All are united yet seperate on the Spiritual path

The Wheel of the Year: Death

Written by: The Solitary Witch: Agate

INBOX:

To: Artemesia

From: Rosemary65

Subject: I’m ready when you are

It’s all settled on this end, so come home as soon as you can. I can’t afford to send you the extra money, but if you can get here, I have a place for you.

Come quickly, sister. My readings lately are dark and worrisome. I see danger if you don’t move immediately. I am concerned for your safety.

May Goddess walk with you,

Rosemary

I carefully folded the printed email, along with Rosemary’s address and slipped it into my hip pocket. Since I had a panic attack the last time I flew in an airplane, I would drive. I have $300 saved; I think it will be enough.

There was nothing to hold me here, no family ties of any kind. My last foster family had been kind enough, but I was never really a part of them. Even Alia, whom I’d thought would be family turned out to be anything but.

I was heading to California, to Rosemary and her coven based upon nothing but two years of e-mails and her blog. I was going on faith, it was all I had left, but Goddess had never let me down yet. I could only hope this would not be the first.

~

I took as much and as little as I could. That was no problem; a lifetime of foster home hopping left me used to a gypsy lifestyle, never owning more than could fit into a backpack and a 30-gallon trash bag. Even after two years of living in my own apartment, I still didn’t own very much. I sold my cheap furniture, kitchen stuff, and most of my library at a yard sale. All I had left after that was my clothes, a few CDs and books, some life essentials, and my Wicca paraphernalia. I bought some camping equipment like a stove and lamp; I could sleep in the car.

The only Wiccan stuff I decided to keep was what would fit into the only piece of furniture I still owned. My last foster mom gave me a hand-made chest for my eighteenth birthday. It was something an old boyfriend had given her a decade ago and as she and her husband went through their storage shed, the chest was on the list of unwanted items. It was a work of art. Stained black, it was hand carved with flowers, vines and birds. The lid was rounded and the hinges and lock were a dark brass.

At the time I hoped that the special gift would mean that even as I left the house I would have someone I could call family, but well, you know how things go. Some people don’t get attached: her or me.

Anyway, I packed up the things I use the most in ritual: my favorite candleholders, a couple altar cloths, a small bag of stones and shells, the 12 inch statue of Artemis I bought for my last birthday, a wooden wand, some essential oils, incense and burner, and a four and a half inch diameter dutch oven I used as a cauldron. That filled one side of the chest. The other I filled with about a dozen Wiccan books. Those were the hardest to choose, I owned many and found them to be useful and inspiring. Without them I may never have found my path or realized that no matter what, I really did have a mother who loved me.

After a lot of sitting and staring at a pared down pile, I chose the best of the beginner’s books, an encyclopedia of Goddesses, a book on labyrinths, herbs, crystals, some compilations of Pagan essays, and this year’s and next year’s Magical Almanacs. I also picked out a few of my magazines. I packed the chest after it was in the car; I never could have picked it up on my own. On the top of the pile, I placed my ritual robe, a bag of ritual jewelry and my first Book of Shadows. The BOS marked my progress over the past few years. There was a blank journal in my backpack up front; a new BOS to mark a new life.

I didn’t travel as light as I used to, but I fit it all into my little red hatchback. I was ready to go: the car was oiled and tuned up, filled with gas, and had a new set of tires. I would leave today, but still I had a couple more things to do. First, the landlord promised my deposit would be waiting for me in the manager’s apartment, and then I would make one last trip to The Magic Wand.

~

The Magic Wand was the perfect metaphysics store. It was big, smelled of incense and had everything the eager pagan witch might need. Wanda, the owner, carried a lot of the mass produced stuff, but she also sold local handmade items as well. My Artemis statue was created by a local artist.

It was the kind of place you could sit in the corner for hours looking through books or chatting; peace drifted on the air like incense smoke. Wanda was the type of owner everyone loved and respected; kind, generous, and knowledgeable. More than anything, Wanda was what drew people to her store and her customers were loyal. She knew everyone by name and had a knack for pointing out those things you couldn’t see for yourself. If I had listened to her in the first place, my problems with Alia would never have occurred.

Wanda would be who I missed most when I left today. I was bringing in my excess Wiccan stuff so she could sell it to someone else at a discount. I kept everything in very good condition, so she shouldn’t have any problems finding it all new owners.

For Wanda every day of October was a reason to dress up. She had lots of costumes and themed clothing. Today, she wore a Renaissance wench’s outfit, her breasts cinched to her chin, and her top brown skirt tucked in to the waistband to reveal a dark green one underneath. Her dark hair hung loose around her bare shoulders, flowers tucked into the curls. If I was into older women I would have hated leaving even more.

Practically skipping from behind the counter, Wanda slipped her arm around my waist and kissed my cheek.

“Jillian, I can’t believe the day is already here,” she said helping me put the heavy crate on the counter.

“More reasons to go now than not,” I answered. For the first time I was sad to leave.

“I know sweetie, I’m just worried about you driving all that way by yourself, but it’s the path you must take.” He voice dropped a bit. “Does Alia know?”

“Do you think I’d get out of here if she did?” I answered, bitter and annoyed. I didn’t want to think of Alia today. This was my chance to break free of my past, of all the betrayal, hers especially.

“I’m sorry, but what will you do if she finds out?”

“No one knows how I am getting there with any luck she won’t be able to follow. As far as I know she doesn’t know about this group or Rosemary. You’re the only one here who does.”

“I won’t tell. I’ve never had good feelings about that girl.”

“Told you so, right?”

“That’s not it at all. I never thought she’d turn out to be violent.”

“That makes two of us.”

“Enough of that. This is a happy day, an exciting day. Today you begin your quest.”

“Isn’t that a little over dramatic, Wanda?”

“Not at all. You are leaving one life and going in search of a new one. It’s a quest, the goal is discovering yourself.” She picked up a brightly painted envelope and handed it to me, her grin so wide it nearly split her face in two.

“What’s this?”

“Open it and find out.”

I pulled out a beautiful card with Artemis on the front, wearing her short tunic, barefoot, bow and arrow raised for a shot.

“I’ve never seen this card before.”

“A new one; it came in yesterday. As soon as I saw it I knew it was meant for you.”

I opened it and a $100 bill fell into my hand. “Wanda, I can’t—“

“Don’t say it, of course you can. Gas, food, campsites, whatever, they all cost money. This isn’t a lot, but it will help you get a little closer. Every quest requires tools, in a modern world, cash is one of those tools.”

“Thank you,” I murmured.

“One more thing,” she held out a small black velvet pouch.

“But—“

“Just take it.”

I took the pouch and held its slight weight in my hand a moment. She’d given me so much already: her friendship, one hundred dollars, she didn’t need to give me more.Blinking away tears I loosened the cord. A bead and gold wire chain slid into my palm. On the end of the chain dangled a wire wrapped white moonstone. Wanda once showed me how to use one and though I seemed to have a knack with them, I never bought any before.

“I made it for you last new moon. It will help you find your way.”

That did it. Tears slid down my cheeks and I hugged her. She held me tightly as she spoke

“I wrote my email address on that card. You keep in touch and let me know how you’re doing. Let me know when you get there. And remember, even though I know this is the right way for you, if it doesn’t work out you can always come back here. I’ll help you deal with Alia if necessary.”

I nodded as she released me, wiping my eyes. “Thanks for everything.”

I hugged her quickly one more time, then ran out to my car before I found more reasons to linger.

Maybe I was wrong about that no family part.

~

My original plan was to take practically a straight line from where I was in Virginia to Rosemary’s house in California. But then, days after leaving, I stopped at a library and checked my email. There was an email from Wanda dated yesterday.

INBOX:

To: Artemesia

From: Wanda

Subject: Warning!!

Sweetie, I hope you see this soon because last night Alia showed up in the store looking for you. I didn’t tell her anything, but she said something about already knowing you were going to California. She must know about that group of yours and your plans. She’s following you. Watch out, because she’s angry.

Goddess be with you,

Wanda

I barely took the time to sign off my account before running out of the library. I hadn’t been going fast and furious on my trip, but Alia would. She’d figure out which way I was going and either catch up or cut me off. Alia was many things and determined topped the list.

Time to change plans.

~

Being gay wasn’t something I thought a lot about while growing up. Life isn’t hard enough without giving all those charitable Christian foster parents any reason to send you away. So it wasn’t until I moved out on my own that I realized and accepted the fact. Not that I intended do anything about it, I was tired of getting attached and being tossed away.

Then I met Alia. She’s a couple years older and a witch to boot. I thought she was beautiful; blond and tall with muscular arms that softened when they wrapped around you. I felt safe and protected around her. She wanted to be with me all the time; I thought it was love.

We had sex in the circle on Beltane, our own version of the Great Rite, I guess. It was a wonderful evening, but the next morning everything was different.

Suddenly, it was as though I wasn’t just her girlfriend anymore: I was hers, like she owned me and having sex some how marked me as property. Okay, in retrospect, it wasn’t so suddenly, but at the time that’s what it felt like.

She started making rules and ordering me around, but I didn’t want my life to be controlled by anyone else anymore. I’d had enough of people interfering with my existence, so I told her no and refused to have sex with her anymore.

The first time she hit me, it was palm open, she begged my forgiveness. The second time it was with her fist and she apologized. The third time, it was with both fists and the toe of her boot in my stomach. She said I either did what I was told or she’d use more force and magic to make sure I never said no again.

The magic part I wasn’t sure about, but I knew force was definite.

This wasn’t the first time I’d been hit and I knew if I didn’t end it right away, I’d be her victim forever. I had the locks in my apartment changed and called the cops when she came pounding. I got a new cell phone number and deleted any Internet accounts she had access to. I didn’t ignore the magic threat though by warding my apartment and strengthened my own personal shield by empowering a small silver pentacle I always wore on a chain around my neck.

I had one group left on a rarely used account that she did not have the password for: I wasn’t so used to sharing that I gave her everything.

With no one else to talk to I began asking advice of these people. Rosemary, who had once been married to an abusive husband, became my best advisor and eventually my ticket away from Alia.

I decided the next time I stopped for Internet access I would warn her about Alia knowing, right now though, I had to run. I had to change my entire travel plan. My careful financial plan went down the toilet; I would run out of money before I was halfway there, which meant I’d have to find work along the way. But which way did I go? How did I stay out of Alia’s sight? I pulled my map from the glove compartment and the pendulum that Wanda gave me. I was going on faith so far, I’d let Goddess choose the direction.

~

After two weeks on the road headed north to try and throw Alia off, it was Samhain. I found a quiet place in the woods to pull off and drove my car into a small niche out of sight of the main road. I wanted privacy and seclusion; Alia may not be my only predator out there and besides it was a holiday. I always did something for the sabbats, I didn’t want to change that now.

It was chilly out, but not too bad. I grabbed some things out of the chest in the back of the car and set an altar up on a nearby fallen log. I kept it simple: altar cloth, tea light, small cauldron and Wanda’s Artemis card. I pulled my loose fitting robe over my clothes. There would be no ritual bath tonight, the wet cloths I wiped down with earlier would have to do until I reached the trucker’s rest stop tomorrow where there would be showers.

Wand in hand, I cast a small circle and kneeled in front of the altar. I stared at Artemis’ picture in the flicker of candlelight. I’d always wanted Her strength and that complete sense of self that She had; to be able to run into the wilderness without fear. Of course She does have the advantage of being a Goddess. I guess that’s the great thing about mythology, all those things that are so difficult in regular life, come quite naturally in myths.

I sang “We all come from the Goddess” a couple times, but then felt somewhat lost. Samhain was a time to honor the dead, but I didn’t think I had anyone to honor. Wait, yes, I did.

I lifted my robe and fished my driver’s license out of my back pocket. I laid it on the cloth in front of the tea light.

The end of one life, Wanda had said.

“I bid farewell to Jillian Connors, daughter of no one, grand-daughter of no one. May she find what she seeks in the next life.”

Believe it or not, I cried. At least I hardly believed it. Was I really mourning the end of that old life where love always turned out to be a double-edged Athame?

A long time ago when I first became a witch and the idea of a secret magical name was exciting, I had chosen Artemesia, after both the Goddess and an Italian artist I read about I had hoped to gain those attributes I admired so much in my Goddess, but eventually it just became a log on name. Then it seemed silly and somewhat arrogant to name myself after a divine figure, so I didn’t tell anyone. Though, I don’t feel the same about it now, I still didn’t want to use that name. It wasn’t the right one. But if I wasn’t Jillian anymore, who was I?

I didn’t figure that part out that night. There was still time for that, my journey was not going to be short after all, I would take the time, figure out exactly who I was and when I showed up at Rosemary’s, I would introduce my new self to her.

~

INBOX:

To: Artemesia

From: Lverrgrrl

Subject: none

You can’t hide from me forever, Jilly. We are bound together by ritual. I will find you.

I promise,

Alia

To be continued…

Posted on 11/3/2006 at 1:51 am by Mistress Ravenfyre