Storytelling Magic Novels & Stories

Jane’s POV “What’s the difference?” I asked. From the tone of her voice I could tell that she was going to start preaching to me but I was beyond that. I didn’t want to hear her preachings. “Nothing,” she shrugged while folding her arms. “Magic is not some cool power you can use for an upgrade. It’s more than that. Magic is a lifestyle. With magic you can create and destroy. With magic you can build and take down. Magic can be beautiful and it can be ugly. You don’t want to have magic with an ugly soul. Take it from me, it is never a good sign.”

I inhale sharply. Whoever cast this… They weren’t merely powerful, they were brilliant. Layer upon layer of enchantment folds over itself so seamlessly that even another witch might walk past without noticing. I close my eyes again. The world around me disappears. Only the spell remains. I don’t attack it. That would be a mistake. Power answers power, violence answers violence. No… Magic has a language. Every spell tells a story. Every enchantment leaves fingerprints. I simply begin reading. Slowly.

I might as well ask some questions if I need to be awake to meet the Council soon. "It's kinda complicated. That water runs through my veins, like blood. So, it's actually magic. I figured the only way to kill a magic fire was with magic water. And it worked," he shrugs like it's not big thing. But it is! Its a huge thing!

"And this troubles you?" "Yes. No. I don’t know." Nathan dragged a hand through his hair. "It’s not just the bond. It’s the allure too. My father says witches pull wolves in with magic, that it’s not real. But the book says the bond is separate. That it’s not magic." Alice tilted her head. "And what do you think?"

Back then, to maintain his poor-man act, my father never transferred more than a thousand dollars to my mother at a time. Out of the blue, he was suddenly able to send her a million dollars without blinking. My mother looked at the bank card and scoffed. “Rowan, you’ve been lying to me for ten years, and all I get is a million dollars? “That’s not what the money’s for. Zoe is about to start elementary school. Haven’t you always wanted to buy a house with a big backyard? “I’ll figure out the housing situation. But now’s not a good time. Layla’s been watching my every move lately.”

Irina was amazed, looking at her dress. “Let me see your bleeding hands.” Lucas closed the gap between them. He didn’t need to do anything with her face as the slapping mark had already gone. “Wow…” Irina impressed, looking at her clean hands. “I’m healed.” Smiling weakly, Lucas didn’t dare telling her that her wound healed itself and he did nothing about it but cleaned the blood stain. “I knew it.” Irina exclaimed. “Magic is amazing thing.” Lucas smile turned weaker. “Speaking of magic, why don’t you or Master Nieal scare of me? Why not have me burnt like stories I heard about magic users?”

Lark said then he made a motion of his finger towards a chest box and magically it opened. Earth and Sky both saw the process and couldn’t help but be amazed. One of the lectures was about chanting magic to conjure the power but what Lark did was without any form of a chant. A display of a high level of skill. “Go on and collect the remaining materials for the ceremony, it’s all in the box, then you may leave and go to the final stage and wait for the ceremony,” he instructed unbothered by the amazed look on their faces. Earth and Sky went and looked at the box and they are shocked to see the number of materials inside it contains. This is practically cheating at its finest. They each took o

“I know, it was me that showed them to you. So you’ll also know that in the Codex Transfiguratio it says: ‘the imagination is the Queen of all the senses, for she is closest to the thoughts of God.’ Imagination is the key to all magic, you know it is. Every occult ritual and symbol is merely a way of focusing the imagination so we can recreate reality just as God once created it.” “You’re not convincing me.” “In the beginning was the ‘word’ and the ‘word’ was with God. He is the ultimate storyteller, trapped within His own story. What better way to escape His story than with another story? The Rite of Adocentyn is a collectively shared story in which we’re all storytellers. We counter the pr

Each one had symbols drawn on each. He was beginning to feel like a street performer with the way he kept pulling stuff out of his duffle bag. Maybe after here he might make a living from pulling stuff out of a magic bag. Well, with the stuff he pulled out so far, the bag might as well be magic. ‘Avada’. Chuckling again to himself at his even more terrible joke he proceeded to hang the different trinkets and ring bags on each of the wooded poles stabbed into the ground, carefully selecting which bag went where and what trinket went on what with what. He double and triple checked to make sure he had not swapped one for any other.

she replied softly her eyes downcast. "Celeste?" Azian echoed, "Legions mate." At this, all of them held their breaths, "there is a story of a king who promised more than he could give, who sparked a hatred so deep, it turned a soul rotten to the core," Erania shook her head, her lava hair sticking down her intricate back where all sort of markings were spread, "there is a magic that began at the beginning of time, Magic so dark even gods have no say,"