Lyra(2022)
The path that Lyra had taken had been that of an eclectic witch, focusing mainly on crystals, herbology, and divination. Her favorite form of the latter being Tarot, it was the clearest way to receive messages for her. Crystals were strategically placed all around the cottage and even throughout the entire forest. Their energies were being used , intentionally, specifically, and generally to bring positive vibes and good luck to those around the area. They became a constant in her craft, and it brought her immense joy to be able to feel and utilize their energy in spells and various rituals. Mainly for that of the yearly celebrations near and dear to a witch of any type. The wheel of the year hung on the wall behind her in the form of a beautifully large tapestry. It had been painted in vibrant colors, coordinating to the symbols in the wheel. She often admired it when she came home, and it was one of her favorite tapestries.
When she looked out the window again, the blended pinks and purples that colored the sky were her cue to begin work outside. Night time would be soon and preparations for her Samhain ritual would need to start now, if she were to complete it by midnight. Samhain, also referred to as "The Witch's New Year," was Lyra's favorite time of celebration, well actually favorite time of year to be frank. The nights were beautiful, cool, but not cold enough to be uncomfortable outside, and the stars shone the brightest. Night time was when Lyra felt most connected to her higher self, and was more in tune to the spirit guides that surrounded her. It was the 31st of October and the start of the celebration of life, death, and rebirth. Every year for the past four years, she would perform the same ritual to start off the season, honoring the goddesses and gods of the night, as well as the harvest that allowed her to get through the harsh winter. The next night, she would perform a ritual to honor those that have passed on, been forgotten, or lingered on Earth, as well as her ancestors, though she had no clue who they actually were.
Lyra let out a deep breath, stretching her limbs, and made her way to the kitchen to gather the tools, herbs, and oils she would need to prepare. She reached on the top of her herb shelf and took the mugwort, rosemary, wormwood, and dragon's blood jars, each labeled and closed tight with twine wrapped around each one deliberately. The top shelf held the most important herbs she collected, and she made sure to ward them and protect them from any evil or negative energies that made their way into her home. She placed them on the kitchen table, and made her way to her oil cabinet. Plucking the vials of sandalwood, anise and thyme, she placed them next to the herbs on the table. Her eyes scanned the kitchen for her cauldron, and her mortar and pestle. She located them at the end of her counter and went to grab them as well as the fairly sized woven basket. When she was finished placing the rest of the items into the basket, she made her way to the backyard. There was a little wooden shed that stood about thirty feet from her back door, and behind it was a thick layer of trees that kept her cottage hidden from the rest of the world. Only a small driveway leading from the side of the place led to the one dirt road that she'd often take to the town with her truck. Other than that, it was all forest that surrounded her, and she was content with this. She hadn't really outgrown her solitary life, but she'd managed to get the socialization she needed from encounters with the locals in town. That was plenty for her to be honest.
When she reached the shed, she grabbed the key from her neck and opened it to her altar. It was beautifully and skillfully decorated in honor of Samhain. Hues of purple, black and burgundy peppered the cloth that lay on the altar, and on top of it were symbols of what the holiday stood for, along with the basic objects that stayed year round. Aside from her crystals, symbols of the elements, and three spell jars, there lay a bird skull, acquired from scavenging the forest, at the right corner. She had placed mulled wine in a delicate glass in the center, and surrounded it with dried leaves, acorns, and nuts. She would leave offerings to the gods and goddesses of the season after her ritual in thanks. Mainly offerings to Hekate, Selene and Leto, both goddesses of the night, and ones that she felt the closest connection to. The last thing she would place on her altar would be the ashes from the ritual she would perform, to symbolize death as well. The oak floor beneath her bare feet was chilled, but not something that was uncomfortable. There was a white circle of runes placed strategically around a similarly white pentacle, and lined around that was a circle of white and black candles, all symbols of protection, good luck, and the elements. She moved to light all of them and placed the basket just outside the circle before taking a seat at the center of the pentagram.
As she pulled the herbs, oils, and tools from the basket, she began to cast her protective circle, something that she did before anything involving her craft. Lyra closed her eyes and began to envision a bright light being pushed from her center and around her figure. She'd imagined the light expanding around her and the shed. With her eyes kept closed, she continued to take slow, deliberate breaths, to steady herself before she grounded herself.
She had barely begun grounding herself, when she heard a twig snap in the dead silence of the coming night, pulling her out of her forming trance. She whipped around to see she hadn't closed the door. Confused, she shrugged and went to close the door when she heard an animalistic whine. Almost as if there were an injured animal in her yard. Curious, Lyra slowly made her way out of her shed and into the yard. She scanned the yard for the cause of the noise, and her eyes widened in fear, and in shock. She heard a few more twigs snap, indicating the source was getting closer to her. She heard a whimper, and suddenly a large wolf, covered in midnight fur hobbled out of the thick cover of trees. As the wolf made his way over to her, Lyra stayed completely still, not wanting to startle the wolf. Its large, crystal eyes never wavered from her silver ones, and it made its way to her until only about 8 feet remained between them. They both stood there as if all time had stopped, both of them frozen in place, desperately trying to figure out the other's next move.
It felt like a lifetime had gone by, Lyra was almost sure of it as she snapped out of it. The creature let out another whimper, and her eyes immediately went to the injured front leg of the humongous wolf. She looked into its eyes again, this time, with a sympathetic look. She wanted to help heal it, she couldn't bear for any of earth's creatures to be in pain, even those that would swallow her whole in a heartbeat. Almost as if the wolf understood her, it creeped over to her, its expression damn near humanlike. She felt a connection to this creature, and she felt deep down that it meant her no harm at all, yet her anxiety didn't allow her that comfort. She was wary as it made its way over.
Closing the small distance, the wolf plopped down on its hind, and gave her a small pleading look. "You're a bit hurt aren't you?" She questioned sarcastically, and she swore she heard it laugh. "Well, if you promise to not bite me, I'd like to help you the best I can." She said hopeful that it would take her help, wolves were reliant on their front paws for survival, and if left untreated, it could become infected. The wolf actually gave a stiff nodd and ushered her towards her cottage with its characteristically wet nose. "Okay okay! I know the way to my own home, you goof" Her laughter rang through the trees, and the wolf scoffed, trailing behind her.
Lyra saw the wolf struggling to fit through the door, and she was about to go and assist, when the wolf pushed himself, rather clumsily, through, breaking the frame. He tumbled into the front room and into the coffee table, spilling the contents. She wanted to be mad that he broke the door frame, and nearly her coffee table, but she could only laugh, earning an annoyed look from the humanoid like wolf. She snapped out of her laughter, remembering that this was in fact a wolf, and her anxiety spiked to a new height. She let out a strangled cough, and announced she was going to get the medical supplies from her bathroom cabinet. She didn't have much in the way of medical supplies, but they would help clean the wound, close it up, and wrap it.
When she made her way back to the front room, she saw it sprawled out on its stomach facing the kitchen. Its ears perked up when she entered the room, and she gave a small smile. "Can you lie on your uninjured side please?" She asked, hoping it would understand her like before, and when it did just that, she was surprised, surely this wolf couldn't understand what she was saying, unless she was going crazy. There was no way that this was real, she thought. If this was a dream, this was an awfully realistic one. Everything felt real. "This can't be real, this is a dream, wolves don't understand people unless..." she began out loud, and caught the attention of the creature, she couldn't say it was a wolf anymore. The creature looked at her expectantly, as if to say she was completely right. "You aren't a normal wolf are you?" She asked as she knelt next to the injured limb. Her hands were shaky as she got out the supplies from the kit that she needed. She examined its, well his body, and determined that the only injury was the right front leg. The wolf gave a slight nod, and closed his eyes in pain as she applied some disinfectant to the wound. It would need a few stitches, she was sure of it, but if he was truly a werewolf, he might only need a bandage.
She quickly bandaged and taped the leg up, and rose from her spot on the floor. She made her way into the kitchen and grabbed a few herbs from herself, and got a small empty jar from her cabinet. She remembered one of the large leather books that held a lot of information on shifter wolves and lycans. It was, in her assumption, a fictional, or mythical book that encapsulated her the very moment she opened it. Though she didn't think it was factual at the time, she remembered that certain herbs would help one of their kind heal better. She quickly poured the correct amount into the jar and went to heat up some water. She could hear the snoring from the front room, and she knew he was fast asleep from the sheer exhaustion. She could tell he'd been wandering for some time before he came upon her cottage. She hadn't seen or heard, for that matter, any wolves nearby in the four years that she'd been here. So he had to cross some distance to get here.
When the kettle started to scream she pulled it off of the stovetop and let it cool down some. Suddenly, she remembered the cabinet of oils also held a few healing potions, ones that should be ready by now. It was a difficult process that required three weeks of preparations, and contained some of the same herbs as the ones she was going to make his tea with. She quickly went over to the cabinet and grabbed one, that should be enough, she told herself. The tea and the potion would ensure his healing to be above adequate, and he would be able to go back to his pack sooner. Roughly three days, rather than five, and she was content with that. She didn't know if she'd be able to handle an awkwardly large and clumsy wolf in her cottage for longer than that. With shaky hands lyra gathered the tea, and the potion, well it was more of an elixir, but same same she guessed. She made a mental note to make more healing elixirs as soon as possible, and turned towards the front room, and in clear Lyra fashion, she nearly fumbled over her own feet.
Midnight, the name she'd decided on for the time being, lay breathing less than evenly on the wood floor, the wound on his leg no longer gushing blood. Lyra attempted to reign in her nerves as she approached the sleeping mess of fur. She was anxious about how he would respond to being woken up, even if he was somewhat human, his wolf was most likely in control, needing all the energy he could to heal. Which most likely meant he would be unable to shift for at least a little more than a day. "Uhm, hey.." She trailed off as he sprung awake, Lyra let out a small yelp, and backed up. "Sorry, sorry, I just have some healing tea, a healing potion for you. I know you don't know me, but I swear on my life that these are actually going to help you. I read in this book that werewolves....Uhm I remember that these herbs help your wolf, uhm heal?" Her body shook with nerves as she spoke. He looked at her softly and shook his head in acceptance. His head lifted to the bottle, and Lyra poured it into his mouth along with the tea that had cooled reasonably before she came into the kitchen.
After he swallowed the rest of the potion and tea, Lyra ushered for him to lay back down and rest for the remainder of the night. He complied and within minutes the mass of fur had fallen into a deep slumber. Lyra sighed, releasing a breath she forgot she was holding. She looked over at the small analog clock that hung above the entryway to the kitchen. Midnight had come and gone five minutes ago, and Lyra cursed under her breath racing outside to her shed to begin her ritual. The candles had gone out so she lit them again carefully after she shut the door to the shed. For the second time that night Lyra had begun her favorite ritual, this time with no interruptions.
The next morning, Lyra woke to the sun shining bright through the small space in her curtains. She huffed in annoyance and rolled over on her side, pulling the covers over her head to escape the morning light. She tried going back to sleep but it was no use and she cursed the sunlight for waking her from such a magical and crazy dream. Maybe the wolf was a symbol for something? She wasn't quite sure. She reluctantly got ready for the day, and wandered from her room, wearing her favorite green dress. It flowed to her knees, and had translucent sleeves that fell at her wrists. She hardly ever wore shoes, unless in the winter, or to the local market, so she made no effort to put any on now. Her heart stopped as she reached her front room, and there lay a rather large wolf on her floor. It wasn't a dream? It was all real and she remembered the events from last night. A flood of emotions consumed her, she had read books, and hell she even followed the path of an eclectic witch, but this was confirmation that there was a completely real magical world around her. It made her wonder what else from mythology books were real, and if she was actually from a long line of true witches. Ones that held magical powers, and were able to manipulate the elements. She had always dreamed of a magical world and what it would be like to live in one. In reality, she was living in it already.