روايات وقصص ضمن How To Spell Blood With Your Hands

All I had to do was light it and get started, which I did. "Venez sanguis. Venez sanguis, Venus sangria la force de la beta â moi" I chanted, closing my eyes tightly. Even when I did not know what the spell was about, I could not control my tongue. I gathered some blood from God knows and directed in my direction. "Sanguis Sanguis" I chanted repeatedly, making the blood splash on the mirror. The mirror brightened up a bit with blurry figures. I chanted harder as the figures became clearer.

I say. "My king, the spell is a dark spell and...." "And?" "Your blood will be needed" I take out my dagger and make a cut across my palm. Without hesitation, I tighten my injured hand into a fist directly above the bowl and blood begins to trickle into the bowl. "There. Now can we begin?" "O-of course, your majesty" ****

I spoke to the crowd but never took my eyes off of my prey, circling him as I spoke. Without another word I bent my left knee back so that the heel of my shoe brushed against my dress. I lowered my left hand to grasp the heel, gripping it as hard as I could before yanking my hand back to my chest, thoroughly slicing my palm open as planned. I repeated the action with my right side as everyone stood there silently observing. Old man Caldwell hadn't said anything else, but I could feel his glare on me as he seethed with rage. Still, I put my index and middle fingers together, and slid them over the open wounds on the opposite palm, coating them in my own blood before sliding them down my foreh

He aggressively takes my hand and puts it on his hand, then grabs my other hand and also places it with my other hand. 'Now! Or you will go a week without any food!' he threatens. I stare down at my hands, covered in his blood. I don't know how to do it. Not sure what to do, I entwine my fingers through his, making him flinch from the sparks. The room remains silent as I stare intently at our hands, my hair begins to rise, and my hands begin to glow as my eyes become a bright silver. The warmth I felt earlier flows through my body again.

All I have to do based on what Keyla told me was to give some drops of my blood. I cut out a hand open using a knife from her choice, the bleed some drops of blood. The moment the few drops chouses the ground, they extend to be more than just a few drops. The blood on the ground shape makes a sign that I've never seen before, the mark surrounded the candles and the pool.

My hands trembled as I took the parchment in both hands and fixed my eyes on the spell. I felt a strange force embrace me. Its warmth clung to my skin and sank into my blood. Perhaps it should have scared me, but it didn't. It felt almost… familiar. I looked at the parchment again, and suddenly, the words began to make sense. I recited them, and each note heated the blood in my veins. In my peripheral vision, I saw Aeron standing with his mouth wide open and his eyes filled with shock. It must have looked odd to him, but to me, using this power seemed as natural as breathing. I finished the spell and reached for the knife strapped to my thigh. Then I stepped toward the shore, made a cut acro

I recite, thankful I hadn’t messed up on the passage Harriet had given me in advance. As I finish my outspoken commitment, I feel thankful that the most challenging part is now out the way. While Harriet continues with the final verses, I stand silently as she chants the Latin verse that follows, needed to complete the remainder of the spell. Before she finishes, she nods for Elijah to join my side before repeating the same action as she slices open his hand once more. He holds his hand above the gold bowl in front of us, allowing a few drops of blood to merge alongside my own amidst the sickly appearing concoction before Harriet sets it alight.

But knowing what to do and actually doing it were two very different things. “Sanguis Memoria,” the spell was called. Blood Memory. The instructions were written in my mother's elegant handwriting, clear and precise: “To see the truth locked within blood, one must offer a piece of themselves in exchange. Blood calls to blood. Memory calls to memory. What you seek, you shall see, but beware, for once witnessed, the vision cannot be unseen. The memories contained in blood are not mere images but lived experiences. You will not simply observe what happened, you will feel it, taste it, live it as if you were there. This magic demands a piece of your soul in payment. Use it wisely, for each time

She relayed the message, and with the way Jax's eyes widened as he looked at me, I knew he got it. "With both of your blood in this bowl, mixed together, and this ring on my middle finger, where it belongs, I will be able to reverse the spell." She uttered, staring into space as if she were drawing a picture of how it was going to go down. Silas nicked Jax's vein along his neck, drawing blood. My mother moved forward and tilted Jax, making blood drip into the bowl. Once she was done, they walked over to me on the opposite side. Again, Silas was instructed to make a small cut, but on my palm. He did so, while my mother allowed my blood to drip onto the bowl.

Mason said. "Yes but it's for a good cause." I said. "I'll start." I said and took the knife. I made a cut in my palm and I poured some blood into the bowl on the table. I passed the knife and everyone else did the same. I then mixed the herbs in. I took a deep breathe. "Now I need you all to repeat after me. " I said. "Estrigo Tespela Estila... Now remember we all have to keep our hands together at all times until the spell is complete.