L is for Lorg, Lodestone and the Lament.

One of the principles of magic is balance.
Balance in all of nature, in all things. Good and bad, light and dark, male and female and so on.
And so it is with wytch. An equal and opposite magical being. The Woo.

They have focussed sight and harmful abilities where the wytch has second sight and healing skills. The Woo are the bogeyman, the monster under your bed, the nightmare that stalks your dreaming mind, and the thing that moves in the shadows.

A contradiction then, that the royal court should use a magical being as their number one assassins of the wytch. The soldiers call them the Unknown, they are cloaked and hooded, they work alone, and have to go into a trance to store enough energy to target a wytch. An energy that is easily and very quickly drained during the hunting. Problematic? No, they have a 100% success rate.

Their tools are the Lorg, which is a staff that measures the Woo’s height plus the length of their arm so usually about six and half – seven feet tall.
The tree it is made from grows deep in the forests in the northern quarter of the kingdom. As it grows, the Woo carves symbols into it which imbues within it mystical qualities.
Not one Lorg is the same, and they are as unique as the owner.

The Lodestone is a magical magnetic crystal that they use to draw the wytch into a trance like state to the circle they create with the Lorg and their hypnotic song.

 

“Moving swiftly through the shadows, the hooded figure walked, with concentrated focus to reach his objective.
There was nothing alive that could have sensed his motion, not a sound from the earth as he trod along the path. Not an animal or insect, whose own sense of perception could have observed his presence.
The lodestone that was strapped in a purse, made up of oak leaf and silks, vibrated at his hip. Signalling his target was close.
He had to work quickly, his store of energy would be waning, and he had to be precise. 

Stopping, looking around, he could see the beauty of the night, cloaked in magnificent darkness as he himself was, shapes only just perceivable to the layman were of a glorious colour to him, the energy signatures singing out in colours and waves of motion.
He closed his eyes and zoned in on her own unique vibration. Just ahead, not too far away, he opened his eyes and decided that here was as good a place as any.
With the lorg, he drew a circle widdershins around himself with it’s tip facing down, so he was holding the bottom end.
Beginning to chant, soft and deep, melodic.
Into a resonant sound of inaudible words.
Conjuring.

He lifted the lorg up slightly and moved on the spot, bringing it up into a spiralling motion, from the ground, above his ankles, to his knees and further, until the energy had risen up high above his head, his voice becoming louder with every turn, dizzying and intoxicating was the energy to him that he felt he would burst wide open from it.

As he reached the highest point, he abruptly stopped.
Facing directly toward the wytch herself. He slammed the tip of the lorg into the ground, the symbols upon it danced into being, lighting up in extraordinary varieties of colour: indigo, violet and magenta.

Taking the lodestone and placing it into the ferrule at the lorgs base, it danced itself, hovering slightly, twisting around, pointing to the wytch, it buzzed electric.
It would take only a moment and he would see her energy becoming brighter as she could not stop her own body from lurching up and at him. The beautiful blue of her aura, like the sea; green and blue, with a misty white cloud tinged with gold, as a halo perfectly sealing physical form.
Not for long.
Her energy and life would soon be drained and the Woo would stand strong having played his part for King, and having another soul to strengthen his lorg.”

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About Saxton-Corner

I write. I read. I am the Queen of procrastination. I drink tea. I laugh. I play Xbox. I am. View all posts by Saxton-Corner

8 responses to “L is for Lorg, Lodestone and the Lament.

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