Cleansing Witchcraft Novels & Stories

“I don’t know how you probably do it around here, but I’m handling a lot, and I need you to understand. I’ve slated the cleansing ritual to begin in the next three days. I’m sure you understand.” I nodded, a loose tension tightening within me. “Of course I understand. And we do have a couple of outstanding trials waiting for us, so I suggest we should just get this over with.” The witch doesn’t nod, so I looked away from him, letting my gaze land on elder Rhys. He smiled back and nodded, the smile not quite reaching his eyes. “Of course, we should get this overwith, yes.” He nodded and rose. “We should take our leave now, Alpha.”

“Tomorrow is the Sabbath. The inner circle, the coven, gathers on the Sabbath. You should join us. It will enable us to talk more freely, and to discuss learning and rituals that might assist you.” “Okay,” Aislen nodded. “Thank you, I’d like that.” “Blessed be, sister.” Aislen edged into the group on the porch, embarrassed to ask to join, but she found her inclusion immediate, with one of the sage-wielding witches immediately focusing on her. “Oh, sister,” she murmured. “You are very overdue a good cleansing.” “I’ve never had one done,” Aislen admitted. “I’m not sure what to do.”

As with most things, the only way to have him punished was to get proof and the only way to get proof was to either catch him red-handed or would be if Mane Aya told us everything that he had done and was doing, not only to her but to the rest of the Pride. With this thought going through my head I sigh as I can feel that my Magick is stable but it isn’t quite back to full strength and even an easy and the smallest of spells would drain my Magick too much. Normally after doing such a draining spell, a Witch would have to spend at least a couple weeks immersed and cleansing themselves within their coven Magicks. However, since my Grandmothers coven is one of the highest, most powerful and res

My hands shook as I pulled the ancient grimoire from my satchel. The leather cover pulsed faintly, as if aware of what I was about to do. He followed me in, his voice low, dangerous. “Don’t even think about using that book.” “Do you have another idea?” I snapped. “Because if not, you need to let me work.” His wolf flashed in his eyes, silver and bright. “It almost killed you last time.” “And it’ll kill them if I don’t.” I flipped the pages, scanning the sigils until I found one marked in red wax. My mother’s warning was scrawled beside it: To cleanse corruption, the vessel must become the filter.

Flickering candles lined the edges of the circle, their flames dancing in rhythm with the whispers of the wind. Seraphina stood at the altar, her hands hovering over the five amulets spread before her. Her eyes were closed in deep concentration, her lips moving in silent incantation. Behind her, her coven of witches moved in unison, each of them chanting in an ancient language, their voices blending into a haunting harmony that seemed to resonate with the power of the amulets.

The smell is usually comforting, but right now it’s making me feel sick. Tabatha sets a white candle on either side of the nightstand and ignites them with magic. She moves to the foot of the bed and holds out a quartz crystal wand. “Powers of North, South, East and West, I call on you with this request. Remove the evil in the space, and leave good fortune in its place.” As she speaks, a sharp pain starts in my wrist. When she holds up the crystal, my arm starts to tingle.

"We must be certain this is truly from the Goddess. That it hasn't been influenced." "Influenced how?" Riven's voice had an edge now. "There are ways to manufacture desire. Potions, spells, manipulation." Fear spiked through me but I kept my face neutral. "I haven't done anything like that." "Of course not." Athena's tone was soothing. "I'm merely being thorough. The cleansing ritual will reveal the truth." My voice came out barely above a whisper. "Cleansing ritual?" "Standard practice for unusual bonds. We invoke the Goddess's presence, ask for her blessing and clarity."

Some say, the werewolves learned magic through the books left behind from the witches. Vastria then came across a book about moon phases. She opened the book to the section of the full moon. It introduces the phases of the moon. In witchcraft, the moon signifies cleansing and is often used for rituals. The moonlight itself radiates pure cleaning energy. The energy is used to power up a witch for positive energy in time of need. The best time is during a full moon when the spiritual energy is at its fullest.

She treated it like a guest that needed to be acknowledged before it could leave. After a moment, she reached under the counter and pulled out a small glass bottle filled with coarse pink salt and dried rose petals. “What’s that?” “Cleansing salt. You crumble it into a bath, light two candles, and soak. It pulls out the rot. Clears the psychic gunk. Especially from family wounds.” “Psychic gunk,” I repeated, almost smiling. “Don’t mock the terminology. It’s a technical term.” I looked at the bottle, but I shook my head.

“Places. Stories. The cabin. The shrine. The things people will point to and say, ‘That’s where the witch lived.’ I don’t want some eager idiot trying to dig up what’s left of her just because the stones still smell like her name.” He was quiet for a moment. “Fair,” he said at last. “What are you thinking?” “Small ritual,” I said. “Less ‘appease the witch,’ more ‘salt the earth.’ Burn the last cursed objects. Cleanse the shrine. Mark the cabin as forbidden ground.” “Symbolic,” he murmured. “Psychologically necessary,” I corrected. “For them.” I jerked my chin toward the window, where wolves moved through the courtyard. “And for me.”