Copyright 2005 GoldenMage

The overall bleakness of the room contrasted severely with the extravagant clothing worn by the people within it. This meeting place was only known to a small number of individuals. In the hustle and bustle of the modern world secret societies were almost impossible to keep secret yet the sisterhood of Esmaeli had remained hidden from the rest of the world since the days when Myrddin Emrys walked the earth.

Myrddin, or Merlin as he has become known in the annals of history, had been bothered and harangued by the society of witches on an almost regular basis. They tended to be domineering and very overbearing in their dealings with men. This behavior would not have been tolerated in a male dominant society if it weren't for the workings of their spells and curses.

Merlin wanted to bring a time of peace and well being to the common man. The society sought to cause chaos in the male dominant world they found themselves in. They hoped to someday place women in the highest seats of power and to eventually rule the world.

Now, some fifteen hundred years since Merlin last walked the earth, men still held the reigns of power by and large. The few remaining Esmaeli sisters were witches of power - though their knowledge had diminished somewhat over the centuries.

They stood in a tight circle in the candlelit attic room and whispered to each other in urgent sentences.

"You found the scroll then?" the eldest woman in the gathering asked.

"Yes! I was there when it was unearthed at a dig at Drumelzier in Tweeddale Scotland. I saw the sealed jar just as it was unearthed. A rather timely cave- in occurred focusing the workers attention elsewhere and while the workers were occupied trying to unearth their fellows I made off with the jar," an incredibly beautiful redheaded woman told the others.

"No doubt you 'aided' this rather timely cave-in," a blond haired green eyed woman tittered.

The eldest ignored the jovial remark and continued, "And its contents have been authenticated?"

"Yes! It is written in the proper script and dialect. It contains the spells we seek!" a tall and elegant woman replied.

For centuries the society had been trying to unearth Merlin's fabled book of spells. Over time they had discovered that the famed wizard had not kept a single book of spells, but rather had secreted scrolls containing segments of his knowledge all across Britain. Members of their society had stolen ancient artifacts attributed to Merlin on many occasions. Sometimes these artifacts were legitimate and sometimes they were not.

Ironically enough, while Merlin had recorded a great deal of his knowledge, the power hungry witches who had formed the sisterhood had not. Over time a great deal of their knowledge and understanding was lost and now they found themselves dependant on the writings of a man to shore up their knowledge of magic.

The eldest looked around the circle. In addition to her there were twelve other powerful witches in the circle. This collection of spells called for thirteen, she read through the translation she held in her hands and felt a thrill run through her entire being. The collection was entitled 'a set of joined spells for creating a weapon of overwhelming power'. What she and the sisterhood would be able to do with such a weapon!

The eldest thought back to the legends of Excalibur and other weapons of power that had been created: Thor's hammer, Trident's trident and a host of others. Each in their time had created a dominant ruler noted by history and those were just men! What would a sisterhood of powerful witches be able to achieve? As the grandiose thoughts filled her head she read through the rest of the translation.

There was one spell for each night spread over thirteen nights. The spells had to be timed carefully with the seventh being said on the night when the moon was at its fullest. Each of the sisters would have to give up some blood to power the spells. The eldest was concerned that they would be able to determine how much blood since each of the spells called for 'one sester' of blood. How much was a sester? What if they were off on their conversion? Well - some risks would have to be taken.

Although some of the ingredients the spells called for were a little unusual, all could be found without too much trouble. The Eldest turned to sister Chantelle regarding the problem of converting from a 'sester' to one of today's liquid measures.

"Ah yes. When I translated the spells I was able to determine that One sester is approximately one and a half pints of blood."

"I guess it's a good thing that only one of us has to be bled each night. I imagine I'll fell pretty week on my night.

"What about the language of the spell? Must we memorize it in the ancient dialect?"

"I believe that would be best," Chantelle replied.

After waiting more than fifteen hundred years the sisterhood's inner circle wasn't about to rush into things and in fact were very careful in their preparations. Six weeks had passed since their meeting in the darkened attic. Now, with all preparations made and all materials at hand, they were ready. Tonight would be the night of the first spell and as required the seventh spell would fall on the night the full moon was at its peak.

The spells and accompanying rituals had to be performed outside under the light of the moon. Hoping for complete seclusion the women had all made arrangements to be away from their homes for several weeks and had selected a national park in northern Arizona as their base of operations for the duration of the spell nights.

They had selected a large rock to use as the 'altar' for their spells. As Juliana lay naked on the flat surface of the rock the night of the first spell she found herself getting colder and colder. As more blood was drained from her body Juliana felt weaker and weaker and worried that she would find it difficult to keep the words of the spell in her mind.