Is this a thing? Like throwback thursday? Do we have a fiction friday? If not, then why not? There are so many stories out there waiting to be told.
Several years ago I wrote stories. When I started out they were pretty terrible, but over the years my writing style grew. It still needs work, and like all crafts, it will constantly evolve. Every so often a story springs into my head and I can either write it down or let it move on.
I am trying to get back into my creative habits so when this one came whispering into my head this week I decided to let it flow. So here we go, a random witchy ficlit. A tiny little tale, that might grow into something else. Or maybe this is it. In either case, enjoy.
The wooden box sat on her bookshelf.
She had waited until the moon and stars were in the correct alignment and then very carefully picked the box up and carried it to her altar. From another box she pulled four small candles and began to inscribe runes and sigils in the white wax. Some for protection, some for aid in seeing visions, and some to guide her magick.
With reverence she unfolded a black velvet cloth and spread it on the altar. Each candle was placed in a corner. Her incense and other candles were lit and set in their appropriate place. Her note book and pen were placed within easy reach; she made sure the door was closed and locked then turned back to the wooden box.
She opened the lid and picked up the small set of tongs that were sitting in an insert of the lid. They were silver, with soft felt wrapped around the tips. Like a miniature set of cooking tongs, except wrapped so that they would not scratch the item they would carry.
She slid them back into the box and with care picked up the gemstone. It was heavier than she remembered, but she was able to move it slowly from its home and placed it on the velvet cloth.
The gem sat quietly, its many facets twinkling in the dim light. She lit the four candles, whispering words of power as she moved the match from each wick. When the fourth was lit she sat back, took a deep breath, and then stared at the gem.
Light from the spelled candles hit each face and shot around the room. Her third eye opened and struggled against the brilliance for a moment before accepting it. As the crystal focused its power, visions began to pour in. Vertigo swept into her, but she let go and fell into it. With that moment of acceptance, the universe opened up around her.
Much later the candles had melted down. As the last one went out the crystal went quiet. She blinked and sat bewildered as her mind began to process all she had witnessed. She blindly reached for the pen and notebook next to her. Once the pen was in her hand she began to write. Pages and pages were filled before she felt grounded in this reality again.
Carefully, the crystal was moved back to its box. The silver tongs were slipped back into their sleeve. Everything was cleaned up, and, with a prayer of thanks, she headed to bed.