Good to see you sharp as ever, Bruja.

Amongst the magickal community there are a myriad of rules and guidelines for dealing with each other. The really important one are common sense, and somewhere in the top five rules, probable number one in fact is this;

Don’t steal our shit.

I chased the thief down the darkening alleyway, I could have tracked him anywhere on the planet with the amulet he’d stolen, in fact i could track him and the amulet separately. Most of a practitioners belonging will have one or two tracking spells and probably a snare hex. What can I say, you don’t get to be technically human in a world dominated by terrifying, almost immortal beings without being perhaps a little paranoid.
The particular item in the thief’s hot little hands, was in fact quite important to me which is why it had countless enchantments on it, to be honest i was surprised he wasn’t a smoking pile of ashes on the floor of my bedroom.

The weeds between the cracks in the paving reached up and entangled the mans feet. He went down in a heap and I piled on top of him moments later, my vine bracer sprang to life and immobilized him, the vine thickening and lengthening in seconds.
“You can shoot me, electrocute me, stab me, hex me, bite me, claw me, strangle me but for the love of every green god with and without a name do not steal my stuff!” The man struggled like a landed eel and the beginings of a curse formed on his lips. “and i swear if you do not stop moving and utter one more syllable my jewelry will crush you into plat food.” Dead still and silent, then a laugh, a familiar laugh. Oh fuck.

“Good to see you you sharp as ever Bruja.” Berhtram said around a mouthful of concrete, the spanish side of his confused accent coming out strong Berhtram is my former partner from the Silence Society, professional thieves, bounty hunters, mercenaries and assassins, for the right motivations. He is also an extremely talented shadow strider, a gift or curse depending on which country you were born in.
The man is half German and half Spanish, getting the best attributes from both heritages. His skin is flawless and pale, his hair and eyes so dark brown they almost appear black. He can speak six languages unaccented when he needs to, that I know of.

“Out of everything you steal the most guarded thing I own?” I ask, the vine loosens off him and crawls up my fingers, wrapping itself over and over up my arm until it is contained to an inch below and above my elbow and wrist.
“Had to get your attention some how Dionisio. You never call, you never write. We miss you man.” he handed the pendant back to me and dusted himself off as he stood up, the rough cut emerald fluorescing as it touched my fingers.
“I’m out, i have been for a long time, Shayde seemed to understand, promised I’d be left alone.”
“Shayde’s dying man, you know who his second is.” The accent gone, perfect, fluent english flowing from his goddamn, perfect fucking doom bearing lips.
I flinched, reached for the pentacle around my neck and stopped myself. He looked at me almost apologetically. “I thought you should know, Starlyng. Because he’s going to come down on you hard. I needed to get your attention.”
I stared at my hands, at the pendant, glowing with the light of an ancient creature, confused for a god once trapped inside. Not even this would help me if that bastard took the throne.
“Thank you B.” He just nodded and took a breath, getting ready to Step. “Come have a glass of wine or some cider, they’re just finished. Should be good, also you should say hello to Sam, she’ll smell the nether on me from tackling you.”
We trudged back to my house, and I tried to find a way to escape the man who’s life I ruined.

Good to see you sharp as ever, Bruja.

A boy called Star

Melbourne, Australia

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hello bubblers! long time no… well anything. Enjoy. I may be a little rusty. Probably the start of one of my pieces that goes on for too long. Enjoy.

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