He sat facing the the lit candle on the floor circled with the most basic of pentagrams drawn out with the sea salt he had picked up from a local restaurant. The spring night entered his room through the open window shimmering with glazing stars.
The Waning Crescent moon resting on top of a pale cloud barely visible as the darkness swallows what’s left of it.
Adrian calmly recites the words he had spoken many moons ago, as the words slowly slip out his barely open lips and echo across the hollow room, the candle begins to burn brighter growing in size as blue streaks of light protrude from it. The blue flames drip slowly down the candle and onto the dark hardwood floor.
nois3less 