Witchcraft Academy Novels & Stories

"This pamphlet includes your room key, your class schedule, and your bank information through Divinity Credit Union." I open the file and look at my schedule. I have Sparring, Angelic & Demonic History, Magical Studies, and Magical Enhancement. The classes seemed interesting enough, I turned the next page, and my eyes widened, my eyebrows almost shooting off my head. "Umm, Headmaster Simmins, where did this money come from?" "Ah yes," He said, glancing over my shoulder and looking at the page I was on. "That is a monthly stipend provided by the Academy; we want to ensure that our students never go without."

Having not like the man since he’d accused my friend Mara of being a witch and taken her away. I never saw her after that. It was safe to assume that she’d died in WitchFall. Most do. I knew. It was a massive torture chamber where witches confessed to their sins. We watched the older man coming down off the hill from his towering fortress. His powdered wig and overly elaborate cravat carefully in place. “An evil one.” My eyes narrowed. “You only say that because of his pursuit of you.” “No. There’s something wrong with him.” I insisted. “Saria, you been saying this for years.” She groaned. “He’s the most powerful man in our village and the six surrounding.”

It was good to know that there was no pain involved in the process of transforming. "Well, what are you?" Rachel questioned, I had never had that question asked to me before. It made the metamorphosis of my change even more real. "I'm a Witch, I only really found out last week," they both reacted the way I expected them to. Their faces were the epitome of shock. "Are your parent's Supernaturals? I know on-occasion Supernaturals with adopted human parents are usually recruited into one of the Luveldom Academies," Rachel's British accent was really pleasant to the ears. It was also intriguing to find out that there were more Luveldom Academies around the world. "My Father is actually a Warlock

They came in and sat at the far corner of the room, I noticed almost every girl want to be friends with her, which I don’t understand. “ yea I known what you thinking, it happens every time she enters the school” someone said behind me. “ huh” looked at the girl behind me, the girl has a wavy honey brown hair, she smiled, “name is Bridget packer” “ huh mine Kate Griffin, well yea I was just wondering why everybody well most people let just say that went to friends with her, who is she, like did she run the school or I don’t understand”. She chuckled “ nah she is Killian cousin” “ sorry who” I was confused “ wait you don’t know Killian, well everybody known who he is, his family and other fam

I actually want witches to have the opportunity to be at the Crimson Claw Academy. It houses the finest of the werewolf breed which equals an infinite amount of power sources for us! We get a proper education and we have an infinite pool of power from hormonal teenagers! Beautiful chaos if you ask me. “Anaya, don't you have anything to say?” My name was called and I turned to look at my clan people. “No, I don't have anything to say. Let's just focus on surviving today,” I said to them, which shut them up pretty fast.

So, I was here. THE GIFTED ACADEMY. The Academy sat at the very heart of Coldtown, perched on a hill that overlooked the pack city like some ancient fortress reborn. The main gates stretched wide, crafted of silver and dark stone, etched with runes that hummed faintly as I stepped closer. They weren’t just decoration — they pulsed with old magic, a reminder that this place wasn’t for ordinary wolves. Inside, the academy sprawled like its own kingdom. Towers touched the skies, their glass windows catching the light, while bridges of stone and ivy connected them above the courtyards.

She could finally hear her mother call out to her. “Cherry.” “Mom.” “Listen to me please. Do you see the woman who handed you the necklace?” “Yes.” “She's a friend. I need you to go with them. They are there to bring you back home.” “Okay.” The Good Witch cast a levitation spell on the girl and she was able to get her out of the tree. Then she had Isabella's father hand her the water sack. She poured the contents over the girl's tail. Her scales stopped flaking and her wounds stop bleeding. The witch took out the shell.

"Damon, Arnette, you're coming with me." --- **THE WITCH'S SANCTUM** The sanctum of the Pack’s witch was an old, weathered cabin hidden deep within the forest, surrounded by towering trees and shrouded in an aura of ancient magic. The air was thick with the scent of herbs and incense, and the flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows across the walls, creating an atmosphere of otherworldly tension.

Jared and I have been living in Arcadia, our capital city—named after the ancient city where Selene’s werewolf son, Lycaon, first settled. The first of us. Our Arcadia honors our forefather and serves as the heart of our world. It houses the governmental seat and the academy where wolves and witches train side-by-side—learning to fight, to hone our affinities, and to wield our Goddess-given gifts. From ages 18 until we find our mates, we live and breathe the academy. It molds us into the wolves the Goddess meant us to be.

I asked. I was once told about the Vine of Witches by Namilla and my father. A coven of witches and wizards who draw their powers from the shape and ideology of water. They worshiped the saltwater goddess, Salacia who is in line with the Moon goddess. Which was why there was more of a connection and unison between the Werewolves and the Witches than the Vampires. “It all has to do with your mind. When you are ready to drink some water, you will break free from your healing cord and drink some water from this pot.” He told me and then left before I could ask any follow up questions.