Oblivion Schools Of Magic Novels & Stories

But lucky for them, everyone remained silent, albeit annoyed at her presence. "We can't wait for the scouts to come back just to tell us that Damion has moved on," Selene said, looking at me earnestly. I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow. "What do you suggest we do then?" I asked inquisitively. She gave me a coy smile. "A little bit of magic." Shortly after, Selene had gathered in front of her some things she would need to do her magic. We all watched with curiosity as she placed the items on my desk. There was a tall white candle and two polished obsidian stones.

The charm is often referred to as the Obliviate spell, which is a powerful and complex magical incantation that can alter a person's memory. The spell in the world of witchcraft and wizardry and is known for its powerful memory-altering effects. To perform the Obliviate spell, a witch or wizard must have a thorough understanding of human memory and how it works. The spell requires a significant amount of magical power and concentration, as well as precise control over the wand movements and incantation. The caster must be able to visualize the specific memory they wish to remove from the target's mind and then focus their magical energy on that memory.

“They’d head straight back to where they came from because Evan put the barrier up. You’ll need to tell them to leave the arbour alone for now and focus on the main house. Evan and I can focus on the greenhouse, while Larin and Hugo deal with the remaining Fear Mongers. Then after that, I say you and Larin go hunt up those other mirror guardians and get some answers. Just don’t forget, if Evan has his grimoire, then you need to find yours. I think Larin says he left it on the other side of the portal.” “That’s if I can cast magic at all.” Gemma didn’t know how to explain it. “I couldn’t understand what is in the grimoire we have now. How am I supposed to understand the other one?” “That’s si

“The master mage’s studies on the level below, on the ground floor are the classrooms and the dining hall. The library is below, as are the kitchens and the washrooms.” “Oh, good,” Rivyn said, predictably. “I like to take an evening bath.” “There are other buildings,” the boy continued. “Student and servant accommodation, meeting halls, etc. If you wander into them, just go back the way you came, or you will get lost. There’s a maze of ways through and between.”

They have already gotten accustomed to this new world and couldn’t think of leaving this place yet. “ One more thing. You cannot say to another soul about the things that I told you. As peaceful as this school may look like there are actually dark forces lurking inside this academy. What you have done is actually a glitch in this academy's system. There are many ways to receive blessings. But with this piece of information, the enemies of this academy will find you and would do everything to extract the ways to trigger the system without getting through the trials. You can’t fight them yet, what you need is time, learn as fast as you can, grow stronger but lay low.” Lark said then he made a

He didn’t smile. “Open your texts. Page three. We begin now.” Chairs scraped. Books opened. My hands trembled slightly as I flipped the page, forcing myself to breathe evenly. He hadn’t even looked at me. Good. The lesson moved fast. Faster than I expected. He spoke of ley lines and binding circles, of blood sacrifice and runic etchings that predated even the old kingdoms. His voice didn’t rise or fall—it was steady, like a river running deep and cold.

I sneer, dragging her back to Anastasia and march right back into the fracas of magic. Magical lights of blue, green, purple, yellow, red, gold splash across the sky. It's actually really pretty. It's funny because the black magic coming from the Abyss isn't even half as powerful as ours is. They don't actually know how to use offensive magic. All they are able to do is put up weak shields that crumble moments later. I'd laugh... but now's not the time.

Malick’s POV The smell of sulfur and burnt cinnamon clung to the vaulted classroom like a curse that wouldn’t lift. The air hung thick, weighed down by chalk dust, residual magic, and the faint tang of sweat from long hours of practice. Malick leaned over the blackened cauldron, watching the slick purple liquid churn lazily. Potioncraft had never held his attention—too precise, too reliant on patience. Today, though, it wasn’t the brew that had him distracted.

Basic Classes: Magical Philosophy — How to think like a powerful being. Forbidden History — Secrets no one else knows. Ritual Architecture — How to build magic spaces. Ethics & Corruption — What happens when you go too far. Bloodfire Combat & Binding — Duels, Contracts, loyalty, and power. The Art of Influence — Magic through words, emotions, or seduction. Each title stirred nostalgia in me. I felt like I knew them by heart. Beneath those, a smaller note had been scrawled in elegant script, likely Mistress Lune’s:

I replied. "How many supernatural species are there?" I asked. "Witches, genetically modified humans (GMH), Werewolfs, werewolves—that's all there is for now. Holy water, seawater, sunlight, and wolfsbane Those are the weaknesses of the species as well. There are other species as well, but they either went extinct or went into different realms with time," he explained. "What is the purpose of the school, though?" I asked. "We teach young paranormals the ancient arts of magic. It's the only way we can win the war since we don't have the numbers," he said.