Novel & Cerita Oblivion Schools Of Magic

we only teach you how to use magic after that I will tech you how to use weapons and skills mike:- my water magic also cover that sword novsitle:- look brother my fire sword. what happen brother velliam:- I can't use my magic here juliana:- what happen are you not feeling good teacher:- what happen are you that student with level 0. don't try I hope you can use weapon well teacher:- now students school is over now go back to your club or room novistle:- I am going to study in library velliam:- OK (then novistle go to library for studying and velliam walking around and after 1 hours he watching novistle from outside through window and then juliana notice him and walk toward him)

They stayed in the valley for three days. The elders taught Elif about the old magic, its history, its dangers, its terrible beauty. They taught her that the First Wolf had not created the world, only shaped it. They taught her that the shadow realm was not a prison but a womb, where new magic was born and old magic died. They taught her that Nisan was something entirely new, something that had never existed before, something that even the elders did not fully understand.

“Don’t you dare complete that sentence. You and I know if I wanted to take it, I would’ve done it before we walked through the portal to come back. Besides, I am not a thief.” We would see. *** “Students, welcome. We spoke about the history of Oakblood and the magical wards that protected us in the last class. This time,” Professor Ivory trailed off as she turned her hand upwards, with her palms out, and moved it in a circular motion, thrice. A spiral glowing thing appeared in the air, next to the place she had done the demonstration. It had different ancient letters inside each spiral ring. “We will be speaking about the Rune guardians.” Some students mumbled in excitement.

Chapter 59: The Bond’s Pull Third period: Supernatural Plants and Herbs with Professor Mira Thorne. The classroom smelled like damp earth and crushed sage—rows of potted nightshade, moonflower vines climbing the walls, bloodroot bulbs glowing faintly under UV lights. I sat between Elara and Liora in the back row, close enough that our thighs pressed together under the table. Elara’s hand rested on my knee—casual, grounding. Liora’s pinky hooked mine—quiet reassurance.

"The 'White Witch' and her little shadow. I heard they're letting just anyone into High Sorcery these days. Even girls who couldn't cast a basic light spell a month ago." "And I heard they're letting in anyone who can pay the tuition, Ivy." Dahlia let out a short, sharp scoff, her eyes flashing with a dangerous green light. "Even girls who have to buy their magic in a bottle." I didn't even stop. I simply brushed past Ivy, my black leather jacket catching the light. "Come on, Dahlia. The air is getting a bit thin out here. Too much pollution." I entered the hall, a marvel of levitating inkwells and self-writing chalkboards. The atmosphere here was vastly different from the Diplomacy seminar;

The scent of burnt sugar and cinnamon hangs in the air, betraying Lyric's frustration before anyone even enters the room. Her heat has receded to a dull throb after this morning's encounter with Sebastian, but the memory of his mouth between her thighs makes concentration nearly impossible. The textbook splayed open before her—Advanced Theories of Elemental Magic—might as well be written in ancient runes for all she's absorbing. Outside, twilight paints Silverpoint's campus in shades of lavender and gold. Students drift across the quad in small clusters, their laughter floating up through the half-open window. Lyric's fingernails tap an anxious rhythm against the page as she reads the same p

The morning light seeped slowly through the dense canopy above, casting long shadows across the uneven ground of the Temple of Origin. The ancient stones, cracked and worn by centuries of forgotten power, glimmered faintly under the glow of dawn. Ava Oakley stood at the temple's edge, her breath rising in misty clouds as she stared down at the pulsing crystal embedded in the earth — the very heart of the ley lines, the source of all magic in their world.

He respectfully clasped his hands and bowed slightly before speaking, “Honored elders, the teleportation array is an ancient achievement, discovered by Blood Moon’s warriors during an expedition to the eternal snow-covered mountains of Arvani.” He paused briefly, gesturing toward the map and ancient symbols on the parchment, “We believe that area was once home to a lost civilization. Among the relics left behind, we found designs for this array.” The scholar's eyes gleamed with excitement as he spoke of ancient knowledge, his voice steady as he continued, “In essence, the teleportation array is a magical formation capable of folding space, creating a temporary passage between two distant poi

Lerder added, “Make strength something more than just dominance. Let it be kindness. Restraint. Wisdom.” The room fell quiet. And then the oldest Mournfang, a scarred wolf named Varn, bowed his head. “Then let this be our vow. For the next generation.” The School of Flame and Moon. By moon’s rise, Lyra stood with Elara at the edge of the Weeping Grove, where memory still hung heavy like incense. “We could teach here,” Lyra said. “Build a school between the old magic and the new.” “A school?” Elara laughed softly. “Like pupils and books?”

She squeezed his hand, offering a silent promise that no matter what happened, they would face it together. The ground beneath them trembled, a low hum that seemed to rise from the depths of the earth itself. Olivia felt it in her bones—an unmistakable sign that the abyss was waking. It was time. Taking a deep breath, Olivia closed her eyes and began to chant the ancient words from the scroll, her voice steady despite the growing sense of dread that gnawed at her. The power in the room shifted, swirling around her like a storm. Her magic flared to life, coursing through her veins, a torrent of energy that she had learned to control, yet never fully understood.