Page 13 of His in the Dark

There is still hope.

My doubts are soft at first. They creep in like weeds in a garden, growing under the soil and in the night before one knows that they’ve put down roots. By the time they sprout, they have gone much deeper into the earth than it first appears.

The doubts in my mind sprout like those weeds, budding above the earth and bursting into my mind in full bloom.

What happens if this spell goes wrong?The phrasing on this spell is not specific, nor does it include the true reason behind its workings or even the true reason for its casting as my particular need is unique.

There is another fear among the others I had not expected to face.

What happens if the spell goesright?

What happens if my power comes back in a firestorm that grows beyond my wildest imagination and it causes great attention and my father’s wrath?

A shiver passes through me.

Even with my intentions focused as they are, I cannot predict the outcome. My mother’s warnings scream in the back of my head.Be careful of your thoughts. Magic happens with a dollop of humor. It is often delivered in a way you weren't expecting and could never have predicted. You’ll get what you want, but how and what else comes with it is often unexpected... Not always in delighted ways.

Magic is a little like planting an unknown seed in a fertile patch of dirt. One will not know the shape of the flower or the color of its petals until it blooms. One must wait for the greenery to peek above the earth and show itself. One can only hope that the outcome will be good, but there is no guarantee in gardening. It could result in the infestation of shrubbery that shades and smothers the other flowers in the garden. But the seed that you planted will rise. And isn’t that what you asked for? What was prayed for even?

There is no guarantee in magic, either.

I arrange the items carefully on my altar, touching each one as if it is something precious. Itissomething precious. The crystals and candle I have brought with me are a part of my magic, just as the altar is. The obsidian sphere is small but mighty, a gift from someone long ago that I cannot remember.The small bottle of smokey quartz chips sits next to it, and as the tips of my fingers brush against it, I pray for the ease of burdens on my mind.

Just as the space around me dwells in magic. Just as I dwell in magic. It is part of me, and I am part of it, too.

“If Beatrice can do this, I can as well,” I say softly, letting my mother’s certainty smooth my voice. I repeat what she always says, “For the good of all and to the harm of none, I am divinely guided, divinely protected and I pray to you now and thank you for the blessings you bestow upon me.”

I sit on the floor close to the low altar. Seated this way, I am as near as I will ever be to the mortal world and centered within the heart of Olympus. For a flicker of a moment I can feel the prayers from those in the mortal realm, the cries and pleas for me to aid them and I vaguely wonder if they start their asking with the same quote. And yet I know I have no power to grant their prayers. The thought is only a flicker of a moment, faster than the light of the white candles and it’s gone, vanished and I send it away. It is no more that I cannot answer them. “It is no more,” I whisper.

I breathe in deeply, feeling the warmth of the air all around me. The safety of my chambers, and the safety of my home. I concentrate until I can feel the light of the stars and moon shining through my window.

Then I lay my hand over the crystals, positioned to the right side of the altar, the amethyst for power and black tourmaline for protection. Both rough to the touch and yet a soothing balm to my soul.

The heat from my palm seeps into the stone.

My first thought is that it's living heat, seeping into a dead thing. But that isn't right. The crystals are alive, just as I am. They don't have a heartbeat or veins or blood, but they haveenergies within them, energies that connect to the oldest parts of the world. To before I was born and they will survive me.

I whisper, “I connect to the void that existed even before there was a world. I am part of the universe, and the universe is magic. I am magic.”

I close my eyes and concentrate on the warmth transferring from my palm to the stone. Light, transferring to darkness. My head falls back just slightly as a warmth grows in my womb. A dash of power resonates through me as I focus on it, feeling the pleasure of it all.

That is how magic transferred to me when I was formed and born. The universe transferred its magic to me, and I lived, and I breathed, and I was magic. Magic existed long before I was created, and I will dwell in it for as long as I live.

I imagine lighting the unlit wick of the candles that lay on the altar, darkness flaring into heat. It's a transfer of energy, like the same transfers that have been made many times before. I only need to allow it.

Beatrice's words echo in my memory.The divine is within you.

“The divine is within me,” I repeat out loud. If that is so, then I should not need Beatrice to light candles for me. I should be able to light them myself, with my own divinity. I need not tell anyone else of the dreams or the darkness within them. The light is within me as much as the darkness in my dreams.

“The divine is within me,” I say again, allowing strength to come to my voice. “It has always been within me. I will allow it to dwell in me and flow from me to the wick. The divine is within me and with me, and I can bring light to the darkness.” I do not dare to peek and see if the candles are lit.

Allow for the possibility.

For the first time since I became aware of the fading of my powers, the possibility is there before me. I focus on it growing and I feel it pulse through me, like blood in my veins.

I am a goddess. Not a garden nymph, or a nymph of the forest. Not a pale echo of my mother. Not powerless at all. But filled with the power of warmth and light.

“Protect me from all things that wish me harm. Guide me to safety for my powers. Whatever ails me, cannot reach me any longer.” I repeat the incantation over and over.

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