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Moira's out of jail, off from work, and now she has a rare moment entirely to herself. She grins. Her feet begin their path to the beach almost of their own accord; she knows the way as well as the skin on the back of her hand. A slight breeze ripples through her light summer dress. She carries nothing else with her but her satchel, filled with various magical apparatus.
She feels the magic flowing through her veins, as rough as sea salt. It itches, eager to get out, and this evening, she is of a mind to let it. She passes by her sweet little cottage, tucked away in the dunes like a sea shell. She allows herself a small smile, anticipating the left over strawberry shortcake she has stored in her fridge.
Tonight, she is free, empowered, ready for magic, and fully clothed. She continues at a steady pace until she reaches the edge of the water just behind her house. Her grin widens.
She drops her satchel at her feet before tracing a circle in the sand with her foot. She pauses, murmuring an ancient, Gaelic blessing before closing it. She takes out a small sapphire, her chosen instrument for the moment. Briefly, she pauses to scan the area around her. Utterly alone. Perfect.
She begins murmuring incantations, sweet, beautiful incantations she found in an ancestor's Book of Shadows. They are words of harmony, peace, and inspiration, and as she utters them, she begins to weave the sapphire in the air, in time with her words.
Sparks of light, as cobalt as the New England ocean, start to fly out before forming ribbons of smoke-like material, transforming into runes, letters, words, animals, and various other shapes. Tonight, Moira is using magic solely to bring herself peace. Tonight, she is strengthening herself by practicing illusionary spells.
Tonight, a shiver runs through her that has nothing to do with the breeze.
She feels the magic flowing through her veins, as rough as sea salt. It itches, eager to get out, and this evening, she is of a mind to let it. She passes by her sweet little cottage, tucked away in the dunes like a sea shell. She allows herself a small smile, anticipating the left over strawberry shortcake she has stored in her fridge.
Tonight, she is free, empowered, ready for magic, and fully clothed. She continues at a steady pace until she reaches the edge of the water just behind her house. Her grin widens.
She drops her satchel at her feet before tracing a circle in the sand with her foot. She pauses, murmuring an ancient, Gaelic blessing before closing it. She takes out a small sapphire, her chosen instrument for the moment. Briefly, she pauses to scan the area around her. Utterly alone. Perfect.
She begins murmuring incantations, sweet, beautiful incantations she found in an ancestor's Book of Shadows. They are words of harmony, peace, and inspiration, and as she utters them, she begins to weave the sapphire in the air, in time with her words.
Sparks of light, as cobalt as the New England ocean, start to fly out before forming ribbons of smoke-like material, transforming into runes, letters, words, animals, and various other shapes. Tonight, Moira is using magic solely to bring herself peace. Tonight, she is strengthening herself by practicing illusionary spells.
Tonight, a shiver runs through her that has nothing to do with the breeze.
