White Snake Sage Novels & Stories

Heath shouted back, which further surprised everyone. He wanted to drink the foot spa water instead of his million-dollar ginseng liquor? Had he lost his mind? Heath ignored everyone and took the bits and pieces out from the pail to have a better look. He started shaking. “A wild ginseng from Mt. White that is at least 150 years old?! A hundred-year-old fleeceflower roots?! A wild snow lotus and a high-grade Solomon’s Seal…”

"Yes, Supreme Priest. I will do my best to get there as soon as possible." Runolf voiced aloud the conversation he held in thoughts with the High Priest, only to boast and brag before his clan of the power he possessed. That topaz was one of the stones that made up the Gems of the Golden Serpent. This and three other topazes held by three other lords that formed the four clans of The Brotherhood of the Oracle, had the peculiarity of allowing their bearers to communicate by thoughts to each other, and with the Supreme Priest of the Brotherhood, who guarded the Golden Snake that housed the rest of the gems.

His shirtless torso is still on display, but I can’t even admire his muscles because the dried blood on his skin as well as the new scars distract me. My heart jumps again and climbs into my throat as Ms. Sage dips the end of an herb bundle into her small fire. Smoke rises and the sharp scent fills the air. The circle around me glows brighter, sparking with yellow light before it turns a deep purple. Ms. Sage waves her herb bundle around, muttering in a strange, yet familiar language that doesn’t make any sense to me. It reminds me of my mother and of how she would whisper little enchantments over the animals we would heal.

Shelves lined the walls, packed tight with vials, herb bundles, and handwritten labels that curled at the corners like they were tired of keeping secrets. I’d been here before. Once. But not like this. This time, I wasn’t looking for herbs. I was looking for proof. I moved shelf to shelf, fingers brushing glass and parchment. Bitterroot. Silverroot. Ghost thistle. Sleepberry. Burnt sage. Bone salt. Most were standard. Harmless, in the right hands. But some? Some were only used for wolves who needed to be silenced. I paused at a jar of Wormroot—crushed, sealed tight with a wax-stamped lid.

Even her nose was slightly beak shaped. Sage looked so similar to how she had always looked her skin was a light shade of green now and she smelled like wild flowers. It was calming just to be near her. She had a great affinity with plants though and said she could hear them talking, apparently the grass didn’t mind being walked on but the trees; they were whispering something to her that she refused to repeat. She showed that she could keep plants alive by just touching them and wrapped four vines on her, two around her wrists, and two around her ankles.

He didn't know about other ingredients, but he had an idea of Bloodsage. "No. It boosted its power," The examiner corrected. The information deepened his frown. "Bloodsage was a rare herb, found only in remote mountain ranges or special stores. As far as he knew, their territory was the only one in the entire region with a store that sold Bloodsage. After the meeting, he headed straight to the store that sold Bloodsage.

I couldn’t move or even process a thought because the wolf that was standing right in front of me was unlike anything I had ever seen before. It was massive, elegant, and extremely beautiful. Its fur was silver, and it glowed under the sunlight like freshly fallen snow. Golden markings glowed across its enormous body, while ancient symbols flickered beneath the fur. And its eyes, those eyes looked otherworldly. I knew who this wolf was. It was the white sage wolf. The ancient, powerful wolf was only talked about in stories. It was a sacred wolf that only appeared once every thousand years during times of war and bloodshed.

I outburst in frustration. Damien chuckled. "She'll be fine; she's just afraid. She's awake, Sage, maybe not mentally but physically. She needs assurance that she's safe before she can heal completely and wake." My brows furrowed in confusion. "She's an Afsrid wolf." I didn't say a word yet, but I digested what he had just said.

Most of it went down her chest. “This isn’t working.” Sage cried when Nix started turning purple. Aarshon knew it was working just too slowly. Willow took a deep breath and then started to chant. As she chanted, she placed stones on Nix’s body. Over her chest, she placed an African Mystic Spirit Quartz. Then around it she placed Ammonite, bloodstone, citrine, and a few that Aarshon had never seen before. Once she was done, Nix was shaking from head to toe. The fever had broken, so Sage took the rags in to throw into the washer. Slyven came in to check on everyone. He had called Russell and told him that Sage was staying overnight. Willow seemed to be chanting faster this time, and Aarshon wo

It is a poison for which there is no cure. “She was in her second night of childbirth,” Magnus continues just as quietly. “The healer here, made her a tea, but put the wrong sap in it.” “I’m sorry,” I tell him. “You never use the white sap in tea or anything to be eaten or drank. The sisters are backwards; the black tree produces white sap while her white sister makes black. Untrained healers will make the mistake not knowing that they produce the opposite.” As we enter the longhouse, he has to duck to enter, Magnus says, “I have been told that the black tree can also be used to camouflage a person’s scent.”