The Other World's Wizard Does Not Chant Novels & Stories

With bated breath, he raised his hands, their trembling a reflection of the gravity of the task at hand. Summoning the profound depths of his ancient power, the wizard began to utter incantations that resonated with the very essence of creation. His voice, a vessel of magic and history, echoed through the chamber, infusing the air with an ethereal presence. As he muttered the sacred words, the encompassing energy responded, swirling with an otherworldly luminescence. Threads of enchantment wove through the room, like ephemeral tendrils seeking out the venom's hold on the king's body. With each chant, the wizard's hands seemed to dance, delicately tracing invisible patterns in the air.

“Listen to me, boy. You won’t bring justice by charging into the lion’s den bare-chested. If you go now, you’ll be another corpse they forget.” James glared at him. “Then what? What do I do, wait until they wipe out what’s left of my people?” “No,” the wizard said. “You become the weapon they never see coming.” He turned and motioned for James to follow. Inside the wizard’s cottage, the air thickened with the scent of old parchment, bitter herbs, and something faintly metallic. The wizard walked to a large stone basin and began chanting in an ancient tongue. He tossed in dried herbs, crushed bone powder, and a vial of dark liquid that sizzled as it hit the hot water.

“I am glad to see you.” “I told you, I’m ready.” I said softly. “Then stand in the circle,” he instructed. I stepped in, the flames flickering. My chest tightened. “What will happen to me?” “You will see flashes,” the old wizard explained. “Faces, places, maybe even pain. But I’ll be here. You won’t be alone.” I took a deep breath. “Alright. Let’s begin.” The old wizard stepped in and lifted his hands and began chanting words I didn’t understand. The air grew heavy, warm, full of power.

Not everything could be healed with honey words. “Everley’s on its feet,” I said quietly as we passed the east wing. Kellan cocked his head. “Might be standing. Barely.” Witches and wizards stood at the outer edge of the courtyard, chalk runes in their fingers as they etched patterns into stone and tapped against the ward points that flared to life under their touch, fingers sparking with captured sunlight as they chanted to keep the weak protections in place. It was not elegant magic. It was not the dazzling spectacle I’d come to expect from Obscura. It was raw and ugly and magic that would keep them alive.

Neither of them said anything, and neither of their faces betrayed any emotion. Without a word, Nathan took the parchment from the witch. Nathan unfolded the parchment, scanning its contents. His face, usually so stoic, displayed a flicker of uncertainty. “We need to read all of this? Out loud?” The witch nodded. “It’s crucial. Your intentions and the chant must harmonize. The universe listens intently to a heart that speaks its truth.” Sensing our apprehension, she added, “But remember; it’s not just the words. It’s the intent behind them. You’re doing this for Alvin, for your friend. Let that guide you.”

Ancient forces, hear our plea, Across the realms, let our voices be. Astral echoes resonate within, Unveil the truth, where secrets begin. Oh, Zephyros, spirit of the breeze, Carry our intentions through lands and seas. Whisper in the ears of ethereal guides, Bring forth knowledge from the celestial tides. ... As the words echoed through the chamber, a palpable energy filled the air, swirling and intertwining with the chant's potency.

he exhaled with great reluctance. "So there is another world beyond the human realm," I muttered absently. He scoffed. "It's nothing like the wizarding world, I assure you." He looked away and mumbled to himself again, "It's more like the fucking Flintstones." The real Rum seems to enjoy mumbling to himself. "Can I visit it?" He spun around with a fierce look. "NO." "Why not? You came to ours. It's only fair that we go to yours." "You seemed to talk pretty confidently now, Dirty Rosey." A smirk appeared in those fine lips.

I mouthed back as I quickly nodded in understanding. My ears perked up at the sound of Wymond stepping on a twig, we turned our attention back to him and realized he's no longer walking towards us. He glared at the bush for a very brief moment, before walking closer to the small lake. He raised his hands and chanted a few incantations coherently, I tried very hard to listen to the words he was saying but even with my super hearing, I still couldn't picked out any meaningful word. What is he now? Is he a wizard too? I wondered inwardly.

“This is not fair at all. Don’t you have shame?!” I thought he just told me that I can’t win with my attacks. I tilted my head and examined his face, enough for him to get annoyed even more. “You said it, I’m a witch. I don’t do swords. How am I supposed to fight you then?” “Calista Harmony!” he yelled my name with his eyes seem to pop out.

At first, he was afraid but he braced up and walked to the gate. "What are you doing here?" he asked. "Open the gate," the wizard replied. "You must be crazy to tell me to open the gate. Get away from here before I raise an alarm!" the guard yelled. Suddenly, the wizard blew a black powder on his face and he became hypnotized and was gazing at the wizard as if he was in a trance. "Now, I command you to open the gate," the wizard said in a whisper. Without hesitation, the guard opened the gate and the wizard and the two witches walked through the gate.