Thread: Choking on Halo's || Vertaige & DD

Arulia fiddled with a lock of blonde hair as she preened over the spellbook, her hands curled into fists as she looked over the swirling texts inside. It was an old book, the leather binding tattered and well worn, yet it held the crinkled yellow pages nicely. The infernal text glowed a faint red, illuminating her delicate features as amber eyes scanned over the old spells, the grimoire being a lucky find she'd knicked from a burning that had been sanctioned by the church. She had been compelled to take it, her nimble fingers reaching inside the fire when the priests had turned their backs, and to her amazement there wasn't any burning upon the tome, further proving it's magickal nature. Thus it had become the best training tool she had when it came to controlling her own magic, and led to her training in the seclusion of the forests just outside the graveyards of the sanctum. Setting the thick book aside, she drew a small circle into the dirt using red brick dust. Supposedly, the spell was supposed to be a form of divination, a field the woman had dabbled little in. The future to her was something that should be left alone, as it was no fun to see what was to come, yet...There was a feeling she couldn't shake. For weeks now the pastors had been off, and thus their flocks had been told not to worry. Of course the sheep listened, but Arulia was no sheep she was a wolf in sheep's clothing hidden well among the masses after being raised by one of the decons. A glint of silver shone in the pale moonlight as deft fingers pulled a athame from her pack. Soon. The time for her to begin was fast approaching, yet still too far. Settling in criss cross upon the cold earth, she took a deep breath. Steeling herself, she takes a deep breath through her nose, her right hand lifting the blade. Here goes nothin'! Her gaze goes up to the skies, her heart pounding as she brings her hands before her, one holding the blade firmly in it's grasp. Sending a silent prayer to whatever would listen, she drags the blade across her left palm, blood instantly pooling in the wound. Exhaling, she closed her fist, feeling a stinging burn as her nails scraped the new wound. I call forth the spirit of truth, And in doing so, sacrifice some youth So that I may see a scry Of what will soon befall the sky. She turned her bleeding fist towards the earth and splayed her delicate fingers, her blood hitting the ground with a small pit pat. No sooner had she uttered those words, her eyes stung, as if bees were stinging. Soon the pain increased and a violent shudder wracked her body, her eyes now burning as her body felt as if it was buzzing. Something was wrong. This wasn't... Suddenly the world is still, and she opens her eyes to see the forest around her in hypercolor the rich greens of the trees seeming bathed in a rich golden light. Confused, a hand reaches out, and she notes it's not her hand, but instead it's a large gloved hand of a mans. Eyes widening at the realization, she panics, her heart racing as she wonders just who's body she's inside. Had she accidentally swapped bodies instead of her goal? It's beginning soon. All we have to do now is clear out. The man who's body she's occupying grunts in acknowledgement, lifting himself from the ground wjth ease before dusting himself off. No sooner had he done so, shrieks begin from behind them. The fluttering of wings can be heard, and she swears she sees winged figures descending up on the earth their bodies twisted monstrosities borne into the air. Just like that, it's done, and her eyes snap open as she lays upon the earth. She hears footsteps approaching, and in her panic, she sends her grimoire away using a quick banishing spell. Placing the athame in her hand, she conjures an illusory heart, and spreads her own blood over her chest. Satisfied at the crimson smears upon her white dress, she closes her eyes as she lays down pretending to be dead hoping to get the spring on whomever comes near her. ----- Vertaige