Morgiana Magi Novels & Stories

And as Morrigan walks near Frey the air in the room suddenly turned cold. Morrigan stood in front of Frey at a safe distance, pulled the ribbon that is tying her hair, and let the braids unravel themselves, letting her hair fall like water finally able to come back the stream to live. Frey shivered as a cold breeze touches her skin as she take a better look at the young lady standing tall in front of her. Her back is straight, her elbows folded in perfection as she plays with the ring on her thumb as her hands rest in the middle of her torso. Morrigan gave her a soft smile. "You are right. I am from Hymir, and that I am from a powerful family. My family's name could be heard everywhere in ou

We were unstoppable together, our connection giving us strength, our love fueling our fight. But even as we fought, I could feel the dark presence of Morgana drawing closer. The air grew thick with her magic, a heavy, oppressive weight that seemed to suffocate everything in its path. And then, she appeared. Morgana stood at the edge of the battle, her eyes glowing with an eerie, unnatural light. Her hair, once dark and regal, now seemed to shimmer with a dark aura, like an extension of her twisted power. She raised her hand, and the earth trembled beneath our feet.

Morgana explained with a sad smile on her face. I wondered why she looked sad despite the smile. Her smile didn't reach her eyes. "Who did this?" Sage asked with squinted eyes. "Cause I'm sure this isn't a thing back at the kingdom. This is related to black magic." He frowned. "Yeah, it isn't a thing in our world since it's a spell." Morgana shrugged. "But someone went extra miles to protect the people." "That must be Mila." Sage said. "She never grows up. The risk is huge." He complained.

He is the Dragon King and one of the founding council members alongside Asteria. “After what happened with you when you were younger, we put tracking on every minor, but somehow we can’t track them. Morgana is growing stronger, and if what she did today is anything to go by, it won’t be long until she is at full strength.” I look at the picture of the young girl. I close my eyes as I begin to think. When I smile. Xena is one of the strongest witches in the world.

“What a useless display this is.” The tone was biting, filled with disdain. All eyes turned toward the woman standing near the front, a tall figure dressed in dark violet robes that shimmered faintly with traces of magic. Her long, silver hair cascaded down her back, and her eyes glowed faintly red under the dim lights. I recognized her immediately, even I knew of her reputation. She was Morgana, leader of the strongest coven of witches. A woman feared even among her own kind. “If this is what passes as a crucial discourse in an important gathering now,” she said, her lips curling in mockery, “then I see no reason to stay. If none of you are going to take things seriously, my coven will pull

“I don’t mind.” “Morgana is a lovely name. Of course, it immediately brings to mind Fata Morgana, or Morgan Le Fay, Morgan the Fairy,” Sigrid replied using the pestle and mortar to crush herbs into the rock salt she had located. “Many people connect Morgan Le Fay to the Morrigan through the goddess Modron, of course, the Divine Mother. Many of the tales of both echo each other and so it occurs to me that our mother is given a different face and name by each person that worships her, none truly knowing her real name. So, Morgana is a wonderful name, don’t you think?”

“The Fae queen?” She didn’t seem fazed by our shock, her gaze unyielding as she continued, her voice carrying the weight of untold suffering. “My people were cast out of our homeland and captured by Morgan, also known as the Queen of Darkness.” I gasped, my mind immediately flashing back to the warnings I had heard. “You mean the queen we’ve been warned about?” My eyes widened, disbelief rising in me. “Yes,” she confirmed, her voice tight with sorrow. Morgan is the epitome of evil. She takes, destroys, and drains everything—life, hope, magic.

The pack members exchanged glances, recognizing the urgency of addressing Elvie's condition. Morgana approached Elvie, her movements purposeful as she initiated a mystical incantation. "Elvie, daughter of the moon, let the veils that bind you be lifted. Return to the essence that defines you." The room became a canvas for the interplay of supernatural forces as Morgana's spell unfolded. A gentle energy enveloped Elvie, and the unnatural calmness that gripped her began to wane. The transformation, a delicate dance between magic and destiny, unfolded as Elvie's true self emerged from the shadows.

I staggered, caught by Damon. “Morgana?” Mordecai’s face had gone pale. “That’s impossible. She died twenty years ago.” “Who is Morgana?” I demanded. “Your mother’s sister,” Maren said quietly. “Your aunt. She was exiled for forbidden experiments involving bonding wolves against their will. The Council sentenced her to death, but she disappeared before the execution could be carried out.”

I don’t know if he will be able to since he’s bonded with her. I spot her from a distance, dressed in black with a crimson robe, her blonde hair falling down her back in long curls, and I can see the sickly yellow glow of her eyes from where I stand. Morganna sees us approaching, and with a flick of her wrist, a familiar-looking beast appears at her side: one that looks exactly like the beast Caterina summoned on the night she took out Westcott’s vamp lair.