Spells Like Success

Magic is overrated. Horribly so. A lot of vampires seem to be able to pull rabbits from hats. Wave a wand, say a few words, make a wish-- and the world stops turning. Your loved one comes back from the dead. You become a super-vamp and save the city all by yourself. Right. If only it were so simple. Or easy. Or... painless.

Not so long ago I was told we all have a certain power within, an untapped resource waiting to be shaped and used. Some have an easier time drawing it out, others never figure out how. As for yours truly, almost from the time I was turned it seemed as if someone or something lurked just beyond my sight, waiting and listening for me to speak to it. I used to joke about having personal demons; turns out the joke was on me. There really was something there, what I can only describe as a demonic presence lying in wait for what it saw in me.

I am what is known as a Spellbinder. The definition is not precise, but it is a close fit. I cannot simply think something into being or order weapons from thin air. My strength lies in speech, the chanting of incantations. Given any words of power I can use my talent to bind dark forces and request their assistance. These forces can do almost anything, from fanning the tiniest spark of unlife into immortal health to altering the very fabric of time. So in a way it is good that the use of these powers carries a high price.

So it comes down to the issue of value: is what I want worth the price I have to pay to get it? A full 99 times out of 100 the answer is a resounding no. For one thing most of the rituals are horribly complicated. Reading and chanting take more effort than one might imagine and I always end up feeling utterly drained. One small slip of the tongue, one herb or powder added at the wrong time, and the repercussions can be dramatic. Then there is the blood, liquid life, that must so often be shed to satiate the dark forces. Blood alone can mean the difference between life and death. Yet it is just as easily gained as it is lost for a vampire. So shedding a little of my own is rarely a concern for me. However... there is still more to the equation.

You see, it is one thing to bestow magical strength upon a weapon. The spell is cast, the change is made and that is the end of it. If, instead, the spell wraps the weapon in a spell to protect the wielder... it is something entirely different. Continual energy and power are needed to maintain a protective spell and so the cost is much, much higher. Blood alone will not pay for such a spell, yet there is little any mage has that holds value to the dark forces apart from their very unlife.

I myself have only one thing, something far too precious to throw away on frivolous desires. Which makes the spell I did yesterday sort of ironic I guess. The gurantee of my sustained unlife... at the cost of a tiny piece of myself. *sigh* It felt like a selfish request too, though it was not really for my benefit. If left to my own devices I would have skipped the protection but... I gave CBK my word, that I would take as little risk as possible. So in the end it was the best I could do. All I could do really. Besides, it was successful which is all that truly matters.

Now... I must rest. The knife wound is healed already, the lost blood regenerated, but the throbbing in my chest remains. It will be gone long before the next ritual begins, I know. Yet I cannot risk stumbling over my words or failing to see that everything goes flawlessly. We have waited too long and invested too much time preparing for tomorrow night.