Warlock Apprentice Novels & Stories

"I apologize, I had heard the rumor of your life in the human world, but I was not aware you knew so little of your own. No marrying a stranger was not what I had hoped for myself, but it became inevitable after the wars between the creatures of this world. This marriage will ensure the safety of my people as well as yours. This is the first time our kind have been allowed to mix so this wedding means much more than a simple a allowance. It will pave the way for a new history to be written with us as the victor. "I keep hearing about these wars, but no one has told me why or who they went to war with." His hands clench and his jaw tenses as he stares blankly at the pond. "The wolves" the gra

I pounced on the skinny guard with twisted sandy blond moustache, sinking my canine into his neck, and drawing a large pull of blood into my mouth. I growled aloud, feeling like a new man, alive and capable of many things. The blood watered my parched throat, giving me another chance at life. I snarled at the second fat guard with short black hair, who was already on his knees, begging for his life with teary eyes. I crawled over to his side, wiping my mouth with a thumb. "What's your name, young warlock." "Wy_ Wymond, Sire." He sobbed, shivering like a tree bending to the boisterous whirl of the wind.

“You’re late.” From the darkness near the door, a figure stepped forward — a tall man with eyes as pale as ash and a smile like a blade. His name was Darek, a warlock from the Black Coven. She had summoned him once before, when the witch wars had torn through the borders. Now she needed him again, for a quieter, deadlier kind of battle. “Control is relative,” she replied coolly. “I still hold the Alpha’s mark. I still wear his crest. I still command this pack.”

He grunted and released a sharp breath. I followed as he guided me to the window. He quickly began to pace, and as I perched on the stone ledge, I listened to the strain within his gravely voice. “As a child, I was ecstatic when my magic finally manifested itself. Unlike you royals, us average wolves either develop magic or we don’t, there’s no in between. I had a clear idea of who I’d become and the kind of magic I’d have. Becoming a royal’s warrior was the last thing I wanted. Normal wolves find their mate at eighteen, but a warrior doesn’t. At eighteen we realize what we are, what our purpose is. I rebelled when I found out, and it got worse when I realized I was the warrior of a family d

Sethlzaar squatted in front of Wraith’s cage as it licked his hand—stretched inside it—of meat remnants. “It’s getting very big, brother,” Takaris observed from his place behind Sethlzaar while Cenam studied the other animals. “Very soon you won’t have a need for Apparit. You’ll be riding a wolf around the realm.” “The wolf priest, they’ll call you,” he added, his hands displaying a glorified nonexistent placard in the air. “You know, brother, if you spend more time with the bow as you do with your little idiosyncrasies, Father Vargason would, perhaps, value you more,” Sethlzaar said, looking at him.

It's like therapy for me. In no time, I find the Azanian warlock sitting at a river bank. He looks like he is on a trance. He is mumbling in his native language whilst stirring the water with his staff. I observe from the sidelines. Then after a while, the water starts rippling. The first thing I see emerging is a golden trident. Then a very well built humongous man with long hair and a beard emerges. He has a forbidding aura around him and he looks extremely pissed. "WHO DARES DISTURB MY PEACE!?"

“Why do you always think that when the Council wants a Magickal brought to them, he’s going to get punished?” “He isn’t? It must be something about his blood, then. He’s an unregistered Magickal?” “Well, that’s the clincher, really. That’s why we specifically need you for this assignment. He’s a warlock and he has no idea, and he lives a Mundane as much as we know of, who manages to make himself a billionaire therefore he can afford to live outside of the grid.” I snort. “You’re kidding me. That’s like a made-up story.”

She had to work harder than any other apprentice in order to gain her leader's approval. Longkit, Bramblekit, Marshkit and Newtkit had finally become apprentices. Because there was a shortage of warriors, Russetstar had made Snowstorm a mentor at a very young age. She was mentoring Marshpaw, a young apprentice with what felt like boundless energy. Talonclaw mentored his own son, Bramblepaw. Sleetstorm and Nightclaw got Longpaw and Newtpaw as apprentices.

My friends advance alongside me, ready to take on the world. "Stop." My voice rings clear and a wave moves through the room, causing everyone to look at me. Ezequiel laughs hard. "You think your puny tricks can scare me? I am a Warlock, raised on the fears of children, and bred from the ice of hell. Nothing scares me, and definitely not a girl who thinks she's special." His hands move, and a spindly black object shoots towards me, wrapping itself around my arm.

"I know he is well known and people think of him as a war hero. He has a reputation for being honorable to a fault." "You don’t know the half of it," said the first soldier, "by the way, my name is Rowell and this is Feri." They all said hello to each other again. Emmett was starting to feel better and his nose had stopped bleeding all together, so he sat up and asked for more information. "You said this is only the third apprentice Tane has ever taken, what happened to the other two? Does he always choose them this young?"