Witches do not always stand with their feet inside of a salt circle.
They do not perpetually speak in chants, nor do they weigh their pockets witch pillar candles and incense sticks.
You can find them in coffee shops, whispering to their cup as they stir it purposefully in a counterclockwise direction (banishing whatever flack they got earlier).
You can find a witch in the dressing room of a thrift shop, touching the mirror and enchanting it to show the onlooker how beautiful they are, no matter what they wear.
You can find them in animal shelters, cuddling with the black dog or cat, debating whether or not they can take them home.
You can find a witch in demolished cities, drawing sigils in the dust. You can find them planting gardens for food when a hurricane or tornado stole every seed ever planted in the area.
You can find them fiddling with a phone, cleaning off the screen to scry with. They blow away the grime, the energy, and the distractions.
You can find a witch hesitating as they hand a document to the mailcarrier- “wait, I forgot something, they say, kissing their letter before sending it.
You can find them in libraries, sifting through the pages of a book called “Wuthering Heights”. They flip to a seemingly meaningless page… But you’re wrong. They’re not finding out what happens later. They are divining their future (stichomancy is a wonderful tool).
You can find a witch anywhere, doing anything. And what they do with intent, energy, and power is magic.
I’ve decided to do another giveaway to show my appreciation to all of my followers and to promote new updates to my shop! I’ll try to keep this one short and sweet.
First place: -A scarf hand knit by me -A sample of my favorite rose tea -A crystal ball ring -An Aventurine Tree of Life pendant -A Rainbow Moonstone cabochon pendant -Wishes charm bottle -A wire-wrapped Moss Agate pendant -A large chunk of raw Amber -Forest scented incense -”The Rose Collection” Jasmine candle -Druid’s Heart charm bottle
Second place: -A three-card tarot reading by me -Pressed wildflowers in a floating glass frame -Rose tea as mentioned above -A crystal ball ring -Custom spell jar
Third place: -A three card tarot reading by me -Custom spell jar
The rules are as follows: –Check out my shop here! After all, many of these products are from my shop! Favoriting my shop is a bonus! -Use coupon code OSTARA18 for 20% off any purchase until March 31 -Do not tag as giveaway. If you do, you will not win. -Both likes and reblogs count as entries -Must be following me to win. After all, this giveaway is to show appreciation to my followers -Giveaway ends on April 9, 2018 -Have fun!
Here is the new page of the comic! There are some of my characters here, random ones too and others, inspired by your requests ♥
“Anyone can be a witch” is a very important theme! To me, everyone can do and be whatever they want! And, in that case, anyone can be a witch, any girl or boy, trans or non-binary person, old, young, Indian, Asian, black people or people from any country, any disabled and sick people, anyone and everyone can be a witch! Because I think this quote sums everything up, “Witches don’t look like anything, Witches are, Witches do.” ✨🌿🌘🔮
Lots of love to all the witches of this world ✧*:･ﾟ🌍
You are a psychic medieval swordsmith, with the ability to see the future of every sword you make. This sword you just forged will kill the king.
You hide it. There is no time to destroy it, not when the woman who is to have it expects it very soon. You spend the followings days and nights slaving away over flames, working to create another sword. If this sword is also destined to kill the king, then it is the woman. You will not sell to her. If not… well, you will figure something out.
The king is… not a good king, but you have a roof for you and your daughter, and you put food on the table, and you are grateful. It’s all you can ask for.
So it is with relief that you hand the newly made sword to your commissioner. She will use it to fight a group of thieves near a town that is miles away. That’s as far from the king as one can get, and better yet, it’s far from your home as well. The king-killing sword is hidden under a floorboard upstairs.
Everything is fine.
The king imposes a new set of laws. Taxes are raised. Those who cannot pay them are taken off to jail, no warning. There are whispers going around, that the king is up to something, that he has lost trust in his own citizens, that he does not care if he hurts them.
You think guiltily to the sword upstairs, holding a prophesy you do not dare reveal. You say nothing.
People are starving in the streets. There are so many children without families. You can feel the kingdom crumpling.
You tell your daughter to come home earlier and earlier. Lately knights are roaming the towns, and they are brutal men. Your daughter has a strength of her own – and she in fact fights you on every curfew – but while she is only a snake, they are wolves. You cannot risk another loss.
More rumors spread. Talks of rebellion, which are squashed and otherwise dealt with. Then whispers of rebellion, so quiet they take weeks to travel. But travel they do, and they bring hope with them, a dangerous feeling.
Your daughter disappears for hours at a time, sometimes coming home after curfew. You yell and worry and look her in the eyes, trying to get her to see that the world isn’t safe anymore. But she only smiles. Promises you that she’s safe. That she loves you.
There is something she’s not telling you, and it dances in the shadows of your mind, always.
—
Suddenly, a secret comes to light. The king is looking for a girl. A girl who is prophesied to kill him. It sounds like the raging of a paranoid man, but you know better than most how true prophesies are.
He has begun rounding up the daughters of everyone, rich or poor, looking for the girl that fits the prophecy. When he finds her, she will die.
You pack. You gather your things and your daughter’s. People are getting angry, you’ve heard of a revolution that’s coming, and that’s the perfect cover to leave under. No one will notice you and your daughter in the chaos.
Night comes, and your daughter is not yet home. You can hear yelling in the streets, fighting, panic. You rush, grabbing anything you can hold on your back. The rebellion started sooner than you planned, and it’s the best you can do on such short notice.
After a moment of hesitation, you run upstairs to the floorboard that hides the fated sword. Prophecy or no, you won’t waste a weapon.
When you pry up the floor, it is gone.
—
You run to the castle. Around you, citizens fight with the might of a people angered. Bodies and blood litter the ground, but you hardly notice.
You have one goal in mind: find your daughter.
—
There is so much carnage. It does not hit you until you reach the castle steps, and find them drenched in blood. It pools, sticky and horrifying underneath your shoes.
You continue on.
The entrance gates are smashed open, and fallen trees rest nearby, indicating how it was done.
The giant hall before you reveals a massacre. It isn’t clear which side took the most losses.
You run, trying to block the carnage from your mind, and finally you reach the throne room.
There you find your daughter. There you find the king. There you find the sword.
She holds it loosely, confidently, but her eyes betray the waves of emotion she feels. She doesn’t notice your presence.
“A king doesn’t let his people starve! A king doesn’t cause poverty to sweep through his kingdom! A king doesn’t throw people in dungeons for the poverty he caused!”
With each sentence, she takes a step forward. With each of her steps forward, the king takes a step back. He is silent, face pale.
“You are no king.” She hisses. “Your people die around you and you do nothing. That prophecy was only an excuse to further your reign of terror. Look where your prophecy has led you now.”
She raises the sword.
You forgot, in all your worry, that yes, wolves can bite. But snakes can, too. And snakes have venom.
—
It takes months to find a new semblance of normality.
The king had no family but his son, who fled with the nobility to the four corners of the world at the first signs of trouble, dispersing like wind.
They don’t come back.
The people rally before your daughter. She is a killer of a king now. They call her a hero.
It is not a shock that the next person upon the throne is her. She’s always had oceans in her eyes that you knew could conquer any ship.
She helps, far more than any ruler before her. It takes time, but the kingdom is prosperous once again. You let go of your craft. You’ve had enough of prophecies to last a lifetime.
You create one last thing, however, before you are done for good.
The king’s old crown is destroyed, as soaked in crimson as it is. You make a new one.
It’s a work in progress, as you’ve only ever made weapons, but it comes out breathtaking.
You don’t know if you’ll get any visions of the future, as it’s not a sword, but that apparently doesn’t matter.
As you give the crown away, as you watch it placed on your daughter’s head, as you hear the cheers of the people, you get just a glimpse of something near.
It’s over in a flash, and you smile, watching as your daughter addresses the world as it’s queen.
“Water does not resist. Water flows. When you plunge your hand into it, all you feel is a caress. Water is not a solid wall, it will not stop you. But water always goes where it wants to go, and nothing in the end can stand against it. Water is patient. Dripping water wears away a stone. Remember that, my child. Remember you are half water. If you can’t go through an obstacle, go around it. Water does.”
Candlelight-magick 