Wizards Potions Novels & Stories

Her eyes narrowed as she observed Seraphina’s intent focus. The scrolls in question contained spells for elemental magic, the kind that most witches learned in their early years of training. They were basic, elemental spells—fire, water, earth, and air. Spells that were fundamental, taught to all witches as part of their foundational education. Nothing particularly unusual or incriminating. Isolde’s brow furrowed as she continued to watch Seraphina. It was clear that her suspicions had shifted from Seraphina being a potential saboteur. She was, it seemed, just another witch going about her magical studies.

"For you to go to my territory. "You are not a monster" I said because I felt it... I have the ability to know if a creature is a monster based on their energy. It only failed with that girl because I couldn't feel any energy coming from her. "That's true because I'm a Mage— a sorcerer," the old man replied, who was pulled back by my soldiers. Because people are more afraid of witches. The mage has the power like a god... but has the heart of a demon. I immediately pointed the blade of my weapon at the old mage "Then it's not our god you worship..." I shouted then quickly attacked but someone blocked my sword... the girl with orange eyes, like a lightning flaming weapon suddenly appeared in

, Ntate Mogoadi thought to himself. After listening to her story of a messed up marriage, Ntate Mogoadi gave her three folded papers with brown powders in them. With incantations in between Ntate Mogoadi gave her orders on how to use the medication. He sent her off with the an assurance that her marriage would be restored after following the orders he gave her.

Described as the power of witchery and sorcery, he asked church leaders to stand fast against it. Saducismus Triumphatus was the first to reference a spell capsule called the Witch's Bottle. They also knew it as a Bottled Spell. Made from clay, glass, or stone, it was counter-divination. It was protection against other covens, curses, and hexes. These bottles could contain nails, the urine of the victim, and thorns. They often filled them with hair, menstrual blood, wine, and bone. However, the spells in the bottle would only work if kept hidden and intact.

I nodded my head at the direction of the table. Morgana glanced at me and at the bowl. She picked up the bowl and smiled at me. "It's a porridge potion." She answered and I arched my brows in confusion. "What's that for?" "I made it specially for you." She stirred the content in the bowl. I peered into the bowl. The so called portion was a sticky white substance. I bet it'd be better as hell. "I think you being a weak power carrier made you vulnerable to Sage's attacks. Hence, I made it for you. It'll heal you from the internal injuries his powers might have caused and this will also strengthen you." She told me and stopped stirring.

My hand drifts toward one of the volumes. The title alone makes me draw back. The History of Witches and Warlocks. I nearly drop it. Such books are forbidden within these walls, condemned as dangerous, heretical. Even Father, stern though he was, would never have permitted one in his library. How then is it here, in the attic, with others like it? For when I look again, I see more titles lined along the shelf and strewn upon the table. The Book of Spells and Witchcraft. Witches and Courts: The Battle. Battle of Magic. Witches and Their Origin.

“How do you know? Because that’s what Fergodo and I know.” “So really, Fergodo is developing a certain potion formula?” “True, the potion is of two kinds. First is a decoction to accelerate wound healing fastly. Then the second potion is a potion to ... to turn something into a monster.” Zetoma widened her eyes, looking at King Darian. He didn’t believe it. Their great, gentle, and wise King had such a terrifying idea. Queenie looked at her father with cold eyes and a face. The girl was too cold to show a specific expression on her face.

I drank it all in one swift movement. Jason, I wouldn't beg for your love again. I was going to love myself. So… Why are you the one who ended up regretting it? ... I looked at the crystal vial in my hand. The pale, pink liquid shimmered inside, giving off a scent that was both mesmerizing and dangerous. This was the legendary Love Potion, the forbidden magic of our world of Werewolves. Drink it, and the target would have "love" etched deep into their soul for seven years.

I place a handful of dried Mugwort into the cauldron followed by a handful of dried Lemon Balm, Hibiscus, and Wormwood, I watch as each ingredient changes the colour of the water. I give that a small stir before I add some of Skylar’s Succubus venom and then give it another slow gentle stir until the water returns to clear, I then pull out about 2 dozen small vials. I fill each vial with the finished clear potion and place them in a holding container.

“Have you got your own druidic wand?” “A what?” I answered swiftly. “It is an object we use to enhance the spell of potion we are working on.” Aerin stood up and sauntered over to the table, she started drawing on a piece of paper that Grandma Rose handed to her. “It is called a Druid rod or wand. It is made from Hazel, with herbal clay worked around it and embellished with crystals.” She drew a staff-like wand. “It has to touch the thing that it was directed at with the crystal at the top.”