Romans & histoires Witchcraft Guide

Kristy and I join hands, holding up our free hands and pointing them at the tree. “Invoco elementum terrae,” Kristy starts. “Invoco elemuntum aeris.” I feel the power rush through me. “Invoco elemuntum aqua.” “Invoco elemuntum ignis.” A door starts to appear in the old tree. I let go of Kristy’s hand to retrieve an athame from my belt. We each need to shed a drop of blood, so the door knows who is trying to open it. I’ve watched too many witches cut their hands or their fingers doing this and all I can think is rookie.

I took another peek into the basket. She was right. Hidden beneath the bag of salt and chalk laid an array of smallish, clear crystals. Sungul continued, “Once a familiar appears, you’ll give them a crystal.” As I skimmed over the paper that held the spell, Sungul carried on, “You need to remember that you have to stay concentrated during this. Breaking that concentration before offering the crystal would mean breaking the link. You’ll have to start all over again.” “Well….” I trailed off quietly with an exasperated huff. I never knew how much work it took to summon a familiar. “Does it matter which crystal I use?”

The question now was, what do I do? “I can make sure they come this way, by using a spell to subconsciously guide them to our location.” One of the brothers of Kyra spoke. If I remembered correctly his name was Zac. I could tell he was a God or part God, but I was pretty sure he was some sort of witch or something. I was impressed with how quickly he had worked to get the wolves to connect with each other again. I didn’t know what had caused them to not be able to do so, but it had still been impressive to see him work. I watched as everyone began to gather, getting into position. Kyra was working alongside her brothers and Caleb to make sure everyone was ready.

He could feel the slight pain left in her shoulder and an excitement that was not his. She held her hands out in front of her chest and closed her eyes. Mistress Caldwell explained what Tyko was doing as she helped to focus and guide the process. He noticed the druids had been replaced by a couple of witches who were whispering rapidly towards Tyko and Mistress Caldwell with their hands extended. He felt a strange tug and surge as something started to form between Tyko’s hands. It grew to just a little larger than a nickel before Tyko relaxed and Mother Caldwell reached out and took it from the air between her hands.

George wasn't liking my idea at all. “A little difficult? How about you try impossible.” He stood, paced in the living room for a while and sunk back to a seat. “Look, there are many unwritten rules here at Woodhidge, one of which is that Supernaturals don't help each other if we are not of the same nature.” “So you are telling that you think there's no way we could convince three or four witches to help me out.” I asked, hoping the answer would be only half disheartening.

“Yes. But it will not be easy. Remember this: magic can guide, but it cannot compel desire. Wolves are proud creatures. Alphas more so. You must ignite what already exists—or create it within yourself.” I nodded slowly, my hands shaking as I accepted the vial. The perfume smelled faintly of wildflowers and moonlight, an intoxicating fragrance that immediately made my senses tingle. It seemed almost alive. Almost aware. “Now,” the witch continued, “prepare yourself. Follow my instructions exactly, and the ritual will succeed. But one misstep… and there will be consequences you cannot imagine. Do you understand?” “Yes,” I whispered, clutching the vial tightly. My entire body trembled, a mixtur

“Too much of it. Until you learn control, you are a danger to yourself and others. We must start small.” She began pacing, explaining as she went. “Each witch has a gift, a strand of the great weave. Seeing the future. Speaking to the dead. Brewing potions. Crafting charms. In rare lines, creation, nature, fire, water, air. Never more than one. Not since the Originals.” Aria listened carefully taking in everything she had to say.

The witch said finally. She met my gaze resolutely. "It would be possible if the wolf marked and mated with their true mate." Xavier was Astrud's true mate and to make matters worse their rejection had not been finalized. What if something happened and… Fuck no! This could not happen! I gripped the witch by her arm. "You must find a way to guide them out of the swamp as fast as possible." She smiled at me deviously. "You will owe me a favor." I nodded. I didn't care. I would do anything to prevent it from happening.

And before I am the Weeping Woman, crying. "I'm so sorry," she dropped to the floor and cried. "I just…I just wanted my Tomas back. I want Tomas back." Viola weeps. I sighed and looked at Zayn, who reached inside his cloak and handed me a chalk. I went to an empty wall and drew a rectangular door and characters representing runes. I placed my hand on the wall and closed my eyes as I spoke the ancient tongue of the witches before me. A warm, tingling feeling against my hand meant the magic was a success.

He drops the satchel beside the altar. Inside it, the ritual components wait. Everything he’d stolen, bartered, bled for. Arwan unrolls the cloth and begins. Salt. Bone dust. A single black feather. One fingernail from a wolf. One tooth from a man. A sliver of silver so pure it burns his fingertips. The sorcerer doesn’t ask for simple things. His hand shakes slightly as he slices across his palm. Blood drips, thick and reluctant, into the center of the altar. The symbols carved into its surface begin to pulse faintly, as if breathing.