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Spirit of Bellicum

I had a request for help today from someone who is a good seer but who hasn’t quite got the ability to shut down and therefore doesn’t get the opportunity for respite.  This has led to him becoming exhausted and rung out; wherever he goes he picks up immediately on what others are thinking and feeling, great if they are in a happy and cheerful state of mind but a curse if they are in turmoil or sad or in pain.  It was also leaving him open to the less than pleasant spirits that were beginning to give him bother.

So, besides giving him the obvious lecture and encouragement to practise shutting down properly and closing off the current, I hopped over the hedge to discern if there were any other problems going on here.  I returned with the knowledge that there was a certain someone taking advantage of his prevailing vulnerability and hitting him while he was down, so I decided a personal amulet was also required.

I chose to make it out of my beloved Blackthorn.  Now this was an obvious choice to me because of its ability to ward, guard, defend and punish.  It also has the powerful ability to endure.

I chose my piece of Blackthorn carefully from those that I always have to hand and took it to my working space.  I began to feel it and look closely at it to get a real impression of this particular piece and as I did this, I called for the spirit of the Bellicum to come forth.  I then started to remove the spines and smooth the knots from where they’d been taken and as I did so, I sensed the movement behind me.  I then began to smooth and shape the end of the Blackthorn into a tip and as I was doing this, a dark, misshaped and bony finger with a black nail shaped like a thorn, coiled around my shoulder and touched the amulet I was working on.

I could suddenly see a row of these dark, old and twisted sentinels, huddling together with black hair flying in the wind and torn, ragged black cloaks flapping behind them.  They were both male and female but they were so similar, that it was difficult to tell which was which.  Their sharp, glittering black eyes saw all and they moved into a ragged line of protection, their bony, misshapen fingers outstretched and pointing at something behind me.  I turned to see what it was and saw the farmer coming up behind me, with his gun cocked and ready but he wasn’t seeing me, his eyes were firmly in front and on something that was low on the ground and being obscured by the menacing sentinels.  The farmer charged onwards, trying to push past the black, ragged guard but they clustered in around him, their bony fingers and thorny nails clawing at his clothes, ripping them and snagging them, their shrill laughs and cackles rising as he became ever more entangled.  But still he tried to press on and pass through their line, intent on reaching something that was staying well behind the backs of these menacing and frightening guardians.  The thorny finger nails now clawed at the farmers face, scratching and tearing, they bunched in around him even tighter until he could not raise his arms to his face to protect it and their shrill squeals and cackles grew.  Then suddenly, the farmer was thrust out of the thicket of sentinels and he was free of their grasping.  He felt his face and the streaks of blood running down his cheeks, then he looked at his hands and the rips and tears in the flesh.  He turned away and strode off into the direction from which he’d come and disappeared from view.

I turned to look at the now silent guardians and wondered why they’d been so harsh on the farmer.  In answer, one of them stood out from the rest and in a harsh but low voice said “He’s had his sport, enough for him today.  Today we were asked for help by one who needs it and so we gave it.”  The thicket before me parted and I moved forward to see what was hiding low on the ground.  There, lay a fox and her protector told me that she was heavy with cubs.

The picture faded and I once more became aware of the old, twisted figure next to me.  I saw the wild, unkempt black hair and the ragged edges of a black cloak brushing against my arm.  I looked at the amulet in my hands and saw that it was perfectly shaped.  The Crone spoke and said that I was to put a bind rune on it for strength, protection, endurance and health.  I was then to anoint it with the sacred trinity oil of Oak, Ash & Thorn to seal the intent and purpose into it.

I did as She said and then felt Her lean forward; She again stroked the Blackthorn that was now lying on the table and I felt a cold breath of air rush past my ear and saw the amulet move very slightly, almost imperceptibly.  She had given it life before fading away like a drift of black smoke dispersing into the air.

I handed the amulet to its intended owner and watched as he hung it from his neck; I know he will be well guarded.