4. GREECE 12th Century #6
Blood magic was still widely considered one of the darker arts, but the Romani witch knew this type of sorcery was not inherently evil, nor was sex magic or necromancy.
They were all forms of elemental magic—power over man and nature, of which sex, death, and blood were all aspects.
It was all part of a larger mystical interconnected whole.
“Now, now, good people, please calm down,” requested the Romani witch. “The practitioner and the intent of magic should be questioned, not the Art itself. And there was no kinder soul than Anestis, who only ever sought to do good.”
The Romani witch noted that neither Anastasios nor Nicholas showed any form of judgment. He liked these two more and more. The rest of the crowd remained unsettled, but they quieted down to listen.
“So, as Anestis slowly bled, the great boar began to bleed profusely. The mystical attack caused the beast to arrest its charge, buck wildly, and emit loud, high-pitched squeals. As the blood continued to flow from its body at an alarming rate, the shock to the boar’s system soon caused it to collapse to the ground.
“You see, whatever injury happened to Anestis also happened to the one he concentrated his power upon. The spell’s strength and intensity were channelled through the dagger, linking the caster and target, but the consequences were far worse for one than the other.
“Once the boar was down, Anestis, his wounds miraculously healed, quickly ran over to Cassander, hugged him, and checked to ensure he was unhurt. Fortunately, neither of the boys was injured. Anestis explained his power as a magic passed down through his mother’s lineage.
He told Cassander the purpose of the spell was to drain the beast’s energy through the mystical bloodletting, resulting in sleep and paralysis without causing permanent harm.
“As Cassander was about to suggest they inform the guards about the boar, he abruptly stopped, pointed behind Anestis’ shoulder, and told his friend that although the self-inflicted cuts on his body were fully healed, the sedentary beast was still bleeding out.
“Quickly turning around, Anestis’ jaw dropped in shock as he witnessed the ongoing violent effects of his magic.
He raved to Cassander that this was not supposed to happen.
Running over to the boar, he began chanting ancient Egyptian words while rubbing his hands over the boar’s body, smearing the blood.
But nothing was happening. The blood continued to pour out.
“Anestis pounded upon the beast, commanding the wounds to heal up, and when that did not happen, he took out his dagger again. Still chanting, Anestis began cutting the boar, which caused large wounds to appear upon his flesh!”
“No!” Anastasios gasped, his face growing pale. He turned and whispered to Nicholas, “That will surely kill him! He is trying to break the connection by reversing the spell placed upon the great beast, but he is but a boy! Surely his body will give out long before that occurs!”
The Romani witch noticed Anastasios’ troubled expression and agitation, even though he could not hear his whispered words to Nicholas.
Not wanting to intrude on his new friend’s private thoughts by mind-walking, he took a moment to examine the older man’s aura.
He observed that it radiated sadness, worry, and even fear.
The Romani witch’s heart warmed as he continued to tell his story.
“Anestis prayed to his Egyptian gods, asking for strength and guidance. He was confused. Why was his magic not obeying him? Again and again, he spoke the spell in reverse as he cut away at the boar’s hide.
He focused on absorbing the pain and taking the bloodletting into himself for as long as he could stomach it, trying to break the connection, end his magic’s deadly effect, and save the beast’s life.
“Watching from the side in horror, Cassander knew he had to stop his friend before he lost any more blood in this foolhardy endeavour. If the boar had to die, so be it, but Anestis’ life would not be sacrificed along with it.
“Cassander considered tackling him away from the dying animal, but he worried that in doing so, the dagger might accidentally injure one of them. After all, he was no athlete.
“So, just as his grandmother taught him, he concentrated his thoughts and drew upon his will, an innate power rather than a learned one. He focused on the dagger with the intention of moving it!
“In a moment that felt like an eternity to Cassander, the talisman flew from Anestis’ hand!
Then, with all the willpower he could muster, he pulled at his friend’s body, yanking him back towards him and away from the dying beast. Now that the dagger was gone and the chanting was stopped, Anestis’ wounds began to heal.
“However, it was the end for the boar; it bled out and died.
“Though Anestis was covered in blood, Cassander held his distraught friend, who, through tears, repeated that murdering the animal was not his intent—killing was never his intent.
Anestis understood that the animal had only acted on its instincts, not wickedness, and did not deserve to die.
Not when he had the power to intervene for good!
All he ever wanted was to save, heal, and alter fates for the better, man or beast.
“Sadly, for the first time, that ancient power had failed him terribly.
“Cassander took the heartbroken Anestis to his family’s vardo to clean him up, feed him, and give him time to settle his nerves before he returned to his father’s home in the city.
“He was also eager for his new friend to meet his grandmother so they could inquire about what had happened to the spell. Cassander knew very little about Egyptian magic, whether it involved blood or not, but his grandmother possessed a wealth of knowledge about enchantment and sorcery.
“The old prophetic woman was already outside, waiting for them, with a mixture of relief and anger evident on her face when she spotted them. She had sensed that something mystic had disrupted the natural world and that her grandson was at its centre.
“Cassander’s grandmother immediately took the boys to the river and set to washing the blood and dirt off them.
After hearing what her grandson had done, the vexed old woman scolded him for using curses frivolously when he could have achieved the same results through willpower, accessing his innate, unseen forces.
In a stern voice, she explained how and why the magic had turned on him.
“As the boys’ clothes were soaked through with blood, Cassander’s grandmother sent her naked grandson back to the vardo to get dressed and to fetch his friend some of his clothes to wear back to the city.
After Cassander left, the old woman wrapped Anestis in a wool blanket to dry, and she gently brushed his thick red hair to comfort him.
“In a soft, soothing voice, she reassured the distressed boy that he had done nothing wrong and that his magic failing him had nothing to do with any punishment for hubris on his part. And though her grandson’s intentions were good, Cassander’s disregard for the consequences of using magic without thought set everything in motion that day.
“The wise old woman calmly but firmly stated that it was a valuable lesson in understanding the delicate balance between trust and responsibility when wielding mystic power, one that both boys would benefit from learning. She told Anestis that she knew he was meant to meet her grandson, for she had received a vision from the goddess Fortuna. In that vision, she saw a handsome red-haired boy of great power who was a pivotal part of her grandson’s destiny.
“Upon his return to the river with dry clothes, Cassander felt such shame and feared he had lost Anestis’ friendship.
He was sure he would never see the wonderful, red-haired boy again after that day.
But his fretting was all for naught, for Anestis’ heart was pure, and his understanding and forgiveness were immediate and unconditional. And it always would be.
“This ends my story, at the beginning of the lifelong friendship between Cassander, the Romani mystic, and Anestis, the half-Roman, half-Egyptian magus. Their bond was so powerful and true that nothing could break it—not the hatred of others, the impending destruction of Pompeii, or even death itself.”
The room swelled with spirited applause and boisterous laughter.
Burly, inebriated men, their faces flushed and eyes gleaming with merriment, enthusiastically patted the Romani witch on the back, their hearty slaps echoing like thunder amidst the revelry.
The air was thick with the scent of ale and fellowship.
For the first time in quite a while, the Romani witch felt truly welcomed and appreciated in a room full of strangers, just as he had when he first walked into Gian’s tavern centuries ago.
As his admirers began to fall away, the Romani witch returned to his table. Anastasios and Nicholas were both still seated there. One was smiling; the other was not.
“Good Anastasios, I know I was a little long-winded, definitely not as witty as Nicholas here, but surely I was not so terrible as to warrant such a grimace!”
The Romani witch laughed along with Nicholas, who said that as a beginner, he spun a mighty good yarn, but that he definitely needed to work on his brevity.
Anastasios turned toward the exit and then back to the Romani witch. “My friend, I wish for you to stay until tomorrow. Enjoy a good dinner and have a drink or two. Be merry, and remember that you are among friends and not alone. In fact, I invite you to stay here with us for as long as you wish.”
The Romani witch felt honoured to receive such a grand gesture of friendship.
However, Anastasios knew he needed to continue his journey to Athens.
He decided he could wait until he arrived there to have his boots repaired if it meant reaching Aeneas sooner rather than later. It was but a two-hour walk.