The Rogue Angel (Entry #4)

Deity pounded on her chamber door as she heard her coven sisters crying , murmuring, running and brooming through the corridors. She knew Terra had overstepped a boundary with her revelation but couldn't fathom her frightened sisters' claim to execution. She could hear Governess Maria, The Air Witch, calming the young witches of Earth.

"Children, ladies, children! Please, silence. Be still, listen."

Deity pressed her ear to the chamber door.

"We have all studied Karma", Maria continued, "we all know well that It compensates in full. So if the word being spread has any validity then..."

"But she's our Governess. There isn't a more competent Earth Witch in Vulcan or Diana!" Deity heard. From the rasp in her sister's voice, she could tell the cry originated from Laura. But Laura was currently in Fire Mastery but she is known to frequent the Earth wing. The young witches of Vulcan tend to wander to the wing of their elemental moon, their original mastery. The same stands  for the young wizards of Diana and their elemental sun. Both House Vulcan and House Diana have identical architecture. Each House forms a pentagram castle of the five wings, with The Coven Parents in the center. Each wing is heavily decorated and enchanted with the elements of assignment. Where the man power for décor and engineering falls short, magick supplements.

The Water wing has running water substituting glass windows. The baseboards of the rooms and corridors are the same to foster practice and peace with the element. The spell on the Air wing leaves it subject to tornadoes in the hall, a byproduct of frequent spell casting gone awry. But, we've learned their patterns and now use them for practice and therefore mastery tasks, and fun, when conceit sets into a young magician. The Fire wing, the darkest and seediest wing of the castles, is void of electricity and is prone to visits from The Underworld by means of the candle and torch flames that illuminate it. The Ether wing is more simple than one might think. It is possessed to the point that each chamber as twice the occupancy of any other wing. We practice embracing our true selves when we cycle to Ether for interaction with those possessing the wing. But Laura's lunar home has bedroom floors of green grass and living, breathing, speaking plant life. Every witch that cycles to the Earth wing is magickally responsible for the upkeep of their plant life.

There are nine chambers in each of the five wings. Seven are dormitory with elemental features and every student magicians of Vulcan and Diana has a pagan roommate. One chamber for the solitude of the Governor or Governess who monitors the students' progression and behavior throughout their five year mastery of the element. And each wing has one chamber of isolation. This particular dungeon of penance is void of the comforting homeliness and magick provided by elemental features. That would be the chamber of Deity and the like. It is only subject to magick when its repenting occupant suffers further sentencing.







As deity chaffed and paced in her chamber of isolation, she hated herself for her curiosity and wandering that resulted in her occupying the ninth chamber. Two ago, only one year into her Earth Mastery and bonding with Terra, she was sentenced to "no recreation for a twenty one days" for practicing Water Magick against Governess Hestia. The Fire Witch Governess and Professor of Manipulation of Stones and Metals (MNP103) was saturated in her only weakness after a showy display of authority against Deity when Deity became testy regarding the mandate that she only learn but not practice the ways of Fire. 

"The binding placed on me in Fire classes and in your wing is for your safety and coddling as mortals. I wont just sit and listen and test on paper", Deity proclaimed that day. Hestia would not "tolerate her lip" and struck Deity with flames. To the Fire Witch's dismay, Deity gave a proud rebuttal that mandated Hestia dry out for a week before reigniting. Out of fear of further sentencing, Deity fled the perimeter of the two Houses and retreated deep into the surrounding woods, the same woods of her discovery as a newborn.

Cold and ill-equipped for survival in the wild, Deity slept under a large pile of leaves. In the middle of the night, she was awakened in terror by a snake slithering across her leg. When she screamed and threw the serpent from her, it regrouped and spoke.

"I know you child. Calm yourself. You are The Abandoned One", announced the legless entity.

"Abandoned by whom?" Deity asked, no less shaken than she was before he spoke.

Excited with anticipation, he slithered closer to her and raised his limbless body erect, now eye level with the kneeling rebel.

"Instead inquire of whom awaits you child." The serpent hissed softly and swayed from side to side, reading the spirit in Deity's eyes. "Have you learned of The Fallen Angels of Heaven in that coven of yours, Witch?"

"We study them but working and battling them is prohibited outside of the Ether Mastery cycle."

The serpent put distance between them.

"And I suppose", he began, "it would be the same for The Rising Angels of The Underworld."

Before Deity could confirm his suspicion, he leaped and buried himself into the ground. The Earth trembled and the very spot of his burial began to lift and form a whirlwind funnel. After several crackles and sparks inside the earthy twister, it combusted into flames. A large masculine angelic entity appeared in the swirling heat. With a strong flap of his wings, the fire was extinguished and the earth settled. He hovered over the young witch, raised his left arm and pointed to her.

"Deity our Abandoned One, you were left alone to demonstrate your purpose, a trial not so uncommon. Remember, Hell hath no fury without She born of it." He then outstretched his palm and struck Deity with a heat that knocked her back into the leafy heap and into a deep sleep. He blanketed her as she was before and watched her rest. He confessed.

"My daughter, your mother and I will not be there for you're return. We must expire for the sake of your reign. But you will never learn mastery until you leave that cage we've reluctantly given you as a home. When you do leave, Deity, you will be alone. He will come for you. And you two will return to The Underworld together. Stay fervent, my beloved demon daughter. Remain furious, oh rebellious one, Hell's future Queen. We love you." Her father then left her.

At dawn, she was awakened by the roaring of her coven brothers of House Diana on foot, brooms and horseback. They collected their rogue sister who had awakened in excruciating pain. Twenty four hours from the point that The Rising Angel of The Underworld rendered her unconscious, she was laying on her belly in the infirmary of House Vulcan. In one hand she held a letter explaining that the remainder of her experience as a student at House Vulcan would be spent magickless isolation. In the other, a mirror that revealed a fate she considered to be far worse. She had two large humps on her shoulder blades, from which she was sprouting wings.









Deity refused to be excluded from the commotion of Terra's fate any longer. She glared at the chamber door, determined to break the spell of isolation. She hovered above the ground, forsaking the use of the wand, opting instead to conduct her power organically, as she had recently been instructed. She raised her left hand, stretched out her palm, sought destruction and put her Latin to the test.

"Veritatem revelare. Ego sum qui ego sum. Deus tuus ego sum. Arcum mihi!"

Deity waved her hand and the door and its wall opposing her crumbled. When her freedom was granted her by her own power, she saw her coven sisters running toward the exit. 

"They've found her!" They hollered. "Diana has found Terra!"

In the distance, she could hear Governess Maria, announcing the event. 

"Now, now, we must all convene outside for a dual coven convention for the execution of The Traitor."

Deity's stomach turned. Terra's revelation of Deity's birthright as The Lofty Chosen of Darkness and subsequent fleeing warranted public execution. No doubt, The Earth Witch with fall to her only weakness and burn at the stake. In the heat of the moment, Deity disregarded the insecurities of her very human, yet blessed, siblings and parents and flew over head to the entrance of House Vulcan. As she flew passed her sisters, she ignored their cries and pleas.

"Deity, please, return to your isolation, for your own sake!"

"Deity, please, why won't you use a broom?" Deity had it set in her heart to do neither. She refused her cage and the use of antiquated tools that do not move as quickly as her wings allowed. 

Terra had broken a pact of secrecy for Deity's deserved awareness. She would repay her governess with the same rebellion. The glory of this defiance was undeniable to Deity. As she navigated the halls of Vulcan, she looked down at her sisters and dodged those brooming, having the nagging inkling that this would be her final goodbye. As her flight led her to the entrance of her coven, she opted for a less showy display of power, closed her eyes, retracted her wings and exited through the window. 

Outside witches and wizards from The Houses poured into the front courtyard. The stake and lumber were prepped as The Executioner tied Terra to her fate. Deity could see sparks and bolts of green energy shooting from Terra's body as she struggled to use Earth magick for her freedom. As the truth took hold of Deity, her heart sank. Her generation of witches and wizards had only heard cautionary tales of executions. They has never witnessed one. Deity was mortified at the amount of magicians excited, proud and advocating Terra's death. Terra had declined from being a beloved and venerated authority figure of Earth in both the sibling Houses to being detested, name cursed and spit upon.

Deity looked over and saw both sets of coven parents next to the stake as Terra's face flooded and shivered in fear. The four coven parents seemed to ignore Deity's presence and broomless flight. The four parents spoke in unison.

"Self-perpetuating, may Vulcan and Diana live forever!"

The Executioner of The Houses, a demonic ward of The Underworld, then  spat his unholy flame and lit the lumber. Terra screamed at the top of her lungs. Deity couldn't bring herself to take action. In her inexperience, she was stunned. Terra's terror and horror resounded into the woods that the hidden witches and wizards had made their home three hundred years ago. As the flames grew to Terra's waist, Terra began to choke and cough up blood. For the last time, Terra and Deity made eye contact. Mourning the torture of her governess, Deity broke her composure at the sight of the weakening of the Earth magick leaving Terra's pentagram. Her shrill of agony echoed. Terra gasped twice and screamed out to Deity from what little was left of the magickal soul possessing her body.

"Run, Deity! Run!"

From her third word, the flames instantaneously engulfed Terra. The crowd cheered. The Coven Father of House Vulcan, the only father that Deity knew, raised his hand and immediately silenced the celebration. With the mixed houses' attention on the Coven Father and his hand, they followed its direction to look up or over at Deity. With their energy fixed on their rogue sister, Gustav spoke masterfully.

"Magicians, fire."

With the grace of magick, two hundred witched and wizards pulled their wands from their inner pockets of the cloaks and fired their elemental magick of preference. Deity made evasive maneuvers from their energy and brooms. As several of her brothers of Diana began to enclose, her youth and inexperience with betrayal lead to her demise. She lost her angelic control and began to fall. As she descended towards her grounded siblings, she felt pressure on her brain as the Greek Lord of The Underworld spoke.

"Higher!" He shouted.

Through the frighten tears in her eyes, she looked up and saw the brooms of her brothers vanish into thin air. As they began to crash land, some saved by magick and others crossing over, Deity took to the clouds. At every moment of doubt she heard the Lord speak again.

"Higher!"
"Higher!"
"Higher!"

Once outside of the dual covens' range, Deity heard the voice of Hades once more.

"Leave. Forever."

Out of harm's way and void of further doubt, Deity flew.  In to the night, away from the fear of those lesser than she, away from regular persecution and sentencing, away from the demands to be anything other than her Self, she flew.

to be continued...

The Rogue Angel: Entry #3

"Governess, may I walk with Deity to her chambers? Her sentence has me out of sorts and I fear it will misdirect future manifestations." Tabby asked in her sweetest voice. Her loose brunette ringlets slowly danced in the air, as they were unaffected by gravity. Every member of the coven, from the age of five, spends five years under the governance of a particular element in order to master it, while concurrently taking General Education courses, both magickal and profane. Tabby rose in Air but her Moon is in Earth. So though Tabby's third round of governance landed her in Mastering Fire, Terra was particularly fond of the young Earth Witch and highly anticipated her future governance over her fellow Earthling. 

"What a clever claim Earth Witch. You're two years from the completion of your Third Element Mastery. Even during your eighteenth year, your focus is flawless." Terra responded, portraying offense, as she personally was incapable of avoiding bias with other Earthlings. She caved, as Tabby knew she would. "Walk with your sister." The girls, Deity, Tabby and Terra alike, giggled and walked down the corridor.

"You know Deity, my Second Element Mastery was torture. Twelve year old girls are mean. For an entire year, all I was reminded of was that my father was not of House Diana and that I'm the daughter of an excommunicated witch whore! For all I know, only half of my conjuring was magick. So you shouldn't chafe at being a demon child." She playfully said to Deity in her spookiest witch's voice. Terra, following close behind the students, grinned.
"That's the best you've got girl? Shame to your Social Segregation professor. The profane wont be terrified of you at all." Terra chucked admiringly.

"I'll be sure that Professor Olla knows she's failing me. She'll be thrilled." Tabby said sassily and then returned her attention to Deity. "So you see, you aren't as bad off as I am. There's no reason for shame."

"You could have found out who your father is, Tabby and be rid of your shame. Don't run from divination. Anyway, you're too powerful to come from profane blood. I consider you no half breed." Deity said maintaining high spirits. They were seconds away from reaching her chamber, when her solitude and sentence would resume.

"Thank you, my truest friend. Magick knows I miss being your roommate. I hate that your wandering and wings separated us." Tabby said as they approached the chamber door that was cloaked from ceiling to floor in a black cloud of negativity that evidence Deity's sentence. 

The three froze outside of the room and silenced as a thin black hazy hand inched from the spell, seeking the presence of trespassers. It caressed Tabby's face and she immediately went red in her round face and experienced a full body paralysis that left her eyes in wide and bloodshot and quickly leaking large tears. A chill came over Deity as the energy began to draw her body near the door. Tabby attempted speech and produced a spine chilling stutter. "W-w-why is s-s-she doing this to you Deity?!" She cried out in horror.

"Enough!" cried Terra, "Tabatha you have no business here and it's been made clear." With swiftness Terra removed her Earthy wand, struck and freed Tabatha from the spell that was beginning to swallow her. "Be gone, child, and do not return until your sister has triumph. Beseech the Universe that she does." Tabby backed away from her bestfriend, not wanting to leave her side and forced to break eye contact to turn and flee. Deity's fear set in as she watched Tabby's cloak fly behind her as she did. She turned to her governess for mercy. 

"Governess please! I don't know why they are always so harsh with me! Save me Terra!" She screamed as the spell's pull on her demonic body increased with the removal of the trespasser. Nearly shivering and fighting tears of her own, Terra waved her wand in the air, in standard choreography. It danced an energy summons and she spoke her will.

"Aether interius Terris, Deus interuis corporis" she then pointed her weapon to the ground beneath them. "Servus meus es tu. Puer guide in salutem." The Earth beneath the title floor shot upward under what was once Deity's door, breaking and freeing Deity from the spell and opening the doorway by several feet. Terra stepped back with her left foot and then shot her wand at Deity. With "intra cubiculum", the Earth slide Deity into her bedroom. 

The two witches stood on opposite sides of the opening, staring at one another. Terra jerked her head upward and chest outward, instructing Deity to do the same. "The Coven Parents are afraid you Child." With her governess' rare honesty, Deity broke. She screamed and cried as the ground beneath her still crumbled.

"Who am I?" 

Terra raised and danced her wand and groaned in disgust in her lack of discretion. She vomited her final fateful words,
"The Lofty Chosen of Darkness". She pointed her wand and Deity's bedroom, the flooring and the black spell of isolation and pain were restored. Terra stood staring at the black haze over the door.

"Ego semper pythonissam".

In the suite of The Coven Parents, the century old witch and her wizard husband forty years her senior were dressing to retire for the evening. The wizard sat in a plush red velvet robe with a glass of wine and listened ever so intently to his wife complain about the current generation of the coven children. Sharp daggers were thrown about their deviation but The Coven Father didn't waste his precious energy to introduce to his wife to the idea of innovation and progress. They have raised their coven since his mother in law was captured and murdered by profane hands fifty years ago. As a new generation of Coven Parents themselves, they had an unrelenting need to preserve the reputation of the school and home left to them. So he allowed her to vent and scheme. When his wife took a breath, he interjected.

"Dear..." he said lovingly. He received no response as she continued to oil her hands while staring at herself, seated at her vanity. Her husband swooned under the influence of his red wine and his wife's scent of lavender and rose. "Sabrene, My Love, what's truly bothering you?" Immediately The Coven Mother ceased oiling herself and looked off the into the distance, listening. 

"Sshh..." she began, "Do you hear that Gustav?" 

Her husband sipped and rejected the notion, "Leave an old wizard alone, it doesn't speak to me the way it used to or ever as well as it did with you. What was said?" Sabrene jumped up and grabbed her robe, "Put some pants on Love, we have company."

The Coven Mother went to their chamber doors and opened it before Olga, The Water Governess and Professor of Divination, Necromancy and English Literature could knock. The Coven Mother's countenance tightened as she looked into the dutiful eyes of Olga. "So, it's true?" asked The Coven Mother. Olga nodded, "Yes Dear Coven Mother, it is true and she fled, leaving a written confession and apology to the coven". Olga handed The Coven Mother the letter left on Terra's bed. The Coven Mother shouted at the insult, "You won't know regret nor remorse until you cool from hellfire, Traitor!"

Angrily, The Coven Father approached his wife from behind, closing the chamber door in Olga's face. "Compose yourself Witch. What has possessed you? Ive heard our news. The whispers were calm. Why aren't you My Love. This wont your first execution. So don't shame your mother's name with hysterics. The traitor will be hunted and burned. The House of Diana will see to it." He kissed his diabolical wife that he loved more than magick itself and caressed her lower back. "She signed our agreement in blood. Foolish Earth Witch. Never taking a single vow with The Underworld was her greatest mistake." The couple smiled gratified in their truth and tenderly kiss again. Their lips part and Sabrene giggles, "She'll be tortured for all eternity. Light magick has never saved a soul". Kristoph looked longingly into his wife's villainous black eyes. 

"Your hatred is most becoming My Darling". 

Sabrene smiled sinfully, disrobed, backed towards and climbed into their bed.

"Possess me you malicious bastard".

Occult Observations: The Black Cat by Edgar Allan Poe

"Who has not, a hundred times, found himself committing a vile or a stupid action, for no other reason than because he knows he should not ?" In The Black Cat, Poe gave a very telling,yet, non Catholic confession to his nature as a man of fire and lust. It is even more telling, to those of a different nature, to reveal that the strategy is mainly to break or disrespect morality. It can be a compelling or attractive quality to those of the opposite sex seeking to have a traditional good time, playing with the "bad boy". But this does not read as the most idealistic state of being for those living such lawlessness first hand. Poe goes on to say, "Have we not a perpetual inclination, in the teeth of our best judgment, to violate that which is Law, merely because we understand it to be such? This spirit of perverness..." Much like the little boy reigning in his parents' household with fire and fury, shaming his mother and worshipping the father who leaves in search of greener pastures, Poe describes killing a dog simply because it loved him. The dog's lack of desire to attack or kill his master is what lead his Master to kill him.

The Sun, Shango, Zeus, Jesus, Hades, Had, no matter what you call the power of the element of fire, it only respects that which who knows, promotes, promises and does eventually put him out. Poe goes on to explain that his desire to kill the weaker vessel was his initiation into demonic terror. After also killing a black cat, which may or may not be to his recollection, he realized that his existence was symbolized by his poorly chosen victim. The light of historic gods of fire have been always paralleled to black cats and self destructive behavior. Shango's debauchery leading to him hanging himself, The Lord's desire for a street gang and traveling magic show and staunch opposition to the government, leading to his execution and Poe's thirst for excitement by means of murder lead to his downfall as did his predecessors. He later goes on to murder his wife, who innocently and ignorantly pandered to his sexual perversions and used surprising masonic skill to bury her in the basement wall. Like all men descending from Fire, the black cat appears when he has reached his fate. In Poe's case, his drunken-like demonic rage influenced his arrogance when he invited the police into his home and taunted them as they searched for his missing wife. And while audaciously reveling in what he thought would be his victory, his blackened feline murder victim reappears in the basement and screeches in the direction of the Mrs. Poe hidden body.

I, that which who knows, promotes, promises and does eventually put him out, would have told him not to do it. Or at least, I would have told him how do it. But who am I?

The Rogue Angel Entry #2

"Up. Down. Up. Down.", Deity whispered softly as her wings abliged in synchronicity. She sat on the floor of her quarters, sulking her predicament. The spell on her window allowed for energy to enter but not exit for ventilation and light, but the energy proof glass left her feeling hopeless.
"And this was just compensation?", she asked staring over at it. She twirled a wand in her right hand like a baton, and was then startled but a sudden rattling, girling, and then high pitched screetching. She whipped her attention over to the door.
"Damn."
She knew the door would never open as the wall containing it and the floor beneath her began to shake. She immediately hovered mid air. Through the rush of adrenaline, she struggled to mind the lack of head space above her in the small chamber and keeping her eye out for the work she had been asking for. Bang! She hit her head once as a burst of black energy entered the room. She tried to remain off the ground as he entered on all fours. Nerve wrecking excitement at it's new surroundings and in search of a playmate that would end up his meal for the afternoon, the demon surveyed the chamber.
Nearly hyperventilating, Deity pointed her wand.
"I swear on all things Masculine and Feminine, I'll kill you and condemn you back to hell Asmodeus!" She screamed at the top of her lungs. She had studied him well in Demology but never worked with or against him. Her arm now trembling from pointing the wand she doubted would assist in doing the job that she claimed it would, hoping to inspire fear and therefore an easier battle. The demon was more wolf and man then gremlin, a fearsome hybrid, product of conjurational experimentation in Hell and but one term of an eternal contract with The Underworld for the sake of war and education. Asmodeus rose to his feet, as he made and refused break eye contact. From floor to crown, he stood at five feet and one inch, only four inches shorter than Deity. He gave a small, self gratifying growl and on all our fours, took to the wall opposite Deity. She screamed in horror and she made evasive maneuvers, still pointing her wand. Scaling the far wall, jumping over the window and across the ceiling he approached his opponent.

Deity was raised in the ways of light and was sentenced to battle with darkness due to her insisting to practice, but she lacked all the necessary training. Light magick, or white, was beneficial for protection, healing, wealth, creation, and self defense. But there was nothing that her Governess,Terra, nor her professors had instructed her in that would prepare her to destroy a hellish novelty like Asmodeus, at least, none that she could remember at the time. The Coven Father couldn't have chosen a smaller gremlin? But as Deity, dipped, swerved and failed in timing when casting a containment spell to freeze the demon in place so that she could devise a plan for his destruction, she thought of the entity that gave her access to her wings when she ran away a was lost in The Woods of Whims overnight. When he found her, he  never named himself but claimed kinship to the Lord Hades and informed her of her angelic birthright. He casted a spell that left her dormant, waking with a severe ache in her third eye and across her entire back from which her wings painfully emerged over the following twenty four days. Deity spoke no Greek and her Latin needed improvement but she trusted her natural precociousness for manifestation and called on Lord Hades.

Every time she uttered the name Hades, Asmodeus would pause, as if anticipating the Lord's arrival, waiting a second or two and would resume his pursuit. At the fourth utterance of the name her outstretched right arm froze, dropping her wand. Her hand opened and waved across the path of Asmodeus. He flew to the far right, hitting the wall and falling to the floor. A slight pressure cloaked her mind as someone whispered to her from within. She identified the foreign language as Greek. As Asmodeus shook off the blow, Deity slowly began to panic from the language barrier. Exchanging weapons, her left hand then rose and in a louder volume the voice ordered "Strike!". Deity's palm felt warm as reddish electric energy shot from it. As Asmodeus dodged the blow, her outstretched palm moved along his path, "Follow!". When her aim was centered, it spoke again, "Strike!", and her heated energy would leave her body and fire against her enemy. Asmodeus was hit once when the wall opened revealing The Coven Mother.
"That's enough!", she shouted. Asmodeus was pulled from the room, scraping and scratching at the floor. Once he was pulled back into the darkness from whence he came, a heavily breathing Coven Mother adjusted her husband's sentence. "We do not have contracts for your license, I mean," shaking her head and dismissing the thought, "your nonsense. The Coven Father would have stopped the contention at the first minor injury and released you from the additional battles. Calling upon Lord Hades, Child, I have had enough of these strange happenings. Never in our coven's three centuries have we encountered such a..." The coven mother was abruptly interrupted and stormed out closing the wall behind her. Deity, now grounded, stared in disbelief at the The Coven Father's matching her with any entity as powerful as Asmodeus and allowing for an injury.
"I wont steal again, Mother", Deity said sorrowfully as her place with her coven parents became clear. She couldn't trust The Father anymore than she could The Mother and would have preferred to be trapped in a cavern wall.

She had a little more than twenty four hours until Beltane. In her twelve hours of detainment, she slaughtered, gutted and pieced her offering. After battling Asmodeus, she became surprised that the mess was removed from the room. How kind!

"How the hell am I supposed to offer the goat alone this is small room without training in fire to contain it? Is he trying to kill me?" Her chamber door opened and there stood Terra. Deity rose and stood before her. "Governess?" Terra looked at her proudly, head a little higher than usual and chest puffed. "You may attend dinner with your coven Child". Hungry and tired from newly discovered energy, Deity was grateful at the announcement. But she had not seen so much pride in her Governess and she had just aced her final in Alchemy 102. Deity could only imagine what secret to her sentence she was missing. But divination would have to wait. She was being left to the devices of her sisters.

Deity played with her biscuit, overlooking her chicken breast and garden salad. It didn't matter that the basil and cilantro on both enchanted her senses. This evening, her herbological favorites and their magical benefits paled in comparison to her anxiety. They all sat five to a table. A large coven of witches, in place for over three hundred years. Only one hundred lived In House but there are nearly one thousand of House Vulcan, a coven priding itself on the accurate duplication of all signature magic of The Ancients. There isn't a world empire whose sorcery could not be studied and perfected in House Vulcan. They had forged the greatest witches and sorcerers of the last three centuries. Deity sat where she typically did, at Earth, Tabatha, her bestfriend at Fire, Catherine at Water, Berretta at Air and Theresa at Ether; an assignment according to governance.

"Deity, you're running out time for supper. Where's that beastly appetite to which we've all grown accustomed?" Beretta asked, giggling. "Leave her alone Retty", added Tabatha as she looked consolingly at Deity, "I don't think it was fair that you went up against Asmodeus alone either. My fire magic couldn't have done me any justice on my own without additional help from my governess and The Coven Parents have forbade you from learning it. Eat up sweetheart, who knows what you'll be up against later."

"Do you think The Coven Father wants me dead?" Deity asked without looking up from her plate. Catherine, the eldest at the table wiped her mouth very authoritavely and threw her napkin to the table. "You're elemental magic is strong enough without fire. You needn't insult the coven with your doubt. You've done well and you will continue to do so. Get through your sentence and wipe those sticky fingers clean, Witch."

"Ha!" Theresa gave way. "Vos autem non pytonissam. Piger puella. Alienus et non idoneos transfertus." Deity looked at Theresa angrily. She may have struggled with her accent and her writing but her Latin comprehension was flawless. Theresa had to ground to say she wasn't a witch. Neither was she lazy or a little girl. But to call her an outcast and unfit, well that was a blow for which Deity was unprepared.

"Scio quid dicas Theresa, leave me alone. Now is not the time for blasted quipping, Coven Sister" Deity shot back.

"Non soror mea est" Theresa said.

"Now that's enough Theresa, she has been and always will be our sister" said Retty, uncomfortable and irritated with Theresa's frankness. "Ego adaptatus", added Deity, still self defensive and proving her case. "We know you were adopted Deity you dont have to prove yourself this way", said Tabatha. "Et accepit sum" Deity said, turning to Tabatha. 

"False, but you will be accepted once again, after your sentence. Theresa has a point Coven Sister" gave Catherine.

Condescendingly, Theresa continued, "de daemonium and now a repeated violator of Coven Law. We learn how to annihilate lawless demons of your kind in The School of Fire, a craft that I began to master at 10 years old. You were excluded from it for this very reason. They should have sent a sister to your chambers, Demon."

"As if my Earth magic would have failed her. Your sister conjured a Lord of the Underworld this afternoon and He did not fail her either. And The Coven Father has negotiated her next opponent with Lord Hades, now that He vouches for her use of His element. It will be a fair fight. Threaten her again, Child, and you'll be on Trial faster than you sneak into the wizards dormatory", Terra said as she stood behind Deity.  Just then the end of supper bell rang and the coven dispersed back to their respective quarters. Deity needed to rest before her next battle, but gave way to tears of gratitude at the blessing to use the element the element of fire. Her hope of attaining The Pentagram was not lost.

Married to the Devil

Speak Master...

I've recently began studying the Mesmeric Revelation. During Poe's experiment, his sleep-waking subject reveals that our personal or individualized incarnations are mere portions of an unincorporate mind, an Universal Mind. Mr. V left me in existential meditation, one of my favorite pastimes. As I traveled through the snowcapped mountains of Denver, I pondered on what portion of what the more traditional call "God" could I, infact, be. My cultural roots conclude that I, Lauren Hunter, am a physical manifestation of Universal Love. Love. Those who are familiar with my work maybe inclined to agree but the sadomasochistic nature that tends to accompany the various forms of love making in which I self indulge can appear to be contradictory to my self professed and promoted purpose of incarnation.

Physical and Universal laws mandate opposites. Outside of such mandate, there is no means of making a distinction between manifestations. What is good if there is no bad? The status quo remains with Love and Hatred; though similar the two are not interchangeable with the aforementioned. I can not unconditionally choose, exercise or bestow love without first experiencing and conducting hatred and found the results to be short lived self gratification. While an entity like myself is capable of absolute destruction through the sentencing of a traitor or any sense of betrayal, the Love Making I exude is very clearly my reason for being.

With that said, it should be no surprise to my readers that I have a longing, no a fetish, no, more so of an emotional and sexual submission to the power of the villain, Hatred, The Devil. I glorify with watery offering the movie and television characters or portrayals of Hatred, as Dr. Hannibal Lector, Jafar, The Dark Knight's Joker and Once Upon a Time's Rumpelstiltskin. I find the unconventional, unfiltered and uninhibited psyche of the villainous Mastermind to be an unfailing disturbance to the slumber of my "Cave of Wonders". The Devil gives it the most pleasurable pounding pain. And, no, it is not because he offers a "walk on the wide side" or an uncontrolled element of danger. Rather, he uses his intelligence to prove his strength, capability, influence, mental freedom and overall power after being loving has left him uncared for, unsatisfied, hurt. "Is it really so?", said the Devil. Never Again! His experience with Love, prior to myself that is, had not affirmed his Being. So he rejects the notion of softness, blind faith, the illusion of justified submission and opts to constitute the fiery portion of the Universal Mind. He is Satan. He raises Hell and I am his consort. He reduces opposition to ashes and I wash them away. Only together can God truly swoon.

I AM Lyssa

| CXCVIII | 33,827 | IV

I want my child.

I want my Alyssa.

I want my child to know the power in her voice, in her laughter, in her desires, in her thoughts.

I want my child to look in the mirror and love her beautiful chocolate skin.

I want my daughter to know that boys are mean but trust and believe that girls are much meaner.

I want my baby to believe in magick, to know that She is magick, because said Disney We are!

I want my daughter to know what True Love is and it does not come from covering Her head, that restrictive path of death is Sin.

I want my daughter to know She is her Mother and her Mother is She.

I want and need My Alyssa to know that there is no Jehovah. She is God, She can do Anything, She is Everywhere and She knows Everything; so the word of the law Thelema.

I want her to fall in love with Herself first and only then will she be able to find the Love of the Man she truly deserves. He is not her Head nor is She is. They are One, they are none, they are perfect.

I want my child to exceed the accomplishments of her mother.

I want my child to drive and Hunt and reign, as her very blood compels her to do. Growl at the boys My Baby.

I want my child to feel the warmth of the Sun and realize her potential.

I want her to see the glow of the Moon and love her gentleness.

Dear baby, You are thy Master, not He, not even Me.

I want my child to know She is accompanied by the tens of thousands, the hundreds of thousands of Us who walked before her, who now walk beside her, Our Ancestors. You are a Descendant.

I need my baby to know her Mommy feels the pain of distance and separation.

I miss my child.

I need Alyssa to remember My Love and when She misses Mommy the most, to close her eyes and to call my name and Lula will make sure I answer.

I need my child to know that not a single soul on this planet or the next means more to me than she does.

Your Mommy sang to you, your Mommy dreamed and hoped and planned for you and still does.

I cried the very millisecond I saw you, Little One, and I cry as I type and long for you. Your Mother can not lie.

Remember who You are, My Daughter.

“Beauty and strength, leaping laughter, delicious languor (faith in Us), force and fire are of us.”

As so above baby, so below,

Your Mommy

She loved and she wrote. She wrote some more and she loved to write.

When You Peel the Onion

| CXCVI | 33,371 | II

                       

 "The Universe is the Practical Joke of the Fettered at the Expense of the Free”

F.P. laughed as he described the sorrowful reality that the majority of people prefer to wear chains, obey orders and move in fearful droves. Much like adolescent high school students, We free men and women are ridiculed for our distinct differences. We walk, speak and view ourselves and our abilities with a confidence that is as rare as our very existence. When those of Us who are born with the heroic wherewithal to know that the most unlikely means produce the best results, We are treated with a lack of respect. They scoff, spit, wanting to scrimmage, so sorrowful. He further explains their tiers.

“Those nearest to him wept, seeing… Sorrow. Those next to them laughed…”

Employing laws of power, Master Therion kept the hypersensitive closest to himself. There are those of us who can not help but to pity the fate of the fettered. It is a shame. Then those who are of the constitution to find humor in this reality most likely laugh at the weeping as well. The rankings continue down to those who were blind to the reason for either response but felt blessed enough to be present. Wisely, they laughed when He did. May we all be conscious enough to distinguish the Self from the Not.

“… in Himself He neither laughed nor wept.”

Who sorroweth are not of us. Beauty and strength… force and fire, are of us. (2:20)

As so above, so below,

The Huntress

She loved and she wrote. She wrote some more and she loved to write.

The Fallacy of Fucking Freely as it Correlates to Self-Esteem

| CXCIII | 

I swear with all my cosmic power, I AM not sleeping with my “husband” any longer. Why? Well, since I’ve elevated my consciousness and realized that I AM God, I also realized that he will not have such an awakening during this particular journey. Perhaps what energy he gets from me will manifest in a heightened existence for his reincarnated return. As for where we are now, in this place in which we perceive as time, his touch and kiss give me the sense of perverted violation. I feel as if giving him my temple for pleasure, completely refusing the option of procreation, would be the quickest means of tainting the pure energy I’ve spent the last eighteen months creating and manipulating. As a Scorpio, sex magick is the most powerful and natural for me. After all, we are the most powerful of the entire zodiac. So non-natives can only imagine how sensitive a self-realized and actualized God might feel laying with someone who is intentionally hateful, condescending, selfish and vehemently opposed to scientific illumination. As a result, the Universe has forced me to find my equal, becauscha sexual chemical marriage is never a matter to be taken lightly. I have resolved for the first time in my life to remain celibate until I encounter my complimentary practitioner of the magickal arts. Now, if my resolution comes off as pretentious and/or unwarranted, attempt to view it on the basis of Universal Law.

Deepak Chopra teaches that our bodies are a physical manifestation of our conscience’s sentiment. Everything, from how we look to how we feel, has a metaphysical source. Every action we take has an equal and opposite physical and metaphysical reaction. It is all a direct depiction of what we are manifesting. The same is especially true when we feel and act upon sexual excitement. Our bodies yearn to connect and create. As if that were not enough, being the dynamically spiritual vessels that we are, we attract, carry and travel with entities that most can not see. The nature of these entities and their direct affect on our lives is contingent upon our frequency or our emotions, and our train of thought. Needless to say, they are very much present when any sexual ritual, casual or formal, takes place. These entities not only mate with and through the vessels, they mate with one another. I speak from experience. During masturbation, when I intentionally channel particular hypersexual energies that leave me with an altered persona, my chakras wide open and my very being plunged in ecstasy, I find myself subject to scratches. Now, regardless of how enticing that may or may not sound, knowing my predicament, I should be doing a spiritual cleansing or spiritual bath before and perhaps even after I engage in sexual rituals, solitary or accompanied. But because I AM experienced in working with spirit and AM particularly intrigued in exploring the happenings, I have not begun conjuring or testing a remedy. Though, I will be sure to do so in the near future, as I hope to find the choice counterpart and will be sure to aid in their protection, if they so wish. When I complete the task, I will be sure to update the blog. Perhaps, I will discuss how the channeling is accomplished, but all to come in a later publication. I digress.

As a responsible occultist who has had her fair share of sexual liberation, understanding these esoteric truths gives me reasonable doubt when considering partnered sex of any nature. Any one looking to manage the energy in their space must first ask: Who is this person? What energy could their day to day activities, that remain mysterious during our casual encounters, bring to my body or to my mind? What emotional turmoil are they privately suffering with that could disrupt my hard-earned balance? Orgasm aside, how is their very presence, their conversation and even their thoughts about me affecting me? Yes, how someone views you and especially how they speak of you casts a spell on you as well. You can have the most intrinsically existential sex ever with the perfect noncommittal arrangement, part ways and how that person speaks of you will work on you much longer than will the orgasm they gave you. If this person does not respect your being and your body, then the energy that seeps from them can only be harmful. It is best for your long term happiness to highly scrutinize to whom you reveal your glory and bestow your blessing. Now, Men may feel that this doesn’t apply to them due to them not having a vagina. Oh, that’s only a chick thing. Well, due to you being void of a physical opening, you in turn struggle to open metaphysically. Those of a male manifestation who have had the benefit of opening to the Universe and tuning into their hidden feminine frequency and therefore have aggressively invested in their own power and blessings, you relate to the tenet and we can move forward.

Have you ever witnessed a socially adept individual whose sexual and material lifestyle spurs envy, eventually become depressed and even suicidal? Yet, the lone wolf “weirdo” who takes pleasures in the abstract, the spiritual, tends to hold a slice of ethereal bliss that the previous could never hope to obtain, while also being better lovers. Be not animal; refine thy rapture

I write this exposition from a place of pain. I have the worst memories of literally not being able to think straight because of what I allowed to take place on and inside of me from men who wished me misery. Negative energy, demons, jins, devils, all plant seeds of or give birth to emotional instability and disease. Nights of sitting alone in the middle of the living room floor screaming in hysteria still haunt me from the control I surrendered to the ill willed. Countless times of making countless phone calls ignoring the signs of my “relationships” energetic imbalance still embarrass me. Mind you, the sex was horrible most of the time, either too short and/or too quick and definitely uncreative. But I opened my heart and my mind to being with someone who never had any intention of seeing me happy with him or her. Instead, I was a receptacle for their low self-esteem. But when I found my ancestors and their presence made physical manifestation in my life, I was given the opportunity to elevate my consciousness and wake up to my state and to that of those the world over. As a freed woman, I chose to cherish what I have consciously crafted as my body and embrace the destiny I chose by being born on November 21^st, The Cusp of Revolution.

As so above, so below,

The Huntress

The Verdict of the Female Child

| CLXXXVI |

Occultists and metaphysicists alike debate our current place in the cosmic stream of time. One significant telltale is the unbridled lack of gratitude of Man. Like all beings, they crave and require love, beknown to them or not, and will do the most desperate and depraved of things to obtain it. After all, when they pillage they rape. Be them Black, White, Hispanic or Asian, there is an Age-old complex that they are worth more and capable of more than what they truly are. Their mothers, sisters, daughters, but especially their wives, Originators of Life itself, are casted as receptacles for their mismanaged emotional dilemma. Despite desperate attempts to heal and assist their male counterparts, Woman yields no result when desperately battling undeveloped interpersonal skills. Even when Man is of the highest of intellect and success, productive conversation is sacrificed for shouting fits of anger; spawning physical altercation, verbal abuse and when the opportunity presents itself, their established neglect turns abandonment. Their pack raised tenet that fear equates to respect manifests as disregard for their feminine Source. They raise their sons and their friends to believe that if the entity does not possess a penis its thoughts are worthless, if it has them at all. The mind of Woman is frozen and helpless in the provincial outlook of their male “superiors”. Man has spiritually surrendered to nothing, mastering only chronic masturbation. The danger being, when Self is your sole focal point, You deny Yourself the privilege and the responsibility of identifying with your evolutionary equal.

Unfortunately, though, when Woman makes a philosophical contribution to the conversation, if She is even perceived as present, He succumbs to instant bewilderment. “It spoke and it made a point far too logical for my manual stroke to soothe. What ever shall I do as the dominant figure the current Aeon? I know, hit it.”, with all ambiguity implied. The very presence of this unbalanced view in society is the very proof that the cosmic slate as yet to be wiped clean. Yet, how are we, as She, incapable?

When Swastikas were stitched, heads of households and even their regents sent overseas, the powers that be forced Woman to withdraw Her open hand and provide for both Herself and Her children. Upon return, though, He found the current ever changed. With gained self-esteem and a lessened need for monetary provision, Woman packaged respect along with Her criterium for love and companionship. A lack of such, is indicative of the measure of the particular entity. Thus, choose wisely.

Decades fast forwarded, Man remains unprepared to do more than what is no longer required by the Mother, two thirds of the Universal equation. Coupled with their general lack of desire to evolve passed what their forefathers deemed the norm, men now retaliate with heightened aggression. In order to accommodate the primordial and therefore merited egotisms, both sexes must relinquish the demand for indentured emotional slavery in exchange for metaphysical generosity. Seeing Self and serving that Self in the other person protects and preserves the ever so sensitive ego that would otherwise be catastrophically destructive.

As so above, so below,

The Huntress

Cum Stained Comforters

| CLXV |

When we first met, his King-sized Serta was the amenity that sealed the deal. It was the “best sleep I’ve ever had”. It was a Stark contrast to the twin sized mattress I had been reduced to sharing with my five year old at my mother’s house, which, most of the time resulted in me making even less desirable accommodations on the floor with a solitary pillow, no blanket. He was my hero, of sorts, no cape, just a King-sized Serta and cable. For once, I was on clouds, instead of buried alone under cum stained comforters that I couldn’t afford to wash, my Savior with a Serta. Now, after eight months of corny courtship and one year of less than mediocre marriage, our mattress is lumpy and uneven and he doesn’t make enough to replace it. Needless to say, this has a bearing on my firm yet somehow fluffy fairytale of matrimonial bliss. What’s a girl to do when her standards of comfort have out grown her husband’s pockets? What’s the purpose of Serta sentimentality when my back remains unblown, the toilet runs incessantly, the window units are insufficient, and my hair and nails are undone for the twelfth consecutive month? I find myself flashing a food stamp card instead of my dust of diamond ring. But I don’t know which inhibits me more, the card that says that I, married at 27, can’t afford to feed myself or the fact that my marriage is symbolized by a ring that was too cheap to pawn to pay the bills. He spent two grand to stroke Kay’s jeweler. Every kiss since started bitterly, so I stopped wearing the sucker.  I didn’t marry a man 17 years my senior to go without. But, was he ever truly my provider? I mean, when we met I made twice as much at my job than he did at his two. Now that I’ve been encumbered with unemployment, what was once mistaken for shining armor is now dull and his white horse, a mangy mule. I wish my memory served me better. Was my money his extra or vice versa? I don’t know. I just wish my hair and nails were done. 

As so above, so below,

The Huntress