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February 17 - February 23, 2025
“By earth, moon, and stone, bless this hearth, bless this home.”
The devil was on the prowl. Or one of his wicked brothers was.
An offering of balance between light and dark. A gift for what had been stolen all those years ago. As above, so below.
Man had a funny way of blaming the devil for things he didn’t like. It was strange that we were called evil when humans were the ones who enjoyed watching us burn.
Magic is a living, breathing entity; it thrives on the energy you give it. Like all forces of nature, it is neither good nor bad—it simply becomes based on the user’s intent. Feed it love and it blossoms and grows. Nourish it with hate and it will deliver hate back to you tenfold. —Notes from the di Carlo grimoire
“Memories, like hearts, can be stolen.”
A good book was its own brand of magic, one I could safely indulge in without fear of getting caught by those who hunted us. I loved escaping from reality, especially during times of trouble. Stories made everything possible.
An ember of anger was slowly igniting within me, reducing the person I used to be to ash.
“Live long enough to hate me for this.”
It was a whisper, a promise, an unbreakable vow. It shattered the pain and felt like home.
My soul was safe with him.
“I crave power more than money, or blood, or lust. And there’s no greater power than choice. I’d lie for it. Steal, cheat, maim, and murder. If I could, I’d sell my soul again for it, witch.”
“Love is the most powerful magic. Above all else, remember that. It will always guide you where you need to go.” She dropped her hands and stepped back. “Now go, bambina. Go be brave. Your heart will conquer darkness. Trust in that.”
