Romans & histoires Story About Witches

WITCHES: THE RISING PLOT The era of witches is gone forgotten by all but a few who has lived through it. However, a teenage girl discovers her powers in an unexpected manner. With the unlike squad she has come to regard as family, what are the challenges they will face in a world predominantly governed by humans? Will they come out whole, alive, unscarred and unscathed? CHAPTER 1 PILOT Clara’s POV:

Her friend’s powers of the witches have awoken, and the wolves did not want that to happen. The werewolves in the past were hunted and used for experiments for the witches to achieve a spell they were never been able to do. It was to be able to trans mutate into animals. The witches could not find the secrets to doing the spell. there was only one witch that was able to do such a thing. That witch was the grand witch. No other witch could figure out how she was able to achieve such greatness or learn her secret in doing the spell.

"But the story of what happened to them is shameful for everyone involved." One of my guards lets out a low, warning growl. He clearly doesn't like where this is going. Mrs. Elena shoots him a sharp, motherly glare. "Be patient, young man. Let me finish the story before you get your fur up." She turns back to me. "A long time ago, witches lived right alongside humans. They kept their gifts quiet and didn't cause trouble. But eventually, the other powers grew jealous. The wolves, the vampires, and the Fae all felt threatened by what witches could do. It led to a lot of blood and politics."

I slipped in quietly, taking a seat near the edge, pretending to be interested in the cup of water I poured for myself. "—witches, they're saying," one of the maids whispered, her eyes wide. "Set fire to the forest. The whole eastern border, up in flames." Witches. The word sent a chill down my spine. I had always heard stories about witches, the same stories that every pup grew up with. They lived in the deep forests, away from packs, practicing their magic in secret. Some said they were dangerous, that they cursed wolves who wandered too close to their territory. Others said they were peaceful, that they kept to themselves and only attacked when provoked.

But it barely explained why, for years, the pain gripped me each time I transformed back and forth. Alexander changed too - and I realized my mistake early. We were out in the woods, in the middle of nowhere, in what he called the Land of The Witches. I had never heard of the witches except around campfires when the elders told us that the witches were not to be trusted, and that back in the day, they used magic to seduce the wolves and snapped their necks any chance they got. But none of us had actually seen one. To me, witches were just a myth.

Not because she was queen but admire the power she had over his King to make him step into the land of Goddess and summon dozens of witches just to see her again, his word, not hers. Wolves do not associate themselves with witches and Witches for they are knows as the creatures of the dark, follower of the dark prince and all that is bad so for him to go to that extent is a slap on everyone’s face. Even talking with them was a taboo so to create a deal with them was too much.

"I'd rather be one of the witches in your werewolf story. The one that designs the parts of a werewolf, precisely." I let out a snort-like laugh; apparently she didn't know what she was talking about. I craned my neck a little. "While growing up, we were always warned against calling out on the witches for trivial matters because when you do, you might unconsciously implore them. Don't be surprised when something witchy happens later in the future." "But I am just a human. What could ever happen?" "As I said, be careful on how you regard the witches. Those creatures are not to be exploited."

Siri 'continues as the greetings stop. 'We know this enemy'. A group of witches appears. 'We have helped our English sisters look in The witch's hammer for the trail of the dark enemy'. I do not understand why, but I know instinctively that this group is the Scandinavian witches. 'Who is the dark one ? Our job is to take care of those wolves. We have not received any alerts about a new enemy'. A witch in a colorful dress, from the West African coven, becomes visible. Although the dark woman speaks her own language, I still understand what she is saying. The astral plane we are all on had to have that effect.

“They were a mistake.” I listened, transfixed, as she wove the tale of two witches—lovers from rival covens. Their love was forbidden, and their power was feared. When they ran, seeking freedom, they were hunted like animals. And when one was struck down, the other—mad with grief—turned to blood magic, the most dangerous of all forbidden arts.

She wanted to speak but Diane spoke before her. "We don't have much time today," she said. "I was telling you a story the last time we met. My story," she glanced up. Melissa nodded. She remembered the story. Last time they had spoken about how they'd trusted a wolf and it had led to the demise of their population. She wanted to ask her then, how did the witches lose easily to just a single wolven attack? From what she'd heard about witches, they were literally forces of nature. Yet somehow half of them had died and were at the mercy of an ordinary werewolf.