Evanoir

When love feels like magic… maybe it’s because it is.



Elior is a soft-spoken young mage from a secluded forest village where emotions literally shape spells. He’s sent to the city’s Grand Academy of Magic as part of a rare exchange program. But while he can conjure flowers from snow and light from silence, he struggles with one thing: connecting with people.

Enter Kael, a bright, sarcastic, and wildly popular top-ranking elemental mage who sees magic as nothing more than a weapon. When Elior’s shy spells misfire during training, Kael is assigned to tutor him.

What begins as an awkward mentorship slowly turns into something beautiful: Kael finds himself enchanted by the warmth of Elior’s presence, while Elior begins to unravel the guarded pain Kael hides beneath his confident grin. Together, they begin to discover that magic fueled by love is the most powerful kind of all.

But the kingdom is threatened by a mysterious “Emotion Plague” that turns feelings into curses—and only mages with bonded hearts can stop it.

Can two boys who’ve never truly belonged find a home in each other’s arms—and heal a kingdom with the magic of love?

Spellwoven

He didn't even shimmer or sparkle like usual.

He just stood there, dusk wrapping around him like a velvet cloak, and said:

> "You haven't awakened it yet, Elias. Because the true enemy hasn't awakened either."

Elias frowned. "So I'm just... a magical time bomb?"

Elroin almost smiled. "No. You're the key. The lock. And the fuse."

Then Elroin placed a hand on his shoulder—solid, warm, fleeting.

> "You won't be alone. But beware: even the power you carry must learn to trust."

With that, he vanished into the wind.

Kael woke up in a hallway that hadn't existed the night before.

Stone walls. Floating torches. A sign that read:

> "TRIAL OF SUSTENANCE. If ye survive, breakfast shall be granted."

Japer poked his head in from another corridor. "I got a 'Trial of Sarcastic Comments.' I passed. Barely."

Kael groaned. "Let me guess: Elias's magic?"

The hallway answered by collapsing behind him.

Then a flying muffin whizzed past and screamed:

> "BETRAY HIM AND FACE THE CONSEQUENCES!"

Kael fought through enchanted pastries (don't ask), walls that whispered Elias's name like a mantra, and a butter golem that bit back.

He reached the center chamber sweaty, bruised, and holding a slightly singed cinnamon scone.

Elias blinked at him from a floating chair in the middle.

Kael tossed the scone at him. "Your subconscious did."

Day Two: The Room of Brutal Affection

Kael walked into his room and was greeted by:

All from Elias's ancestral spirits.

> "He didn't hold your hand during that one magical flare. Sus."

> "He doesn't floss. That speaks of deeper betrayal."

> "He looked at you sideways yesterday. We are ready to smite."

Kael tore one open. "Is this... violent love language?!"

Suddenly the window shattered and a voice boomed:

> "FINAL TEST: DEFEND YOUR HONOR... IN THE ANCESTRAL ARENA."

Elias, kicking down the door: "WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO HIM?!"

Kael (dodging magical arrows): "YOUR SPELLWEAVE HAS TRUST ISSUES."

Imagine a coliseum built by dramatic ghosts.

Statues of Elias's great-grandparents loomed overhead, glowing eyes tracking every movement.

Kael stood at the center, shirt slightly torn, holding a flaming sword made of questionable symbolism.

Elias appeared beside him, hair crackling with residual magic, shouting:

A ghostly ancestor in the judge's booth yelled, "HE'S NOT WORTHY YET!"

Another added, "HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW YOUR FAVORITE FLOWER!"

Elias shouted back, "It's lavender, you nosy undead cabbage!"

Kael, bleeding a little: "I knew that!"

They were teleported back to Elias's bedroom.

"I fought sentient ghosts... to prove I like you."

"You didn't have to," Elias whispered, sitting beside him.

Kael side-eyed him. "You sure? Because I also got cursed by a judgmental flower pot."

"I trust you. Even if the power doesn't yet. It's still... tangled. Scared."

"Sure. As long as there's no more muffin combat."

Chapter Twenty-One: “The Loyalty Trials (You Might Die, Sorry )”