Witchcraft Basics Novels & Stories

He could feel the slight pain left in her shoulder and an excitement that was not his. She held her hands out in front of her chest and closed her eyes. Mistress Caldwell explained what Tyko was doing as she helped to focus and guide the process. He noticed the druids had been replaced by a couple of witches who were whispering rapidly towards Tyko and Mistress Caldwell with their hands extended. He felt a strange tug and surge as something started to form between Tyko’s hands. It grew to just a little larger than a nickel before Tyko relaxed and Mother Caldwell reached out and took it from the air between her hands.

He was cut off by a painful howl from the rogue we tied up a few feet away from us. I made sure Hunter weaken the monster to the point of death but just barely breathing so that way it would be much easier for Freya to take him down. It still doesn't mean he was too weak to not be a potential danger, rogues unpredictable behaviors are part of what made them very dangerous to any packs. "It's all done, time to proceed." She announced stepping back enough for me to glimpse the odd circle with several lines inside it. I had no idea what it meant but I knew it's a part of witchcrafts and rituals.

He drops the satchel beside the altar. Inside it, the ritual components wait. Everything he’d stolen, bartered, bled for. Arwan unrolls the cloth and begins. Salt. Bone dust. A single black feather. One fingernail from a wolf. One tooth from a man. A sliver of silver so pure it burns his fingertips. The sorcerer doesn’t ask for simple things. His hand shakes slightly as he slices across his palm. Blood drips, thick and reluctant, into the center of the altar. The symbols carved into its surface begin to pulse faintly, as if breathing.

But witches operated outside pack law, outside the rules that governed our world. Dangerous. Unpredictable. Useful. "What kind of herbs?" I asked carefully. "All kinds, from what I understand. Fertility treatments, obviously. But also, things for..." Britney hesitated. "Other purposes." "Like what?" "Influence. Persuasion." She lowered her voice further. "My sister's friend used something to make her mate more... attentive. Said it worked perfectly." Tessa scoffed. "That's manipulation." "That's survival," Britney countered. "Sometimes fate needs a little push."

Before we leave for Crimson Moon, we must also go to the nearby lake to sink in a sacrifice. The lake itself was serene, its waters dark and reflective under the twilight sky. The stillness of the surroundings added to the solemnity of our task. It is a basket with some bottles of alcohol, blue, red, and white cloth strips, and an egg. Each item was chosen for its symbolic significance and power. Witches believe that if the egg bursts when it hits the water, it means that there is an evil spirit involved in the matter to be solved. As we approached the lake, Master Brent muttered a prayer under his breath, seeking guidance and protection from higher powers. We carefully prepared the sacrific

The Hunt was dedicated to killing all supernaturals, saying that we were unnatural demons who needed to be extinguished. The first group they went after were the witches. The witches were the easiest species to get rid of since they were basically human. They didn’t have magic wands, hands, or pinkies. The witches believed in making their own magic. They had books that were passed down from generations, teaching them to make potions. They read directions out of a book, mixed some things together, said a few words, and poof the outcome is a potion. They had no sort of immediate defense once their potions were gone because they had to prepare them days in advance.

Opened it to a marked page. "Look at this," she said. I stood up. Walked over. Looked at the page. It was written in a language I didn't recognize. But at the bottom, there was a drawing. A circle. Two figures inside. Connected by a line. "The ritual Sara used was designed to break bonds," the woman said. "But it can also be undone. If you have the right ingredients. And the right sacrifice." "What kind of sacrifice?" She looked at me. Her expression was unreadable.

He tapped the center of the page with a serious expression. “This,” Draven began, “is what Gloria is working toward. It’s a convergence ritual—something that hasn’t been attempted for centuries. The purpose is to tether witch magic permanently to the rogues, creating an unbreakable bond.” I frowned, studying the drawing of a large stone altar surrounded by glowing sigils. “How does it work?” Draven’s eyes turned to me. “The ritual requires a vessel—someone strong enough to act as the anchor between the witches and the rogues. Gloria’s found that vessel.”

In the middle was herb garden, small glowing orbs floated around it as blue butterflies fluttered about happily. Gerwulf placed me at one of the tables and instructed me to remove my shirt. I carefully pulled my warm sweater off and awkwardly dangled my legs from the side. "A true witch is hard to kill. Hylda thought cutting her throat would do the trick, but nope," Gerwulf turned towards me with a small glass pot in his hand. He opened it and rubbed the salve onto the bite marks. "How do you kill a witch then?" "It's much more gruesome than that. You have to pierce the heart, separate the head, and burn the body. Otherwise they'll just heal. How fast depends on how much damage they take."

, Sarah voiced out in awe, she felt like a feather and so did Fredrick, “This, my dear is the sanctuary of the witch head. No one other than my guests are allowed to come here; you will feel light weighted since you are not a witch”, she explained to them, “In this sanctuary, almost all problems can be solved, you just need to remain extra silent while I meditate”. She formed a circle on the floor with salt and sat in the middle with her feet tucked under her thighs, “What is the salt for?”, Sarah asked again, why were witches so weird?