Storm

My journeys in Europe and England have temporarily come to an end. As of yet, I have not have had the legal (and spiritual) liberty to add to my collection of stories. Now that my period of fear and silence has passed, I shall take pen to paper once more and immortalize an event. I regret to say that as of again, I’m forced to use pseudonyms and narrate the incident as a mere story instead as a record of magickal lore.

In the months following an unwanted meeting with a witch, I had taken refuge in a village fringing a deep, prosperous valley. I had taken ill and was under the care of the “elite” matronly figures of the area. They spoke often of “evil doings” and warned me not to face east at any cost, as it would impede my healing process. However I was allowed to take walks (in an easterly direction) every pleasant evening. The path passes a ring of trees almost circular in arrangement, which protects a clear pond, as perfect in geometry as naturally possibly and ringed with lush grass. I find myself incapable of describing the complete beauty of the place when inhibited by another goal.

On one such walk, having exerted my body overmuch, intending to soak my feet in that heavenly pond, I wandered off the path. Standing a few feet away, I enjoyed the fresh, dewy scent that comes naturally to such areas.

I had yet to step through the young beeches when I witnessed one of the most peculiar sights in my career.

A brown-haired girl, sitting cross-legged besides the water had one hand touching the water surface so gently, it appeared not to disturb it. Her eyes matched the water in everything but intensity and seemed to quiver in the failing light of the sun. I watched entranced as a body of water rose up in a channel and developed into what could only be described as a water sculpture. The sculpture of water revolved slowly and soon broke its connection to the pond. I watched and saw fine features appear with the terror etched across them. The watery strands of hair shifted with every murmur of air and moved occasionally across the face. Sensing suddenly the complete stillness, I moved away as quickly and quietly as my aching body would allow.

Later, safe and tucked away in my bed, I began my questions and encouraged the ladies to talk about the village people. I learned about the village witch with the unusual name of Crystia and strange little Nilith “who was never thirsty”. That was all the relevant information I could gather about her and thus began my extensive and tiresome search elsewhere. This lead to a conclusion so bizarre that my removal from your mind set must be complete for you comprehension.

* * *

Nilith pranced over the hill under the clear night sky relishing her accomplishment. Crystia had said that she could do anything with water as soon as she could get it to bend wholly to her will.

Nilith was one of the counted few Water Elementals. These are beings who could connect spiritually to water and who could control it when properly trained by a magical one, in this case, a witch.

Moments later, she was standing inside Crystia’s house glowing with pride.

“I saw your achievement.” The woman said, pointing to an enchanted mirror.

Neither had to speak further. They sat down at a simple, scrubbed wooden table with its lonely cup and saucer. The cup decorated meticulously with clouds and rain was separated from the saucer and pushed towards Nilith. Crystia waved her hand, the roof of the cottage disappeared, exposing them to the chill night air. Her lips moved in an incantation and their raised eyes took in the quickly brewing storm overhead.

Nilith summoned all her energy and strengthened her calava (energy aura) and directed her attention at the storm. In a gust of damp wind, the sky was clear once again and surprised cries of the distant thoroughfare could be heard.

Both the occupants of the cottage peered eagerly into the cup seeing their aim accomplished. A storm in a teacup.

Suffice to say this concerned area experienced surprising weather changes that were mostly in the good of the people. My contact said that things returned to normal a few years later and the only marked incident that concerns us is that once, Nilith, now a grown woman was seen sobbing over fragments of a teacup and its saucer lying in a pool of cold water.