Witch Craft Things Novels & Stories

After he teaches me how to build a fire, I tell him about what happened, leaving out some of the details like the amulet, but the kid was smart and figured out that's what it was, he’d heard many tales about it from the elders in his village. He told me if he ever had an amulet with that kind of power, he would take it to a Wizard, because trinkets like that are very dangerous in the wrong hands. Pixies are meant to start living on their own at the age of ten, because they are so used to living in forests and living off nature that provides for them. He told me about the Pixies, how as they grew older they could grow their wings, but only some of them, and no one really knew why but bravery

“Talia?” Talia stepped in, smudged fingers tucked into her belt. She smelled faintly of singed herbs; sometime in the grey hour she’d clearly been working. “I’ve woven three things we can actually carry without looking like we’re draped in charms,” she said. She tapped three small bundles on the rock—twisted cloth, each embroidered with a crooked hook. “First, these,” she said. “Ugly little ghosts. If someone tries to draw a circle under them, they’ll eat the shape from the inside out. It’ll look right, but the power will bleed sideways. Wrong colors, wrong feel. It won’t hold.”

My heart starts to ache from the memories- let’s not go back to the terrible times- we've moved forward since then. Also, I learnt about different types of witches and the difference between wizards and sorcerers- oh yeah, there’s a difference. Incantation is chanting words or phrases while enchanted means you’re under a spell. That invocation are binding forces, to invoke spirits or mystical energies Ritualistic is the usage of runes or symbols to represent connections. Artefacts are when objects like a talisman is what symbolises the bond, or rings. I also learnt other creatures existed, I previously thought were brought to life on the pages of books. Jax confirmed this as well

The wood swells and shrinks like it can’t remember its own grain. I set my basket down and run my fingertips along the doorframe. My nails catch on a rough place that wasn’t there yesterday. I could carve a ward. I could lay iron. I could drip blood and demand the moment hold. That would be loud. Loud brings collection. So I do what hedge witches have always done. I repair the ordinary until it behaves. I take beeswax and warm it between my fingers until it softens, then press it into the crack. Beeswax is stubborn. It remembers shapes. It refuses to dissolve politely.

All mixed together in a way that made my wolf restless. Moved through the crowd. Keeping my head down. Not making eye contact. Just another supernatural looking for something he couldn't find in the normal world. A few stalls sold weapons. Enchanted blades. Spelled bullets. Things designed to kill beings that were hard to kill. Moved past those. Not what I needed. Other stalls sold ingredients. Herbs. Bones. Vials of liquids I didn't want to identify. Witches haggling over prices. Discussing potions and spells.

I grabbed a paper towel to dry my hands. “I ordered these supplies from a witch. I don’t have the time to work on it,” he looked upset. I planted my hands on the island, and peeked over at the box, and saw a bunch of things I didn’t really understand. Except for a healing ointment called Bosta. It’s really special and pricey because the ingredients are hard for witches to make. “Why did you order so many things?” “I wanted to make something for you.”

“Let’s go find your alpha and bring him home.” “What about your brother?” the stubborn Beta crosses his arms as he leans against a wall and watches me pack my satchel with various spell components. Unlike Hawthorne and Great-Grandmother who are both sorcerer-class witches, as a hedge-witch my energy needs to funnel through another medium. This means my magic comes through in the forms of potions and tinctures, a magic that can be felt with your fingers and tasted with your tongue. “We don't have time to wait for him. We need to do this now," I press as I continue to search the shelves for the last of my tools. "Have you seen a small copper bowl and brazier?”

Whatever Bridget had done to him, it wasn't natural. The witch reached into a worn leather satchel at her side, pulling out small glass bottles filled with oils that caught the light strangely, a bundle of wooden sticks, and pouches of herbs that filled the room with unfamiliar scents. I studied every item she touched, memorizing each tool in case I needed to identify what she'd done to him later. "How long has he been like this?" she asked without looking up from her preparations. "Since last night," I replied stiffly, my voice barely containing the hostility simmering beneath the surface.

She asked me bluntly Casie: "I am Ummm a new angel so I haven't got wings. What about you?" Sarah: "We are witches." Casie: "Wow I thought witches mostly wear gowns and hats and travel on the broom". Both Sarah and Cristy started laughing Cristy: "We are modern witches girl. We are super stylish and like to keep with the trend. We wear the seasonal trending outfits and we don't travel on just broom. We have high tech flying equipment," she said proudly pointing towards a bicycle attached to a broomstick with a cute little basket and a black cat in it, kept outside.

Not some torture device to keep me here until the stupid rogue wanted to fuck me. She pulled out two other things, one was a small coin from the bag which she held up for me to see. “I’m part witch, so we tend to carry these things on us to impart magic into them. However, this isn’t just a silver coin. It’s hollow on the inside and has a mixture of my own making. I’ve messed around with the percentages over the years, but this one might be my best work. Slowly, over time, the coin will release the aconitum and clematis inside.”