By moonrise I’m back in my room at the Clairmont's quaint white picket fence house, drawing back the curtains as I unload my alter items from my wooden chest that I carry wherever I travel. Just in time to ready for tonight and all I need to prepare, despite being weary from walking around all day. I have to do this every month when the moon comes full circle again and I feel like this time is long overdue.
I move to cover the table by the window under the light of the moon with a black velvet cloth to absorb the rays. My carved wooden trinket box, engraved with a pentagram, filled with my healing stones and runes that have travelled with me for a lifetime are laid to the left. My crystal ball, more of a sentimental keepsake from a Roma witch I met some hundred years ago and holds a modicum of gypsy magic is laid to the right. A black candle and a white for balance, both steeped in rose water and oil before burning, are laid to the back, standing tallest. My moon stone is placed in the centre of the table, between everything I need to charge from the light and set the spell in motion. It’s my anchor piece.
My current Grimoire, a leather-bound spell book of my travels and rituals that I’m filling up, engraved with a matching pentagram for protection, from those who would take it, is laid near the front, closest to me. A bowl of rock salt for purification, a shallow rustic wooden bowl of soil for earth, for the elements of nature. The wind in the form of the breeze from the open window before me and now blowing the flickering flames gently. The goblet, pure silver, and tall, marked with the triple moon symbol is filled with water to dignify all of the oceans and rivers of the world, yet also as a weapon against a vast number of immortals. My own personal pendant is last to grace the table, fitted in the space between my grimoire and goblet.
The pendant is a Triskele, a triple swirl of my Celtic roots. The most powerful symbol of protection above all, and a heirloom left behind by the man who sired me so many moons ago. Lastly my opal pendulum, silver pointed, and long chained, with its ability to lead me on the right path in times of doubt. My own personal portable decision maker. I add it beside the moonstone and lay everything out as I always do in their own particular place which has been my ritual since I was old enough to do it. The moon ceremony is like charging a battery and will not only give me renewed energy but revive my talismans and items to better aid me on my path. A witch’s tools are like air and food. We cannot survive without them.
While I wait for the highest peak I sit and meditate before my alter, pulling my thoughts away and clearing my mind to get in the right mood. It isn't long before I sense the moon rising to its apex even behind closed eyes. The power surging through every cell and limb, filling me up like a glass holding water, and rushing forward towards my items. I know without looking that my stone will be glowing and flooding out its softest touch to the many things laid before me, creating a perfect tapestry of light and beauty and blessing them with strength and power. Connected together and enhancing their own specific gifts.
'Dolores inferni circumdederunt me deam talem die plenae lunae reversurus est lava me servum tuum et lux renasci.'
I recite it loudly, my spell cast chant taught at such a young age by the clan healer. Carefully, and clearly, as the light infiltrates my very soul, invoking my moon god to rejuvenate all my powers. Filling me up and bringing me back to feeling as though I have awoken from a satisfying sleep.
With the surge come the visions, flickers of meaningless images, and shadows, some unclear, yet some so sharp and in focus but hold no meaning. I’m used to these and long ago realised I had the gift of sight that many mortals long to have, but it’s strongest on a full moon. The images flit through my mind like a flick book on fast forward, until they settle on one dark form standing alone and it seems to falter to an almost stop. It’s not uncommon for the ritual to bring with it a clear message and something they want me to pay attention to.
I see a male, standing tall and strong, with his back to me, shrouded in shadow as he’s stood in front of a light source almost as bright as the sun. All he is, is a black dense figure in the shape of a tall and muscular man. He wears a hat much like Indiana Jones or a cowboy that’s not as shaped as a Stetson and I can see the form of his jacket, legs, and boots that suggest he’s a biker of some sort, or someone who favours that style. He emanates strength and vitality and even without a face I can tell he is youthful. From the back I sense no real danger, only a strong urge of purpose and duty and then he is gone. It’s only a moment but it stands out from all the other flashing scenes and images spinning in my mind’s eye.
Blinking my eyes open I note the moon has passed its apex and the ritual is almost over. Lacing my fingers together I mutter a blessing to my goddess, Cerridwen, and my god, Khonsu, before dipping my hands in the alter and cleansing myself carefully to wash away the impurities and bathe in the reenergising vitality. I lift my goblet and pour my moon water into a clean glass vial to save for important work. It’s only then I spot the addition to my table, glittering in the candlelight, and pause with a small inhale of breath.
A small silver sun charm surrounded by a circle is nestled in the salt before me. It was definitely not there before, and I cannot derive any meaning from its appearance now. Cradling it carefully in my palm, this small trinket that would befit a necklace, I close my eyes and try to source its reason for existence among my personal things.
The sun gods are not givers of power for witches, they rarely bother with any of the immortals except the ones they built with purpose. The sun’s a death sentence for many of the kinds who hide in the shadows so it’s odd to see a sun symbol given during a moon ritual, especially to a witch who is blessed by Luna. Everything I own carries the mark of Cerridwen or Khonsu in some form.
My mind returns involuntarily as I gaze upon the metal object, once more to the dark form of the man in the light, only this time the symbol I’m holding in my hand is burning in the space on his back between his shoulder blades. Glowing bright as though it’s being etched into him with a hot branding iron, yet he stands his ground, feeling no pain and seemingly unaffected by the flames on his body. I can smell the burning and taste the change in his aura.
I open my eyes with a gasp, knowing instantly what this vision means, like a lightning bolt to the brain, and get hit with a low churning sick feeling in my gut. My skin tingles with a ripple of shivers, my body turning cold and I exhale slowly to calm my racing thoughts. Knowing where I have seen this mark before, and the way it bore itself into the flesh of a human on a very special day despite a lack of metal to burn it so cruelly.
'Hunter!' I cry out breathlessly in shock. 'Oh my god!' yanking my phone from my pocket I punch in Rinny's number, fear gripping my heart in a way it has not done for almost five hundred years and breathlessly cradle it to my face, the blood draining and leaving me feeling cold inside. I’m not one to fear anything in this world, but this isn’t just some random man being scarred for life.'Hey up, what's wrong? Two calls in one day must be a record!' Rinny's cheerful tone suggests she has carried out her own moon ritual and is back in the sunny mood of a demon who has once again caged her darkness. I don’t do small talk and cut right to the chase.'I had a vision and then a talisman was left on my alter.' My voice is trembling, my hands shaking, as I turn over the tiny silver charm in my hand scrutinising it over and over. So not me in this moment, where my emotions are getting the better of me. I’m shaken and worried, two things I forgot I
December 2ndLeyanne’s journalIt's been a few days since the moon ritual, and I figured out my purpose for being here all along. There is a hunter awakening somewhere in this state and I have been drawn here repeatedly through the decades in anticipation for him. I guess Khonsu wants me to intervene in some way and has been trying to guide me all along. Not that I even know how to do that right now.I do not know what a single Hunter could do to the beings of our world, but my gut tells me that it's not good. For a creation five hundred years after the extinction of his kind I assume Ra the sun god has some major plans for this one and it wouldn't surprise me if he rewrites all the rules of what a Hunter is. I shouldn’t relax with expectation and my previous knowledge and expect something worse to prepare myself.We are so far from the origin of the Aztec's that I do not even know what I'm looking for
'Cora, I see you brought a guest.' I flick my eyes over the handsome stranger with tell-tale poreless skin in a flawless beautiful face. Ethereal and definitely not human in his handsome perfection. He has fair hair and I know even in darkness his eyes will be red. Normally they should glow in this dull light, but I sense something off about him.'He’s been assisting me, Leyanne. This is Cornel Gabor, he is from the ancestral line of Romanian vampires and has been my companion for a while.' Cora seems shy and although darkness conceals it, I can sense her blushing. A coy young girl feel to her vibe and I immediately assume she has a crush on her Vampire sidekick.I smile politely, not surprised by this revelation and already sensing what he was from afar. I deal with vampires a lot in recent decades, given they are still an organised and rather charming breed who often require assistance in the mundane. Not being able to conceal what they are among humans means t
'How do we do that?' Cornel finally quips in, no hint of confusion on his face, suggesting he also knows what hunters are and it's then I notice the sway in his movements and his trembling hands, possible dizziness as he’s sat fire gazing quietly. Vampires have impeccably steady hands and almost steel postures normally; this one is fading fast and not in a good condition.'When did you last feed on human blood?' I ignore his question with one of my own. “Don’t you have your tribute travel with you?” I frown at him, unsure why an ancestral would leave home without their gifted human that meets their feeding needs. It’s unheard of not to have access to human blood regularly. Tributes dedicate their life to serving Vampiric masters treating it as a great honour.Cora flashes a look at Cornel in minor surprise and a fleeting look of concern once more graces her face. A hint of guilt and a high blush forming on her cheekbones which sugges
8I chant out loudly, the candles going out one by one in succession around us as though a puff is wafted in succession, followed by the fire. A second of darkness before all explode back to light with a combustive boom that creates tiny sparkles around the room. Like pouring lighter fuel onto a tiny ember of a flame and igniting a volcano eruption of light.Cornel jumps to his feet in alarm, crying out in anguished pain like a dying animal, his body stiffening and twisting as he fights the internal agony. He grasps his heart with both hands, clutching at his chest as though to claw out what it is I am causing, before falling to the ground in a heap. Slumping down in a heavy unceremonious clatter into a deadweight of non-motion. I watch, undeterred and unaffected as he lays groaning and writhing, just as Cora returns, cradling the vial and bloodied dagger against her bosom, eyes wide as though she’s still reeling from what I made her do.She gasps at the s
The darkness in my head clears away to a sunny cloudless blue sky, as though I’m lying down and gazing up into the warmest of tropical summer days. I can make out tall grasses on either side of my line of sight, the type from wild meadows. Luscious and thick, greens and earthy tones mixed pleasingly, scattered with tiny pastel flowers, and savour the baking sun on my face. Voices in the distance are calling and yelling, hard to fathom as it’s so far so they are gentle murmurs in the air and not really coherent.Sitting up in my mind's eye I face towards a group of men and young women across the field playing ball, they are playing a radio on low and drinking beer, surrounded by forests as a back drop to this entire scene as though we are encircled by it at a distance. They have a blanket and picnic hamper set further aback and see like they have bene here for a while. Oblivious to my presence as I am viewing someone else’s memory.It&rsq
The day begins with the morning sun breaking through the dusty drapes of my room. The ancient large four poster bed creaking as I emerge and slide from the layers of sheets and blankets onto the cold wooden floorboards. Accustomed to the morning cold and dampness of the air since I have stayed in this state a while now.Today I’m going to begin looking through the endless public records of births in the city library for any reference to a child named Dante. Even though his accent seemed off it is still worth a try. Hopefully Cora will secure a meeting with the young seer from the coven she connected herself to, giving us a better chance at locating this elusive male. As for the rest of the coven witches, they may yet be useful if they harness any kind of skills and it’s always handy having a brood of sister witches nearby should I require assistance or minions.The girl, the seer, has no clue of the power and gifts she holds within herself if
Some are spells that need to remain constant with my power to continue working, so I never remove them. Some are talismans, some I draw power from and some for protection. I guess even with my own gifts, I still always like to have a little backup to hand. My bangles clink as I walk the few miles to town, merrily enjoying the fine weather and scenic beauty of mother earth.Even this early in the day, the sun is hot and the road dusty. I never saw much need for a car when travelling, I like the time to walk and take in my new surroundings to familiarise myself with it all. If needs be I’m very good at persuasive spells to get people to drive me where I need to go. Vampires are not the only beings with tricks like that.There seems to be some sort of weather disruption in these parts lately as it should be cold here right now. It’s winter! Yet since my arrival nothing but summer weather and soaring temperatures every second of every day. The locals are