Rukh Magi Novels & Stories

Across the rubble-strewn wall, Varrow stepped forward through the mist. The warlord’s armour gleamed like obsidian oil, runes glowing faintly red across its black plates. The crown wrought into his helm was jagged, wrong, a set of barbs curving like broken teeth around his skull. His presence pressed against the air itself; the mist bent away from him, curling back like smoke recoiling from flame. The Guild did not move. The beasts did not move. Even the warlocks below stood still, hands half-raised, waiting.

She carefully unrolled the scroll, her eyes scanning the arcane symbols and encrypted messages. But as she translated the ancient text, a sense of foreboding settled over her. The scroll revealed a startling twist—a fragment of the dark curse responsible for the Magus's transformation was entwined with the Veritas Reliquary. To break the curse, they would not only have to find the Reliquary but also discover how to separate the dark fragment from its protective magic.

From what could be seen, one could tell that the blade rage had the upper hand. Or so they thought... Bucky Drakens was the youngest of the blade rage, fifteen and ranked seventh. He stood in his mage's robe, in his hand his mage's staff - Stormbringer. Mage's were those born with a mana core, granting them the ability to harness elements of nature. A mage staff was essential for a mage to execute his abilities and connect with his elemental force. Buck was a lightning mage. Able to tap into the mana force within him create lightning at will.

That makes me scoff. “I am used to this. I just did not imagine…” “That mages can live like this?” Moran prompts. I purse my lips and nod. We walk into the huge living room filled with all kinds of furniture. There’s a woodsy smell and gives a different vibe. I look around, letting my gaze skim over the red walls, decor mirrors hanging while another wall remains empty. Mage Rudra, a tall man with tanned skin, shoulder-length black hair and deep-set brown eyes, whose smile was mysterious and gaze intriguing. After the formal introduction, Elias takes it upon himself to become the conversation starter.

I can see broken people everywhere. Rue lights a black pillar candle, then closes her eyes. She cups her hands around the candle and whispers to herself for several moments as I finish my breakfast. Then she marks a sigil in the air over the candle, and black, smoky magic whips like a lasso around the wax. Seeing it makes me miss Sable, my best friend Ridge’s mate. She’s a hybrid shifter and witch, and she became like a little sister to me in the months before I left my pack lands. I haven’t spoken to either of them in more than two years.

“I can’t keep track of all these gawd-damned rules.” As Louis fumbled with his dice, Jon consulted his character. Crixen Runeburner, elf mage, tall and proud. He was from a noble line of adventurers and princes. Magical rings glistened on his fingers. Multi-colored robes flowed about his willowy frame. They mystically staved off attacks and turned back spells. Around his feet flowed silken boots that allowed him to run with the speed of a pony. His right hand held a mighty heft of oak, an enchanted quarterstaff of kicking-your-fucking-ass.

Especially not when he was stood with a rogue himself. "You can't exactly judge," I replied as I pointed to the guy. "He was part of Moon Shadow prior to their downfall. He just hasn't been fully accepted into the pack," Luca said. I could see his fists clenched at his side and I could hear the way in which he was controlling his breathing which only served to make me smile to myself.

Then she began to speak in Russian, and Rurik translated. "The Magician is the past, the cunning master of all he surveys." The card showed a magician in a warrior's pose, a sword in his hand, with roses and lilies all around his feet. His tunic was white with red robes, and he wore a belt that was made of an ouroboros, a snake eating its own tail. The old woman's brown eyes flashed on the serpent ring that Rurik wore. It had a green jewel in its single eye, and its mouth was consuming its own tail. The ring was stunning, and Charlotte wondered how she hadn't noticed it before. Of course, she'd been distracted by the rest of Rurik most of the time. The woman reached out and touched the serpe

Kiran asked me. “The witch that’s making these ghouls, she found me and she’s attacking soon,” I said to him. “One witch made them all?” he asked me. “She’s got at least a thousand years of magic on me,” I admitted. “What does she want?” he asked me. “To end me,” I said to him. “I doubt she’ll succeed,” Kiran said. “How can you be so sure?” I asked him. “We’ve always been touched by magic. The fact that our ancestors gave you all this magic, tells me that your soul is pure enough to win this battle. Witches never let go of their magic, even after death. Only the purest can take it for themselves,” he said to me.