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 f

e 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 s

on, 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

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 wa

ind 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 floodi

m talem die plenae lunae reversurus es

and clearly, as the light infiltrates my very soul, invoking my moon god to rejuvenate all my powe

d 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 o

h 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 witho

onsu, 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

re, and I cannot derive any meaning from its appearance now. Cradling it carefully in my palm, this small trinket

urpose. 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

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 iro

ling 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 hav