A Tale Of Magic Novels & Stories

ISABELLE’S POV I flip the page of the book with the help of my left hand. The name of the book which I am currently reading is “The tales of Ash Ville”. It is a nice book and it includes the horror stories of the town. It is a fictional book but I like it and has captured my attention. I found this in the library a few weeks back and I thought to read it. Today I saw it in the books which I had not read so I decided to read this one.

“This one is a collection of magical folktales.” “Thank you.” I settled into one of the deep armchairs near the window, legs tucked beneath me, book open on my lap. The stories were charming at first, about a clever djinn, star-crossed lovers, and talking camels, but midway through, a restless hunger gnawed at my stomach that had nothing to do with food. “Mirabelle, could you get me something to snack on?” I called softly. “Maybe fruit, or those little almond pastries if they’re fresh?”

Every story has a beginning, some good, some bad, mine has never been a happy one, no matter who, or how I tell it, nobody will believe me. I can't rely on the people in my life, My parents ignore me, or are cruel to me, my friends are unreliable, and aren't trustworthy either. So what happens when I turn 16 years old, and run away from my problems to another world, only to find myself in the same magical world I played make belief in as a kid? With heartbreak at every turn, and a possible new relationship on the horizon, what could possibly go wrong in this world that hasn't happened to me on Earth?!

Elaine spoke the words down into the glass; the magic seemed to hear her, and as she gave a tug, the lid lifted. The book beneath the glass peered through Elaine. The volumes’ binding was smooth leather, and the stitching was gold. Long, smooth letters were intricately painted across the front, and her hand brushed them softly. It was the most precious book in the world. Reaching down, she pulled it out and flipped to the page she desired. There it was in thick black letters, the word luck. The pages of the book were filled with names and places, a guide to every gifted being in the land. It was centuries old and was only written on by the top magistrate himself, the king’s second in command

The girl is gorgeous until she sneers at me, her eyes looking me up and down. "Watch where you are going!" She shouts in the most dramatic way possible. "And what are you wearing? If you are a student, you need to wear the color of your house. Aren't you sorted yet?" "Sorted?" I ask. Two other girls are glaring at me from behind the blonde girl, clearly her little minions. They all wear the same blue cheerleading clothes, and blondie got pointy ears—definitely Fae. "At Magic Academy, there are four houses; each one represents an element—as you can see, we all belong in the house of water. It values beauty, but beauty doesn't seem important to you since you're wearing those clothes."

Tonya was winking as they closed in on him, she knew. Thaddeus smirked also, his plan worked out perfectly. They soon meet and began walking together, their voices stopped the croacking toads in the damp corners. And then the ringing of the Cathedrals bells drowned their voices out. The swans in the river paid no attention to these hourly chimes. The silver moon, however, took notice of the tunes of the bell and rose from behind the traveling clouds to light up the sky and send silver ripples across the Isis as the rain began to fall.

He growled, retreating back as the deadly flames grew; burning their way down the winding halls. The pain increased suddenly, the brutal and untamed agony more than Elika could bear; her ear-piercing screams assaulting all those who resided within Hades mansion. Clenching her fists as she withered and bucked on the ground, the princess attempted to stop whatever ability it was that coursed through her veins; fearful that if it continued it would only kill her. Minutes, hours, perhaps even days passed before the unnatural and putrid fire began to recede; the magical blue aura fading into a slight glow. Just as it had began. Though what had it been? Where had the fire come from? Was this yet a

Eleanor’s POV My heart skipped a beat as I spotted a book bound in black leather. Gold letters on the cover proudly declared its title: "Mastery of Magic." A shiver ran down my spine as I opened it, scanning its pages for any guidance on the powers that had both blessed and troubled me. There, written in simple and clear words, was a guide on how to control the very magic that now felt like a wild force within me. A surge of hope filled my heart. This book might be the key to mastering my gifts, to unlocking the secrets of my magic and understanding my past.

she sat at the pile of fake rings and started filling all her ten fingers. “It was dark, then it was bright, then dark again. There’s a slide, weeeeee, and then it was dark again. Then the fairy took a big rock and smash it on the floor and black stars appeared. It’s magic,” she told her story animatedly. I saw Dem rolled his eyes in boredom but there’s his origin story right there. With a little mystic powers and romance, it will surely hit the market like a comet from the outer space.

I inhale sharply. Whoever cast this… They weren’t merely powerful, they were brilliant. Layer upon layer of enchantment folds over itself so seamlessly that even another witch might walk past without noticing. I close my eyes again. The world around me disappears. Only the spell remains. I don’t attack it. That would be a mistake. Power answers power, violence answers violence. No… Magic has a language. Every spell tells a story. Every enchantment leaves fingerprints. I simply begin reading. Slowly.