Lynxharrow: Path of the Witch

3 - The Sight

Looking back, I suppose I was always a witch and didn't realize it. At least, ever since that first dream. I think that was also part of Zumiel's game. Maybe even the greater part of his game. To set me upon the path. My musical gifts just an extension of the brighter magic sleeping within, waiting to be awakened. And the Steppenwolf just an extension of the darker, also waiting to be awakened.

It's a common misconception that all witches are naturally psychic — blessed (or cursed) with clairvoyance, or what my mother called "The Sight". The ability to cast spells and to create magic requires a good number of things, among them concentration, will, imagination, creativity, confidence, presence, emotion, awe, and the ability to divorce oneself (temporarily) from everyday notions of what is and is not possible. But the Sight isn't one of them. The power to see things and the power to make things happen are two entirely different skill sets, both in the world mundane, and in the world magical. Both of which are one and the same, of course; the distinction is one imposed upon nature by the human mind, and as with everything else, nature doesn't give a rat's ass about our distinctions.

It's also a common misconception that "magic" needs to be spelled as "magick". The terminal "k" was added by Aleister Crowley, supposedly to distinguish real magic from sleight of hand and prestidigitation, you know, stage acts -- pulling rodents from hats and sawing scantily clad women in half, and occasionally getting attacked mid-act by a tiger. But it's always struck me as a little idiotic(k), just a way to add mystique by spelling "magic" so that it looks like a word hearkening back to ye olden days, whenever they were supposed to be. Probably around the same time as ye Ren Faire days, which could be anywhere between 500 and 1700 A.D.

Too much of the Sight can be a definite minus, when you can't tell other peoples' thoughts and emotions from your own, or easily distinguish your visions of what could be from what is, here and now. I believe that it was the cause of my mother's schizophrenia, or a large part of it.

I've always had a small touch of the Sight, and a small touch can be useful. Or at least entertaining. "A stranger will come to you with a business proposition," a voice says in a dream, and sure enough, a promoter emails me that week asking my band to play in a Friday night lineup for free beer and a couple hundred dollars. Hey, the dream voice was right. What do you know. Eat your heart out, Nostradamus.

This was Jesse's initial sales pitch to get me to go to the Janusberg Renaissance Faire with her. I'd get to meet some of her covenmates, and we'd both get tarot readings by a woman from her coven who was very psychic. It would be fun.

"As much as I enjoy the idea of enduring nasty port-a-privies and tourist-trap food at tourist-trap prices," I told her, "I think I'll pass."

"It's all good," she shrugged. "There's four open beer taverns, and you're allowed to walk around with your drink anywhere you want. But I understand. The fake accents really suck goat balls, too, don't they?"

And there it was — the alcohol card. We'd been seeing each other for a little over a month, and already she'd zeroed in on my vice of preference. It disturbed me that she figured me out so easily. But the truth was, I would have gone anyway. I was pretty sure the two of us could do anything together and have fun doing it, no matter how lame it was.

"All right, I'll go. But it's only so I can turn you and your covenmates into the town magistrate," I teased her.

"Mmmmm," she purred. "What makes you so sure he's not one of us?"

The day got off to a bad start. The Janusberg Renaissance Faire was one of the largest Ren Faires in the country, and the whole Game of Thrones phenomenon had done wonders for business. Traffic was so thick that the last three miles took almost an hour to drive (much oblige, George R. R.), about the same time it would have taken to walk. Enterprising residents along Wranglers Road had turned their lawns into mini-parking lots and refreshment stands, with makeshift wooden signs announcing "$5 all day park + $2 ice cold coke".