Oblivion Mage Stone Novels & Stories

That’s my job! “Demons.” I sighed. “They are what Mages become when they lose control. If your soul jewel, or what some Mages call a stone or crystal, shatters, the only person that can bring you back is Eldon. As you saw today, he can revive a soul and make that Mage live again. The trade off is you lose a portion of your overall magic. Once your magic is completely gone, your time will be up and there will not be another revival.” I explained grabbing the small bottle of wine from between us. I pulled the cork out of the bottle and swung it back hoping that this would calm my rampant nerves. Oh yes! I need this so much right now.

he said, his voice distorted but clear. The scarred mage stepped closer, her eyes narrowing as they fixed on the tortoise symbol etched into my palm. “Interesting,” she murmured. “What does it mean?” I asked, my voice trembling slightly. Her expression gave nothing away. “It means you have much to explain. But that’s for later.” She turned to the others. “She’s clean. Let her through.” “What about Blooby?” I asked, clutching the small mechanical knight to my chest. The mage’s gaze softened, if only slightly. “He can come—for now.” Relief flooded through me as the gleaming surface of the Border parted, allowing us entry.

Zeth commanded. Two heavy-armored guards walked into the dim stone cell, carrying a small, iron-bound chest. They placed it on the stone table beside my chains and unlocked the heavy brass latch. When the lid creaked open, a dark, suffocating wave of magic flooded the room. The air instantly smelled like ozone, ash, and ancient rot. Inside the chest lay a jagged, pitch-black obsidian stone. It buzzed with a sickening violet light, pulsing like a dark, twisted heart.

Underneath, his skin was pink and warm. "You're using me," I whispered. My voice trembled with hate. "You chose me because my magic can heal you. You don't want a wife. You want a doctor." “I want a cure,” he corrected. “My kingdom is dying because I am turning into a statue. The Umbra-Knights are at the gates. If I become stone, everyone dies. Including your brother.” He walked to the desk and picked up a sharp silver dagger. He held it out to me, handle first.

The title read : -The History That Has Been Obliterated- Mages are often considered to be wizards who have shifted to practise dark magic. They are considered evil, pawns of the devil. They are feared and looked down upon. Their names are not taken, they are people who can control the elements of nature. They wield powers which a normal wizard cannot. Yes, we are wizards but earlier, a Mage was looked upon with reverence and given equal respect like any other Supernatural creature.

Groaning, he turned to grab his quill again and aimed to finish the task sooner, as his curiosity grew with each tick of the clock. Smoke rushed out from the mouth of the guards, escaping like vine tendrils while she laughed wickedly. The white fox strutted behind her back as she inhaled the smoke, absorbing the magic that she got from sucking out the life force from the three men guarding her orb crystal—three men that was once alive and now dead. "Can you feel it Olivia?," she exclaimed, eyes wide as she stared into nothingness, completely lost with the extreme dark pleasure she got from the dead.

In that moment, Dola found the medillion around her neck burning green, sprouting cracks throughout her chest. “You……….vile traitor” Dola yelled as she stormed at the treacherous fae. “Expandit quamvis per eam corpus.” The mage chanted. The cracks spread throughout Dola’s body, pouring green plasma from her and causing her to fall to the ground. Foolish Dola, I gave you a fake medillion when you sent your brother away. The real medillion of day is here.” The mage held the second stone in his hand apart from the other one.

Larger stones followed, fist-sized chunks of granite and smooth river rocks, hovering in a slow, chaotic orbit around her. Elara’s magic—wild, forbidden, surged in response to her anguish. The stones spun faster, glinting in the fading light, forming a jagged halo that pulsed with her grief. A breeze stirred, carrying the faint hum of her power, a sound like distant thunder trapped in a bottle.

[MAGNUS] The dilapidated entrance to the prison dungeon looms before me, watching with disappointment. Its stones, worn and crumbling from decades of neglect, seem to whisper ancient curses as I approach. The stone stairs crumble beneath my weight, forcing me to leap and catch the edge before the entire structure collapses into the void below. Gladly, prior to her disappearance, Morgana was cunning enough to craft a concealed entrance, imbued with dark magic. Now with her amulet, I can use it to open and close the entrance.

he spoke with a voice laced with reverence, "I have seen a vision. The magic stone, while hidden from the imposter, possesses a dormant power. It has the ability to bestow a boon upon our pack, a gift that can strengthen us against any threat that looms in the shadows." His words hung in the air, the weight of their significance sinking into our consciousness. We exchanged a knowing glance, understanding the magnitude of this revelation. The magic stone was not only a defensive talisman but also a wellspring of untapped potential. Together with the sage, we delved deeper into the lore of the magic stone. We studied ancient texts, deciphered cryptic passages, and sought the wisdom of our ance