The Dragon Witch

The witch weaved a sign. A rune so inexplicably powerful any mortal within four miles would’ve been paralysed by the sheer majesty. The only life around other than her was Moon, her white cat familiar. His large mismatched eyes were wide and alert, trained solely on his companions’ finger tracing in the night air.

She had to draw the rune 70 times in the same spot. Each time she restarted the rune, the air she drew into became thicker, as though she was cutting into foam. A trail of thin, white light escaped from the tip of her fingers, falling into the pattern she was cutting.

The summoning rune has ten black tentacles that curve and bend, and fan out in a circle. One end of each tentacle was joined together, as though it was a bicycle wheel with bent wires. Each tentacle is, again, joined by a thin line that connects to one another, forming a circle the size of a wheel.

She had traced it forty-nine times and was about to start the fiftieth. Taking a deep breath and bringing her other hand above her hand with her palm facing the black sky, she chanted:

“O, Dragon Snow of Ice

Cast thou Magyk not thy spite.

Willing thy shall be

To bring cool power upon me”.

Each sentence was spoken slow and deliberate, pronouncing each word in the ancient tongue it was supposed to be spoken. She had completed four runes traces in one stanza making two tendrils change to a bright white.

“O, Dragon Air of Form

Cast thou body not thy thought.

Willing to give thy shall be

To bring body change upon me.”

Another two tendrils changed to an exuberant yellow.

“O, Dragon Water of Life

Cast thou spirit not thy strife.

Willing to share thy shall be

To bring immortality upon me.”

Tendrils lit up in a crystal blue.

“O, Dragon Fire of Fury

Cast thou warmth not thy grudges.

Willing to heal thy shall be

To bring health upon me.”

Tendrils turned red.

“O, Dragon Earth of Stability

Cast thou core not thy faults.

Willing to learn I must be

To bring Dragon Magyk upon me.”

The last two tentacles glowed brown; finishing the seventy traces needed. The circle joining the tentacles flashed a strange purple, and the witch stopped her drawing, bringing down both hands.

“This spell is irrevocable.” Moon spoke, his cat mouth moving oddly to the words.

“I know,” She answered, not tearing her gaze away from the ring as it would ruin the spell.

“Do what you must, then.” Moon purred, slinking away from the area, leaving her to finish the ritual.

She waited only seconds before she placed her hand in the center.