"Hemlock, foxglove, nightshade three - /
Shield me from catastrophe. /
Silent lungs and final weeps. /
Send my monsters back to sleep."
Olden World, c. 1866: Shy Callum, the Seamstress's son, is an easy target for the village bullies. When Callum ac...
NOTE: Still a draft. Please let me know if something is missing. Thank you :)
Rumpled plumage, omen breeze, Far from crowds and close to trees, Near the entrance of the woods Dense behind the neighbourhoods, Imogen and Callum stand Where a massacre began — Littered on the bitter ground Slaughtered doves are all around, Twisted necks and reddened wings, Empty little feathered things. Bloodshed lingers in the air As the winds sigh in despair, In the eerie, cold unease Out amidst these shadow trees.
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Imogen inspects the fray — Talon prints and curst decay. She feels magick of foul play.
"Is this where you met that Man?" Cal nods but can't understand Why such murder has occurred With these gentle, guiltless birds.
"Cal, he's not a man at all But a demon gaunt and tall — Hawk of hawks, a raptor blent, Seizer of the Innocent, Seed of death, disease unseen, Nightmare who devours dreams... Doveling, hear me carefully. We are now in danger deep. As he has your lock of hair He can find you anywhere. He will feed upon your fear, Misery and lack of cheer. Like a leech, a louse, a flea, He will steal your energy. Do not let that parasite Rob your mind, your heart, your life! I have warned and always told, Never follow unknown souls — Should have watched you like an owl, Painfully regret that now... From today, we move ahead, Step with tact and hidden tread. Callum, dear, you must stay strong — Tender flyer, dreamer long. Promise me you'll chant this spell — Vanquish illness, reclaim health:
Snakebane, wolfbane, bearbane three — Shield me from catastrophe. Fractured lungs and final breath — Let my Demon meet his death.
If you see him in your sleep, At some window as he peeps, If you hear him in your thoughts Sending sounds of tortured sorts, If you feel him in the air Playing with your doveling hair, Chant the Bane Spell right away — Fight to see another day. He may veer, deflect, evade — You must chant it all the same..."
Imogen now halts her speech. She can feel the Demon Thief Far but close with ghostly reach.
"...I can sense him spying us. Home we go, much to discuss..."
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