The Magic Grinder Book Novels & Stories

He sighed, "I fled the village and came here, found myself relying on the very thing I wanted out of my life." We had just reached a rapid flowing creek, and with a flick of Granark's hand, six flat stones assembled themselves in the water, creating a way for us to cross. "Magic helped me survive in this place," Granark continued. "It fed me and kept me alive. In return, I decided to dedicate the rest of my life studying it... in solitude." "But don't you miss your homeland?" I voiced out. "All your family, the loved ones you left behind?"

I pointed out and he scoffed as if I was being absurd for doubting his ability. “I thought I’ve given up on my objectives, but I don’t encourage failure. It’s a shame that I’m considered powerful yet I can’t revive the dead.” He moved across the stone table and flipped the pages of the book, almost tearing off the pages because of how aged it was. “I can’t quite expand my knowledge of magic because this grimoire is bounded.”

"Who the hell are you? This is Lucy's house. What does it have to do with you?" "Seriously, there are all kinds of shameless people these days." The others immediately joined in. I didn't waste a single word arguing with them. Instead, I walked straight to the front door and pressed my hand against the fingerprint scanner. With a sharp beep, the door unlocked. Everyone froze in shock. But then the same relative suddenly spat on the ground and shouted, "So that's it! You secretly changed the locks!" A few younger relatives chimed in indignantly. "Hey, old lady, are you jealous because Lucy has such a perfect love story?"

But the air above the rubble was heavy with the smell of rotted ozone and the metallic, toxic scent of executioner’s poison. I threw myself against the first ice boulder. My human fingers bled, the skin tearing against the frost-bitten stone, but the moment my desperation peaked, the forbidden void magic answered. Ink-black tendrils of smoke erupted from my palms, wrapping around a massive two-ton slab of granite. With a guttural shriek of pure rage, I flexed my wrists, using the vacuum-force of my magic to violently fling the stone into the dark abyss of the canyon. I dug like a rabid animal until the ice cleared, exposing a small, hollow pocket beneath the shelf of the mountain.

I held my bag, staring at the clock, of course I could always just leave school and disappear, focus on more important things I should be doing rather than this, I just had to exercise patience. I brought out my book from my bag, and my pen, silently scribbling in it, but it wasn't a textbook, the leather-bound purple cover of my grimiore with a triqueta insignia on the cover stared back at me, worn and familiar. I exhaled slowly, calming the pulse of magic humming beneath my skin, my pen moved on instinct, sketching the triquetra along the margins. Tap. Tap. Tap.

I murmured to myself, my mind starting to race as I walked over to a table, setting the old book down as I began to leaf through its long index, some pages almost falling out as I touched them “Celebrations after the birth of cubs… Offerings to the Goddess… Feast after the harvest…” “These things seem to have been written centuries ago.” Atticus wrinkled his nose, also reading over my shoulder “Celebrations after children's first transformation? Where did the person who wrote this live? In a village with ten wolves? Does he have any idea how many children transform for the first time every day…?” “Magic rituals.” I interrupted him when I read the title of that chapter, quickly starting to lo

I wake up in Levi's car. I have no idea how long I was out for, but it's dark now. Not that I'm all that shocked. However I must admit I'm glad to be out of the black smoke. That darkness was so much more potent than natural darkness. I can still see the stars and moon, unlike when was chasing shadow. I don't remember what happened after Levi killed the fire stone. Honestly, I'm barely able to keep my eyes open. Every inch of me is drained. I can barely feel my magic right now. It was being stolen from me.

The walls pulsed with ancient runes, light flickering through the veins of rock itself. In the center of the chamber, it stood. The Grand Stone. Tall as a man, wide as a throne, its black surface webbed with silver cracks. The magic within it churned like a living thing, swirling, hungry. And before it - a figure. Hooded, cloaked in shadow, her hand pressed against the stone. Lyra’s pulse leapt to her throat. The half-witch, half-demon stood before the Grand Stone, dark magic twisting through the air around her, threading through the cracks in the prison. Her silver eyes gleamed as she whispered something - words Lyra could not hear, but felt.

"I don't feel powerful. "But you are," she said firmly. "In your first incarnation, you wrote the Grimoire of Shadows. A book that contained all the supernatural spells and rituals. You used part of your own magic to enclose the creatures that could be invoked with the book. There is power inside those pages. A drop of its power, and it is already strong enough that only a human sacrifice allows the book to be read. Can you imagine everything that was left inside you compared to this drop?

When I stood in front of the book, the first page turned on its own. "First lesson of the Seven Magics Academy," Pops said, eyeing me. "You must never touch any of the pages in the books in this room. Touching them will increase their speed of deterioration." "Then, how?" I began, putting my hands at my sides so I wouldn't accidentally touch one. "Like this." He smiled, then leaned in close to the book. "Chapter One," Professor Pops said. The book instantly flicked to the page that said Chapter One.