Storytelling Magic 소설 & 이야기

There was only one way I would be able to escape from this magic…… My mother had taught me about it a long time ago when she was still alive. "Do you know about the LB magic?" She had asked one fateful morning. "The LB magic?..." It sounded strange to me and so I asked back. "Yes, it is magic used in driving the sexual energy and urge of a man" She had explained. "Really? There is something like that?" I probed with curious eyes. "The only way the man can escape from it is to inflict pains into the body of the one that had induced the magic" She stated. "You can inflict pain on such a person by either biting or digging your claws into the person's body. The secret here is that once the perso

Keith shouted while the police surrounded him and Martina left the kitchen. “Oh, poor Keith! I knew that your greedy wife would leave you looking at how rich and handsome I am! I wore expensive clothes and shoes to impress her. And guess what? I succeeded. She became a way for me to reach you! I gifted her expensive things and she told me every little detail of this house and all the necklaces and gifts you’d been gifting her! Thanks to Henry for reaching out on time and helping me to take revenge from you. What did you think? You’ll steal things from people, kill my dad and nobody would know? I saw the CCTV footage and saw all the times you stole money and jewelry from our shop! You fooled

“Are you sure that there is no magic involve? Maybe magic has evolved all this while human think there are no magic left.” “That is not likely You Highness. Magic is a gift from God who spread magic particles in the air of the Dracenthia Kingdom. So like air, they are scattered all over the place. In countless numbers. It's just that, if air can enter the human body through inhalation, magic particles cannot enter the human body. Magic particles are borrowed to create things. For example, water, fire, earth, moving objects and others. But after using magic, the magic particles will return to the air. So it is impossible for magic to affect human’s brain as you say so, Your Highness. But, you

The man looked unmovable as he starred at Art. “It started like this. About fifty or so good people away from their land far in the midwest, crossed the ocean and settled in Fox Groves. Before they came, this was nothing. It was only pebbles and rocks, a place not suited for livestock, crops and human life. But then, these fifty people were not normal. Each carried a special gift, a special power – the power of white magick. They were sorcerers and witches. The mags. Their magick revived the land, the land thrived around them, flourished and they lived in peace and harmony. Their magick was pure and holy, their intent true and selfless. They used magick to heal, to bring peace and love.” She

“Until she accepts who she is and accepts the magic within her, there is nothing I can do. There is something else there, something impossible to reveal. She must unlock it herself.” Alaric walks over and glances down at them both, confused. “Isn’t there a spell or something you can do to force her to accept who she is?” Alaric knows that the longer she goes on believing this is just a fantasy, the more at risk she is. “No, I’m afraid I can’t. Using magic to tamper with someone's mind in that way is forbidden, and there is no guarantee it will work. She has to believe it; she has to feel it.”

The monastery’s walls groaned, shedding flakes of stone. Inside Killian’s skull, the First spoke calm, patient: “Every struggle ends with surrender. You’re not holding him back. You’re holding yourself back. One word, one moment, and I can stop this. All you need do… is let me in.” The tendril surged, wrapping around Daryl’s chest now, lifting him into the air. Killian clung to his cousin’s shoulders, dangling, boots scraping stone. Pain tore through him, magic burning. He could feel his bones splitting, his veins glowing faint red as the First’s power pressed into him.

I raised an eyebrow at his story, still not understanding its relevance. "One day the man and the woman had a baby girl. But this girl was no ordinary girl. She was special," he said, inspecting his nails casually. Then his eyes lifted to mine. "She was one born of magic, and of the moon." Shock ripped through my body at his words, but I schooled my face into neutrality. "And what does this fairytale have to do with me?" I asked. Damion burst out laughing and slapped his knee. Within an instant, he had shoved himself off of the stool and dropped down on his knees in front of me so that we were eye to eye.

"Who is this person, Dr. Hannah? And what makes him so different?" Dr. Hannah smiled again and leaned forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "He believes that stories have the power to heal, transport us to different worlds, and open up the deepest parts of our hearts and minds." Camilla was intrigued. "How does he do that?" "Well," Dr. Hannah said as she leaned back in her chair, "This friend of mine has a magical talent. He weaves custom-made stories for each of his patients. These stories bring together elements from their past, hopes, and dreams. They guide his patients on a journey of self-discovery and healing."

She always tells me stories about them. I could remember the story she told me when I was fifteen. It was about a young girl of my age, then, who would try to save her world. She would not have any supernatural powers. And I remembered I asked her; "so how will she survive all the problems?" "She needs friends...she need you. She need to discover her powers." Was all Mom said and I remained confused. She had once told me this same story when I was about six years of age. I always wondered why she repeated the same story.

I raised a brow at his outrageous story, but stayed silent. “I mentioned magic was real,” he continued. “Back then, it was easier to perform because there was not the use of electricity like today. Electricity can interfere with true magic.” Since I could care less about energy messing with something that I didn’t believe in, I asked about something that was equally unbelievable. “Why was I stolen?” His face lit up. “You believe me?” I shrugged. “I need to hear more.”