Novel & Cerita Taglock Witchcraft

I tell him as much and rather than appear relieved, his body prickles with worry. "What about you?" His voice is demanding. "Don't you need protecting?" This spell, I explain, can only be done with by another initiated witch, and without another one here, "I'm afraid it won't work." "Let me try anyway," Rudy requests. "I'm not a witch, but my great-grandfather held a spark." I laugh. "You and half the alpha-level wolves in Crescent City, Beta Forrester." His expression darkens, "Even if I put intention behind it. I've heard the intention is more important than the power itself."

They may not help with my hair, but they might help with this. After a half hour of messing with the lock however, I gave up in disgust, cursing my luck to another mystery about this old house I may never solve. I sat down on top of the locker and my hand rested on the top, where suddenly, swirls of light blossomed out. A trinity knot formed under my palm and knot work encased the edge of the lid. Within the knotwork, letters began to flow in old script. “When she, born of the moonless night, be bound by powers three; four blood moons endure. Part wolf, part witch, the huntress she shall be. When Mo Anam Cara is bound, remember our roots and speak truth and love.”

Krys explained, the fearsome look on her face told me there was more she wasn't telling me. I looked over to Agatha, our pack's oldest and head witch. She stood closely, aiding Tilda, our pack's healer, who tended to my mate. I rescued Agatha at the brink of death when witch hunters invaded her home, killing her whole family and coven. Ever since then she swore to serve me till her death, her occult knowledge in spells like; hoodoo, voodoo, sacrificial magic, representational magic and arts of necromancy were very helpful to the pack.

A mark used by witches to claim or curse. And now it had been found where my daughter vanished. A knock came at the door, sharp and urgent. I didn’t even need to ask who it was. “Come in,” I said. Lara stepped inside, her expression tight with concern. She wasn’t just our best healer—she was a scholar, a historian, and one of the few in the pack with knowledge of the arcane. If anyone could make sense of what we’d found, it was her. “I got Dalton’s message,” she said, wasting no time. “He sent me a sketch of the sigil. I’ve seen it before.”

Trent's father inhaled deeply and then said to the boy: "you can leave now, son. The beginning of the ceremony is now." Trent stepped out, the door shutting with a click behind him. After a while the door opened with a creak and the witch walked in. Besides the herbs that she had brought along with her, the talismans around her neck made very soft sounds which were almost inaudible. She had in her other hand a wooden bowl, the contents of which were black roots, strange herbs, and vials of liquid that were shining. Trent's father pointed to the bed. "He is ready."

This particular spell could only be used by high priestesses and only a high priestess more powerful than the one that casted the spell could see her or undo it. Elder Lazarus was not a witch, he did not have our blood and he was a full-fledged wolf. I was sure of this so how was this possible?

More precisely, a witch who looked like she'd just been dragged out of bed—silver-white braid half undone, purple robe on inside out, two buttons misaligned at the collar, one foot in a boot and the other in a slipper. Her eyes were puffy as walnuts, and she was still grumbling under her breath. "…Dragging someone out of a hot spring in the middle of the night… my herbal bath essence is still soaking…" She spotted me, yawned, then went serious for exactly half a second. "The Bond-Lock Elixir does permanently lock a mate bond. Conventional methods cannot break it. I brewed it myself, and I stake my name as a witch on it." Then she yawned again.

I asked. “This is a Witch bane. Bathe by the Zerzura liquid that weakens witches when struck by it. It is our primary weapon son, especially higher-level Witches called the Magistrates. The lower-level witches are called the Acolytes, they are weaker in using their black magic crafting. They live among us and we cannot detect them if we do not have our Moonstar pendants. We have a few in this town and I have not seen one for a year of searching. Do you remember the dead physics teacher, Mr. Bennet?”

I also noticed the symbol of a pentagram carved into the wooden floorboards, a sign of a magic circle that witch's uses to cast powerful spells. I also saw a small alter with candle and ritual tools like athame, chalice and wand on it, a sign of dedication to some specific deities or energies that she invoked during her spellwork and other things I couldn't explain myself. "It's going to be a very strong fight Alpha" she said lastly as I turned and faced her. "Why Davina? can't we just get the children back?" I asked as she shooked her head. "Why? Because the Hollow is back".

The magic within that locket was immensely powerful, not to be handled by a mere witch. It was the locket of doom, and only the most powerful witch of the century could unlock it on her 25th birthday. The incantations to unlock it were known to all, but anyone other than the chosen one who dared to use it would meet their demise. Everyone stayed away from it.