Piltie Arcane Novels & Stories

Same thrum of power beneath my skin. “The Drakarae Clan,” she said. “Arcane dragons. They didn’t fight for territory like the others did. Preservation of magic. Seers, scholars, keepers of things better left forgotten. This symbol…” she trailed off, eyes on the illustration. “It’s one of their oldest. A pact rune. Their last-ditch attempt to keep a tether to other supernatural bloodlines once they knew they were going extinct.” I swallowed, my throat dry. “A pact with who?”

Just as Lucifer was going to kill the evil man, Max shouted. Hearing Max's voice, Lucifer immediately cancelled his attack and activated "ARCANE SHIELD" as a barrage of attack's came from the snake. Arcane Shield (Rare) (Defensive Spell) Lvl.2 (can be maxed at Lvl.5) DETAILS: Increases DEF by 35% and MANA regeneration increases by 20%,can't shield you against angry Aunties though…. He heh..."TIME FOR YOUR DOOM" said the nuisance of evil as he prepared to use "TRIGONAL FLAME"...

River snakes an arm around her shoulders and bumps her playfully with his hip. “You would blend in better if you didn’t look like a rainbow exploded,” he grins, “what’s with you and tie-dye anyway?” I can see my mate fighting a smile and losing the battle, “Shut it. It’s a phase I’m going through. What’s with you and having hair like a mermaid anyway?” He laughs, “Touché. Luna Tawny, this brat here is Sloane. And that tall, gentlemen is Alpha Orion.”

So I left it, settling on exploring my new home instead. Today I found myself in a cosy study, still a considerably large room, but smaller than most that I had come across. It reminded me of Lilith’s living room, dark red wood seemed to domineer the room in here. A large inglenook fireplace flanked by a large suit of armour on each side. Over the mantel was a battered shield that had seen better days and two swords, mostly likely longer that I was, crossed at the back of it. A coat of arms could be made out under the battered metal, to me in looked like a half goat half man creature, holding a large raven in one hand and a snake in the other. I assumed it must belong to the Caine family.

“We will accept the spirit, Ditiori and the soul, Maga…Arcani spiritus, Ditiori et anima, Maga, accipient…Become the scroll of entrapping spirits…Erit magicae captandi spirituum.” The glooms swathed the lovers in repose. A gasp and sigh were heard. “Maga and Helia, I love you.” Was it Maga and Ditiori’s last breaths? Black dusts and shadows warped unto the scroll in the goat-head servant‘s hands. Maga and Ditiori laid no more on the frigid floor. They had left their baby sleeping peacefully, wrapped in their velour cloak. The incantation written in the arcane scroll had become red like it was written in blood with an image of a lily of the valley and grain had intertwined.

Kade, Rian, Seraphine, and Sorrel are in the center of the group. Selene? She drifted wherever she pleased. Rian whispered, “I really don’t like that the walls are breathing.” “They’re not breathing,” Kade muttered. “They’re pulsing with layered luminous rings bound to an ancient reality spine.” Rian gulped. “That somehow sounds worse.” The tunnel spiraled downward, carved from black stone veined with faint blue patterns. At regular intervals, circular nodes glowed in the ceiling—Arcana sealing glyphs that had clearly been overwritten.

“You don’t have to worry about that, Arabel. It’s my duty as a leader to protect my pack, including you. Trust me.” “But,” Arabel said in a desperate voice. “Don’t worry, I have a plan!” *** JONEA RAWLING After returning to the blue sapphire, I tried hard to forget everything that happened in the land of cats. I’m finishing a painting ordered from one of Daran’s acquaintances. “A few shades of red and it’ll be done soon.” While painting, I also added the magic runes that Daran taught me. My painting was not ordinary, but a rune hidden behind the picture. These runes neutralize black magic and cure the person who ordered the painting.

Her fingers slipped under his shirt, tracing the firm lines of his chest… … After Homer, Landon, and Aria finished their breakfast the next morning, they piled into a car headed for Mount Southbore. Autumn came early to these mountains. Frost-tinged winds swept through endless stretches of crimson maples, painting the rolling peaks like a canvas splashed with rich, bold colors. The mountain road wound upward like a ribbon, its end lost somewhere in the misty green depths above. That was where the Conclave of the Arcane would be held. A black Bentley rolled to a smooth stop in a wide plaza. The door swung open, and out stepped Homer in arcane robes. His eyes were bright as stars, and his long

Looking at the heavenly general's dead body on the ground, Philip did not know what to say. After hearing the heavenly general’s words, Conlay's face changed drastically. “The Arcane Ocean?! I’ve heard about that place from my teacher. It’s rumored to be the cemetery of the mighty beings! “According to legend, it’s good enough if one out of ten mighty beings can walk out alive once they enter.” Philip frowned. No wonder the heavenly general said he could not guarantee that Philip could walk out alive.

Amaris took Amethyst hand as she took Dailon's hand. Once everyone was holding a hand, Dailon spoke up. "What now?" "We summon our libraries, close your eyes and think about it, once you've got the imagine whisper Cicilune cumoratus apperiaous, it's Pnevum my ancient language, it's quite handy for summoning a lot of things," Marcella told them. They all closed their eyes thinking about their secret libraries, "Cicilune cumoratus apperiaous." They all whispered at the same time, gasps of shocked escaped them as they felt a whip of dark magic coming from Adrian.