Sorcerer Table Novels & Stories

His voice was low, calm, a whisper that scratched against my bones. “Don’t bother,” the man said. His eyes were sharp, his smile thin. “Your strength is bound. Your Alpha blood, your wolf… all of it is held down.” I froze. A sorcerer. I hadn’t seen one before, but I knew what they were. Dangerous. Ruthless. Men who twisted power into chains invisible and unbreakable.

the sorcerer called and pulled me from my thoughts. All of us looked at him, “I think we have a bigger problem.” Tension became heavier in the small room. Soren looked more distressed. He was trembling that Veronica had to put her arm around him, caressing his shoulder in an attempt to calm him down. “I can’t retrieve his memories,” the sorcerer said after a moment. “What?” I raised my brow, “What do you mean you can’t?” “He has none,” he replies. I frowned, “That is not possible.”

The place reeked of dark sorcery, I could even scent the number of souls sacrificed in this very same room. Getting bored with the amount of filth all over the place, my eyes finally traveled to the centre of the shrine where a hag masquerading as a young slender woman with seemingly flawless light-brown skin and a pretty face angrily stood, forcefully rooted to the ground. Right before her was a large table, full of her revolting magical ingredients and spell books—one, in particular, a bit larger than the rest, opened in the middle beside a burning candle, a small-looking bowl, and a pig’s skull. Her imp was back by her side, standing stationary at the furthest side of the table, absently

‘I am supported by higher realms. Indeed, she is. His eyes fell on the dirt that seemed closer to him than she was, wanting so desperately to scream in frustration, yet even opening his mouth is a function stolen from him. “Soren Sterling Stuart—strongest mage on the Wizards’ Tower, Lord of the House of Sorcery, husband of Clara Mair, and traitor of the realms,” she spoke, “that is not as honorable of a title to add, is it not?”

We raised our hands high, channeling our magic into a single, concentrated beam of light aimed directly at the sorceress. "Now!" I shouted, releasing our combined magic. The beam shot forth, a brilliant arc of light that cut through the darkness like a beacon. The sorceress's eyes widened in shock as our magic struck her, and for a brief moment, the chaos around us seemed to pause. But just as victory seemed within reach, Baddy reared back, unleashing a torrent of dark energy in a desperate attempt to shield the sorceress. The collision of our magic and his darkness was catastrophic, sending shockwaves rippling through the battlefield.

Taylor, determined to strip me down to my last penny, squared her shoulders and began shaking the dice cup again. She even stood up, planted one foot on the table, closed her eyes, muttering some words while her hands flailed around. “Open!” We all looked at her dice cup. Three sixes and two fives—twenty-eight points! In all the previous rounds, no matter how I rolled, my highest was twenty-two. Even so, Taylor put on a fake disappointed face. “Oh no, only three sixes? I clearly asked the spirits for five. Looks like this time I’m going to lose.”

In order to avoid head flying out without veins attached to it a sorcerer must practice well also he has to make sure to eat fresh meat of a powerful man every 29 days for 7 times in a row to complete his ritual and practice… Once that happens, he becomes inevitable… not just he can fly without vein hanging out but he can even survive in sunlight… Thankfully this wasn’t the situation with sorcerer Ken, I can see he hasn’t completed his ritual and was still in practice…. ‘AAAAAAAAAARggggggggggggggggggggggg………………………….’ Sorcerer Ken growled angrily and marched towards us….. , his eyes had turned yellow meaning that he was under effect of penanggalan curse and now he will devour on anyone that c

His eyes were brimming with anger and felt like tearing the sorcerer apart. "Nothing. It's the curse. This place is cursed to anyone except the sorcerers and two others. Not for everyone," the sorcerer replied and starts walking towards Aldophus. Aldophus drew back cautiously as sorcerers were not creatures any body would careless around. They are fast and powerful as the dark itself. "Me and Sara, right?" The two others the man said was actually Sara and Aldophus. "Yes. You didn't bring her along with you?" The dark sorcerer asked and cackled like laughter.

Then, clad in fuzzy blue bedroom slippers with pom-poms on the toes, baggy jeans, red belt, and braless, she waited. The sorceress took up the mortar and pestle. In went the deadly nightshade, the wild elephant's ear, the bladderwort, and the stinking smut. Blobs of mercury slid over the powdered herbs as she had carefully poured it from the vail while covering her nose and mouth with her feathered sleeve.

That happens whenever they needed to be shown their place, I don't regret losing one of the traitors. If I wanted to go with the interpretation I had in my mind concerning what I had thought about, it meant that one or more of these who sat around the table has a clue of who the sorcerer could be. I wasn't seeking perfection. I know it would be tough to find a hidden traitor, and this time, it was a sorcerer, a user of dark magic who could easily blend into the eyes of people. But there needed to be a start from somewhere. And someone was certainly hiding something.