Banners created by WickedPleasures ©2002 Please, contact for usage restrictions.

Featured Artist (s)
Submission Rules
Artist of the Month
Get the AOM Award          AOM Archives

Site Updates
Sign the Guestbook
View the Guestbook
FAQ
Feedback, Insults and Slander
Site Awards

Back to Main

[ The Indentured - Forward ] [ Welcome - Prose ] [ Parting ] [ The WereCat's Tale ] [ Chapter 1 ] [ Chapter 2  ] [ Chapter 3 ] [ Chapter 4 ] [ Chapter 5  ] [ Chapter 6  ] [  WereCat's Directory  ]

Chapter 2

***The Spell***

Her group had cast their majick circle, done their group spell weaving and gone to the local all-night coffee shop for the usual visit to exchange recipes, stories, children's photos and magical mayhem. But instead of returning home as the rest of her circle had, she returned to the glen and the small building that had been built for storage and ritual preparation. The building was little more than a rest room, bathing pool, windows and a wardrobe for each member of the circle to keep robes, tools, herbs, Ect... It was to here she went first to prepare for her own private spell working. It wasn't that the others would object. They would just want to "help". The circle was like a rather large extended family and like any large family privacy was sometimes a very precious thing. This spell working was for her alone and that is how she wished to cast it. ALONE.

She entered the room and dropped her purse by the door. She pulled one of those long grill lighters from the little pocket on the wall that any of them could find in pitch black and began lighting the ceramic hanging lanterns that were used for light. In a room for this purpose artificial light was more of a harsh distraction than anything else. She turned on the faucet to begin filling the bathing pool. She opened the wardrobe and selected several different jars of herbs. She measured out amounts and combined them in a shallow terra cotta dish before pouring the mixture into a cheesecloth bag and pulling the drawstring closed and with a softly whispered incantation tossed it into the bathing pool. The warm water released the essential oil of the dried herbs and their scents blended and began to fill the air. She pulled open a drawer and removed a thick royal blue towel, hanging it over the wardrobe door while she located her white wool robes and a cotton chemise. She set these on a bench positioned near the pool and once more returned to the wardrobe. She took a hairbrush and a small tin of hair pins and combs from one of the top shelves and placed them on either side of a narrow ledge on the inside of the door above the rows of jars. She placed a mundane silvered mirror in the center of the ledge and undressed before she began piling her hip length mass of hair on top of her head. Perhaps if she had checked the surface of the scrying mirror she kept wrapped in protective blue silk that was also stored in the wardrobe, she might have been warned of the dangers of practicing solitary this night, but she never knew the need to.

She stepped into the bathing pool, sinking down until the herb scented water lapped at the nape of her neck. She breathed deeply, relaxing, trying to clear her mind of anything except the soothing herbal scent and the sound of the water as she lightly rubbed the bath bag over her skin. She concentrated on trying to release her tensions, frustrations and insecurities into the water where they would be sucked down the drain. Once she accomplished as much as she felt she was going to be able to, she squeezed as much of the water from the bath bag as possible and reached up to set it on the bench. She climbed out pulling the chain for the plug as she went. She resisted the urge to watch the water drain away for fear of "calling back" all the negativity that she had just released.

She dried off and slipped the chemise over her head. The feel of the cool cotton only a momentary distraction as she next donned her wool robe and pulled up the hood trying to take care not to snag too many of the pins and combs that still held her hair up and out of her way. The night had a slight breeze and she didn't want to be constantly pushing the auburn mass out of her eyes as she tried to read the incantations out of her book of shadows, a difficult enough task in candlelight with out the added frustration. She picked up the backpack she had earlier prepared and left the shelter of the building for the cool night and the waiting circle of lanterns in the glen her group kept maintained for majickal purposes.

She entered the ring of poles from which hung more of the ceramic lanterns, coloured and marked to correspond with the elements and winds. She set down the backpack next to the alter set permanently at the center of the circle, listening carefully for a moment. Something was strange or so she thought, but the feeling passed so quickly...perhaps it was just the strangeness of practicing alone after so long working with the rest of her group. Yet another warning that she paid no heed to in her naive security. She returned to the task at hand and set up the necessary items on the alter: a small caldron, her athame, the white tapers to represent the God and Goddess, the incense in it's holder, her pentagram and a chalice of wine as her offering. She set the wine skin back in the backpack and with another of the long lighters she walked to the outer ring of poles. She lit each of the lanterns set at the four points of a compass and with softly spoken chant she invited the four winds to witness her working and lend their support to the spell she worked this night. Next, she requested the presence of the five elements, earth, air, fire, water, and spirit, to protect her during her working and lend their power to her majick. She could feel the beginnings of the surge of energy that always came with the spell work. She lit the first of the white tapers. "Blessed be the Goddess". She lit the second. "Blessed be the God". She felt the energy rising like it never had before and vision became slightly out of focus, rather like looking through a pair of dirty glasses. All the lights had halos and there seemed to be an almost imperceptible glow that filled the circle. She continued the spell thinking only that it must be a good sign, that the energy would make the spell that much more effective. She took a sip of the wine and then poured the rest onto the earth as the offering. The glow became slowly more intense as she finished the spell with the phrase "as I will it, so mote it be". She finished the spell to grant her a new beginning, but the forces of nature and majick sometimes have a strange way of granting our wishes.

The glow suddenly became so intense as to be truly painful. She let out a scream of absolute terror. Not because of the light, but because along with the light came a feeling she had never experienced before. She felt as if she no longer had a physical form of any kind. She felt absolutely nothing, no balance, no top or bottom, nothing at all to hold on to. Then as suddenly as it started, it stopped and although she still couldn't visually focus she knew she was standing, a bit wobbly, but standing. At least she was momentarily, before she felt something catch a her throat and hard pressure against her neck before a moist blast followed and she fell unconscious to the floor, not even noticing that the floor was no longer the growing spring earth it had been. Rather, it was hard, smooth, cool and quite artificial.

InternetUnderground
GothicUnderworld.com
SinfulGothic.com
Gothic.net
Immortelle.org
GothFox.com
Vampress.net
GothicSluts.com
GothicRose.com
Shattered-Roses.org
DigitalDarkness.net
DarkLinks.com
DarkArena.com
UrbanChillers.com
Death'N Dementia.com
LifeIsHell.de
A Darker Shade of Bleaux
Dark Dream Dolls
7Deadly.com
DarkDesires
GothWorks.com
Goth.net
SubKultures.net
MagicWave
NightRose.com
AmIEvil.com

Want to add your site? Contact WickedPleasures.