ruins, there was indeed nothing left of the high tower, the man in front of him sensed his agony and stepped next to him and took his hand in his, letting his warmth seep through their joined f

The flames that engulfed the cross from the ground were blood red, angry shades of orange, its only goal to destroy while his name suffered its wrath. To others it would seem morbid and grim, but to me it was beautiful. That image was a reflection of his soul. The crack, the flames, the red it was everything he thought he was but after what happened, him killing his own flesh and blood to save me, now I knew that something resplendent inside him was waiting to be set free. He just never had a reason to find the beauty he suppressed without even realizing it. “Please…hurry. I don’t know how much time we have.” nico hung up, and tossed the phone on the bed. His jaw ticked, every muscle in his

Felix replied, "Your Excellency, the real challenge is finding this particular herb. I once saw it deep in a forest, but I don't even know its name. There's nothing about it in any of the books I've read. Please give me some paper and a pen, and I'll sketch it for you." Of course, Felix wasn't dumb enough to use his soul energy or the Nine Points of Calamity to cleanse the force inside Christopher. Considering the Nine Flames were brought by the Flame Monarch and were tied to the spreading of Desolated Lands, it was highly likely the Flame Monarch was knowledgeable about soul-related energies. So, if he just went ahead and cured Christopher, he wouldn't be rewarded. Instead, he'd probably en