Ubw Chant Novels & Stories

Only for my sister. The enemy drew closer and Bhakhil began their war chant, Kellen joining in, amping themselves up for the fight. “ARGHOOH, ARGHOOH, ARGHOOH, LIVE OR DIE WE FIGHT!” Louder and louder the men shouted until the thousands of shifters we stood with were all calling out the creed. I even found myself joining in. The beat to which they chanted strummed until if I listened closely underneath the war call, I could hear thousands of hearts beating in time with one another. All synced, not a drop of fear or the stutter of a beat.

They do not care, as their focus remain locked on me. The chant grows louder, pledging protection with every breath. "Mother! Our Mother of Scents!"

I said with my voice filled with surprise. "All we need to do is speak this chant again and touch our marks if trouble arises," he said with a small smile. "What does the chant mean exactly?" I asked, wondering what we had just done. "It translates to 'mind to mind, body to body, fire to fire, bind us together, to be called at will,” he answered. "Oh that makes total sense," I said, restraining myself from slapping my forehead. Of course that made sense! We would be using this fire mark, binding both of us together to call on one another if need be.

A chant passed down from the Last Witches—the key to finding them, to awakening the power they claimed I had buried within me. I took a deep breath. And began. “En’dara wehil, nostrine vahl… fen’dalla kythar in’shae. E’laren mor du’kai, vessen shyr halem…” The words rolled off my tongue—strange, heavy. Ancient. I repeated them. Again. And again. Nothing! The smoke swirled lazily in the wind. The water rippled from a passing breeze. A fly buzzed around my face and I swatted it away in irritation.

“They told stories of our extinction.. They drank to it and they built their power on it.” My voice lowered. “But we are still here.” The clearing erupted not into chaos or disorder but into something that felt raw and alive Then a chant began to rise. It was low at first then slowly it got stronger. “Dustfang.” Again. “Dustfang.” Again. “Dustfang.” The sound pulsed through the trees, through the ground and through the very air itself and I let it continue for a moment. Then I raised my hand and silence returned instantly.

Having Rage here was definitely better, as I could not round this place on foot in a short span of time. I raised one hand to the heavens while the other was holding on to his fur as I began my chant. “Obscuri spiritus, custos meus, vocavi te. industriam circa nos collige et fac ut me subiicias. Obscuri spiritus, custos meus, vocavi te. industriam circa nos collige et fac ut me subiicias.” I felt the energy from the outside banging on the globe, but they didn’t break it. Instead, they dispersed and went around the area that Rage had already passed by, following us as he circled the territory that I had asked him to.

Thunder cracked, rolling across the sky like the growl of something ancient and hungry. Jenna The ropes were tight enough that her fingers were turning numb. Every slight shift scraped her skin raw. But the pain grounded her—kept her focused. Don’t panic. Don’t give in. The chants began. Low at first—almost a hum. “Vorah ka’ren… vorah ka’ren…” (“Blood of dawn… blood of dawn…”) The survivors flinched at the harsh, rhythmic cadence, though none understood the meaning. Steeve’s voice was a hoarse whisper. “They’re… chanting for the morning, aren’t they?”

The witches clasped hands, their eyes reflecting firelight and something more powerful than the pack itself. “Wards are holding,” one murmured, though her voice carried like a bell across the stillness. The air grew colder as they began to chant, low at first, a whisper that crawled across the ground like smoke. The runes flared, pulsing in rhythm with their voices, until the very earth seemed to hum.

- Alex commanded between clenched teeth. —Give me your other hand, Alex, quickly! We interlock the fingers of our other hands and stare into each other’s eyes. —With blood and fire I Thee release …With blood and fire I Thee release… The chant that come out of my mouth seemed to have an echo, reverberating around us. —With blood and fire I Thee send …With blood and fire I Thee send … —To the place where you belong… Where you belong… —Hoping that my future bends …

His eyes were wild with terror, darting around, pleading. The spear-bearers retreated, making way for a group of older women, crones with void eyes and skin stretched like parchment over bone. They stepped forward in unison, circling the altar. Their lips moved in unison as they chanted in a language that felt older than time itself, hands raised, trembling as if pulling energy from the very walls. The sound, gods, the sound, it was unbearable. The combined hum of the chants, the beating of spears, It wasn’t just noise. It was a curse, a lullaby for nightmares.