White Master Novels & Stories

A bunch of articles came up but it wasn't giving me what I really wanted. So I typed in ‘Light witches’ instead. ‘Light witches practice white magic. White magic refers to the use of supernatural powers or magic for selfless purposes. Many of these people claimed to have the ability to do such things because of knowledge or power that was passed on to them through hereditary lines, or by some event later in their lives. White magic was practiced through healing, blessing, charms, incantations, prayers, and songs. White magic is the benevolent counterpart of malicious black magic.’

Jasper swiped to the next page on the tablet, his tone cautious: "Miss White attended the same high school as the young master—she chased him relentlessly, bringing him breakfast in the rain and sneaking sketchbooks over the wall." "On the night of their high school graduation, the young master, drunk, tossed her a casual'keep up if you can'." "But then he met Winnie Carter at Harvard's freshman orientation and left Miss White hanging like a forgotten accessory." "The young master finds her clingy, yet keeps her around for amusement. They've known each other for six years,'dated'for four. Miss White has been used as a betting chip, a party joke. Everyone in their circle laughs at how she thr

To sit there was to be the alpha of alphas and he needed that badly, for a million reasons, but especially for one. “I try not to think about Eldarna too much,” he responded. “We have been practicing. I am thinking we have bigger problems.” Nate dropped his glass, he needed to hear everything Avan had to say “What problems?” “There’s a white wolf here.” He waited to get a reaction from Nate but when he didn’t, he knew Nate had already heard “You’ve heard.” He said. “You decided a white wolf with no rank should attend to council members. You should know it will be the talk of the pack for as long as it will take them to find something more interesting to talk about.”

​From the depths of the incandescent white walls, three colossal figures emerged. ​They were the Master Animators, eleven-foot, faceless entities forged from solid, polished gold-leaf armor, their chests open to reveal massive, spinning brass wheels that churned through thousands of master typeface stamps every second. They carried no weapons, but their long, multi-jointed arms ended in heavy silver styluses that vibrated with a high-frequency alignment pulse designed to rewrite the physical anatomy of any rogue variable that entered their margins.

"I'm letting this slide because of Walter. Aren't you going to thank him? Mess with him again, and you'll have me to answer to!" Five years ago, I would have been tripping over myself to set the record straight. I never picked on Walter; he was the mastermind behind all the so-called bullying. However, I was done playing the fool, trying to justify myself to people who could not have cared less. "Sorry, I just came back to get my ID." Instantly, I was met with a sea of scowling faces. They all thought I was biting the hand that fed me. "Why do you have to make a big deal out of nothing? Keep this up, and do you really want to end up back in the psych ward?"

Obviously. Solas stood at my right, his arms crossed, hood drawn, his creepy eyes blank as stormclouds. Too calm, always too calm. He only spoke when he had solutions, and right now he had none. "They caught him," I said flatly. "Or he turned. Either way, he’s done." "Likely confessed everything under spellcraft," Solas murmured. "That white wolf’s witch is strong. Clever. Dangerous." Dangerous. The word soured in my mouth.