Witch Myths Novels & Stories

Mysteria, the magical world of supernatural’s, a realm with the tallest mountains, luscious forests, and precipitous waterfalls. From werewolves and witches to orcs, this enchanted land is the birthplace of imagination. The mystical beings were all made by many different Deities, including those of Selene, Cerridwen, Ogrun, and Valkrim. They fashioned new life forms in their own image to coexist in the realm of Mysteria.

tenth of the power of the old families. The Eastern European and Oriental witches had never established the kind of dynasties the Western European witches had. “They guarded their spells from each other,” Asil told him. “So each family tended to specialize. Mariposa’s family was one of the greatest of the witch families.” He hesitated. “But she was only a child, and this was their greatest spell. I can hardly believe they entrusted her with it.” “What was it?” “Her family was said to have guardians on their grounds, great beasts who patrolled and killed for them— but never needed food or drink. It was rumored that they made them from living creatures—they had a menagerie.” He sighed. “Such

Athena straightened with realisation as her eyes narrowed. “The witch. You think she might have done this?” “Maybe,” Lorraine shrugged. “Moreover, there are five more. She is just the most… visible. So, I was thinking… the way the sceptre pulses with power could be said to be a sort of magic. Witches mainly rely on magic for all their deeds, good or bad. With the help of the moon goddess, I think Dominic will have a better chance against whatever this is.” Athena nodded as she looked back at the soldier whose eyes were steadily on her.

I’m beginning to lean more and more toward the idea of a witch or warlock in Portland. Witches and warlocks both practice magic, but witches do so using nature while warlocks supposedly draw power from something much more sinister. Both were driven out centuries ago, way before my time, and ever since the act of registering every supernatural being came into play, the ones who had stayed behind or returned at some point found themselves targeted by overly ambitious vampires or shifters. They’re a minority even in other parts of the world.

"I'm sorry, but you have to explain better." "Your Goddess..." He falters. "The Moon Goddess?" "Yes." He replies. "Thousands of years ago, there were two types of witches: the White witches, who are known to be good, and the Black witches, who are tagged evil. War broke out between the two, and when the Black witches tried to fight back, they realized that the White witches had blocked off the conduit through which they could generate power and energy. So they were left helpless and defenceless against the White witches." He paused again to see if I was following.

With my heart pounding, my gaze fixed on the ethereal display, I watched. One by one, the sigils transformed, morphing into memories—not mine, but ancient echoes, visions from a distant past. Witches standing atop jagged mountain peaks, hands raised to the storm-wracked sky, weaving lightning with their bare hands. Silver magic dancing from their fingertips like living energy. Giant wolves, their fur shimmering under moonlit skies, kneeling in reverence, not to the witches, but to the magic itself, to the balance it represented. Fire raining from the sky in a war long past, a conflict of immense proportions, a clash of powers that had shaped the world.

I'm beginning to lean more and more toward the idea of a witch or warlock in Portland. Witches and warlocks both practice magic, but witches do so using nature, while warlocks supposedly draw power from something much more sinister. Both were driven out centuries ago, way before my time, and ever since the act of registering every supernatural being came into play, the ones who had stayed behind or returned at some point found themselves targeted by overly ambitious vampires or shifters. They're a minority even in other parts of the world.

Regina's Memories/POV I sit by the window, watching the moon cast its silvery glow. Memories of Dwayne flood my mind, and I'm transported back to a time when love was new, and hope seemed eternal. As a witch, I knew our love was forbidden. The ancient laws, passed down through generations, decreed that witches and werewolves shouldn't mix. The Great Divide, they called it. Legend has it that witches and werewolves were once united, their powers complementary. But a catastrophic event, known as the Lunar Tear, drove them apart. Witches sought control, while werewolves craved freedom.

“But I thought my magic was water magic. Storms and rain, that kind of thing.” “It is,” said Merrick, “but it’s complicated. Witches magic can change depending on mood. See, most people think of magic as a force. Which it is to some extent. But it’s also a living, breathing, thing that is inside of you. Which means not only are you granted powers by our goddess---Hecate---you are also made up of magic yourself. It’s in your blood. It’s why some witches and warlocks can feed off each other better than others.”

I quickly search for 'Four cardinal elements' and when I hit enter a lot of links about nature religions, paganism and something called wicca pops up. "Wind, fire, water and air. The Four elements that flow through us all is the pillow in practising witchcraft". I read out loud. Witchcraft ? Well I can't be turning into a witch. I open the link, feeling curious. Looking down the page, several things seem to draw me in. I nervously bite my lip before pushing the link saying 'magic and spells'.