Protection Witchcraft Novels & Stories

I muttered incantations under my breath, drawing on the ancient knowledge passed down through generations of witches. As I began my protection spell, a soft glow encompassed Emma's body, wrapping her in a cocoon of shimmering energy. Her features relaxed slightly as the pain eased, her breathing steadier. It wasn't a complete solution, but it was enough to give her a momentary respite. The room became peaceful, and all eyes focused on Emma's still form. Gently, we placed the relic by Emma's bedside, allowing its radiant energy to envelop her. A soft, golden light emanated from the relic, slowly spreading throughout the room. Emma's features relaxed, and her breathing steadied as the spell's

Mum wasn't the kind to go back on her words. If I was going to get rid of the bracelet, someone else had to help. “Well, if one person couldn't help me get it off, what about asking for the help of other witches, surely if they are in numbers they could pull it off.” “I strongly doubt that, witches have a code and many rules, no sorcerer will agree to cast such a spell, even if we could find one strong enough.” Another dead end, I wondered.

Nyxara doesn’t shift under the attention. Doesn’t react. Doesn’t give them anything. She simply sits there, composed, as if she didn’t just step into something they’re still unsure about. “In the city,” she continues, her tone even, “I crossed paths with witches. Not often. But enough to hear what they were working on.” The witches at the table lean forward slightly. Interested. Careful. “What kind of work?” one asks. “Protection,” she replies. “Layered barriers. Reinforcement techniques that don’t rely solely on physical anchors.”

"They want to use her as their sacrifice?!" Harriet nodded. "I believe so… The witch who told me about this spell used to be one of the witches who worked for the coven. I remembered that there was something unique about that sacrifice ritual, but I couldn't recall what was it. Since those books belonged to one of the coven witches, I thought I could find something about that protection spell, and I did," she explained, pointing at the drawing beneath the ancient text describing the moon and the bleeding wolf.

The Broker's reach was long, and his methods more sophisticated than anything we'd encountered before. "We need to be careful," I warned, my voice low and serious. "Whatever The Broker has done to these wolves, it's not just science or just magic. It's both. And that makes it incredibly dangerous." I began packaging the ground herbs into small sachets, weaving protection spells into each knot as I tied them. "These are protection charms - not much, but every little bit helps. Make sure everyone carries one."

Her voice was like gravel and smoke. "The poison isn't working." A long pause. "Impossible. That combination would kill any human within days." "Well, it's not working on this one. She's drinking it every morning like it's some kind of health tonic." "Describe her condition." "She's glowing. Glowing with health. If anything, she looks better than when I started." Another pause, longer this time. When the witch spoke again, her voice carried a note of something that might have been fear. "There are protections," she said slowly. "Old magic. The kind that binds itself to bloodlines."

The feeling was like a soft hum that vibrated up through my knees and spine. I never thought I would pull this off, but now knowing what I was, I somewhat understood why I did. The Sanctuary was complete, and the witches would have an anchor and safe haven. I’ve spent all day putting every protection spell I could find that wouldn’t counteract the other over it. The last spell I completed was an ancient one. One that was only performed by a High Priestess. I thanked every element that assisted me and began to collect what was left over to discard when the comfort Sister Ester’s emotions flowed through me.

I followed her. The farther we went, the thicker the trees grew. The sky turned shadowy, not from the hour, but from mist curling among the branches. I kept looking back over my shoulder, but Orion was already gone. "They actually deceived us," I whispered. "Witches have a tendency to do that," said the witch. "But not always cruelty. Sometimes it is protection." "How is binding us from ever harming a witch protection?" "Because you are both explosive. And the coven is aware of it. They required assurance."

the witch shrugged her shoulders, sitting down right on the floor in front of us, “they all live off the negative energies they absorb into themselves. Therefore, the easiest way for the parasite to get enough is to return you to the worst day of your life and arrange an emotional swing in which you will experience the whole spectrum of the strongest emotions from horror to hope, despair and fear. And your death for him is like a cherry on a cake. Delicious. I grimaced. I never liked cherries, and now I think I understand why. - How to get rid of it? - Stas clarified with the witch, and I all turned aloud, hoping that the solution to this problem would not be very protracted. - I don't know,

There was a practical wariness that paired with the awe. Elder Soraya said, "Secrecy is precious. But secrecy alone will not protect her." She turned to the circle of witches. "We should weave a safeguard around the child, a bond of protection attuned to a witch-lineage that will grow with the child. Not a ward built like a fence, but like a layered skin — adaptive, breathing."