An anonymous person queried: “How did you learn to be lucid in Dreams? And why doesn’t ‘coffee or tea?’ has a rum option?”
Through obstinate stubbornness, repetition, and a close study of how the waking world operates.
1,015 rambling words.
For Want of a Feather
I had received missives from Malphas while I was away on the last trip to the Path of Vau. They were short and to the point and I swear I could hear him giggle in nefarious delight. Would I be a dear and obtain a crow feather for him? The largest that I could obtain, and prepared for use as a writing quill, if it wasn’t much of a bother.
2,063 words.
Dream Journal: 2013-05-24.02
“Raven. Hello.” My shroud is in tatters, exposing one breast. I care not for my modesty. The ravens had torn it in their… play… with me earlier. I bore fresh gouges on my shoulders from them. Gouges that were packed with bone ash after. The wounds will scar as was their intention. But I do not understand why.
620 words.
The Witching Hour
Blessings Darlings!
There’s a lot of references to “The Witching Hour” in popular culture. Mundanely, it can refer to the time of day when things are at their worst – the rush time a job, the time of day when the newborn is ALWAYS cranky(…)
Dream Journal: 2013-05-24.01
“Yea!” “We have Reenactment Thursdays!” “Donuts and coffee on Tuesdays!” “It’s always Tuesday.” “I’m not complaining!” “Nothing hurts anymore and I don’t worry about shit anymore.”
1,236 words.
Charmed, I’m sure.
Blessings Darlings!
A recent question, not asked to me exactly, but posted online: “This is going to sound silly, but I love to have all my pieces with me,
particularly the ones that function as jewelry, so my question(…)
The Cave and the Cathedral
I don’t know why I feel like I’m saying ‘goodbye’ for the last time to Snake. Why I feel like I’m going to my death. As if regardless if I am successful and able to answer Lord Asmodel’s summons or not, I will be irrevocably changed and the Weaver that returns will be nothing like the Weaver that left. I reflect on the few times in this life I have felt the same impending destruction. The memories do nothing to settle my stomach and I force my mind blank.
I pull the Thoth Hierophant card from my pocket. “Open the way to the Path of Vau, that I may proceed!” The character in the card turns his hand in the same gesture as turning a key. There is a flash of light followed by the dissolution into darkness.
4,112 words.
Prayers to Flidais
This first prayer is one I use when making offerings, but it could easily be adapted to use as an invocation in ritual:
Prayer to Flidais Foltchaoin
Flidais of the soft hair
Lover, wife, and mother
whose magical(…)
It’s All Gray
There was only me, the devastation, and the sound of a little girl crying. I took a step, and noted I wore no shoes, but had panther feet. I was in the deathshroud of a Boneburner. Black raven wings came from my back, and my hands were more talon than human. I wore my deathmask, but it was featureless.
To my surprise, I found a familiar cord tied around my waist. Hanging off the cord was Horatio’s skull trinket, and a pair of iron skeleton keys of different lengths. The cord was securely knotted. I wondered why those would show up when I was in Boneburner mode but was soon distracted from the musing.
I took another step. The crying stopped. I didn’t need the sound to find her. I could smell her. It took some digging, but I found the girl’s broken body. Her spirit was trapped within it. As I pulled her free and picked her up, she started crying again.
4,904 words. Reader discretion is advised.
Ask Keri: What was the “high price”?
From Tumblr, an anonymous person asked: “Hi! New reader and I am lost/confused about the shells that have been mentioned, and the “high price” that was paid for them. What was the price?”
691 words.