Chapitre 1160: Warding Rite
Unable to sleep Rowan kicked off the bed sheets and climbed out of bed. The air is cool as she walks to the window and the curtains gently sway to the night breeze. She gazes out onto the gardens and then up at the moon. The moon is round and full in the sky, yet the official full moon would not be until tomorrow night. She stands there and closes her eyes listening to the chirps of the crickets, the hooting of the owls, and the calls of other creatures of the night.
The scent of primroses wafts through the open window along with the lighter scents of bluebells and lilies. Opening her eyes, Rowan tilted her head back to gaze up at the starry night sky. When she and Severus were still small her father would carry them in his arms. They would climb up a tall hill in the woods that lay past Cokeworth. There they would be able to see the starry night sky and marvel at the majesty of it all.
Sadness creeps into her eyes as Rowan gazes up at the stars. There were times when she still missed him. Maybe, she would always would. He had been her dad after all.
Pulling her gaze away from the sky, Rowan turns away as if unable to bear the sight. The moonlight gently descends upon her turned back as her shadow is cast up on the floor and appears so very lonely. Stepping back to her bed, she paused as a glint from her satchel caught her eye.
Moving to her satchel, Rowan reaches inside and fixes the stray quill that has nearly fallen out. The smooth, onyx-colored egg with a white spot gently tumbles out at the movement onto the carpeted floor and rolls to a halt at her bare feet. Bending down, she pensively looked at the egg before letting out a resigned sigh and picked it up.
Slipping the satchel over her shoulders, Rowan dons her bed slippers and a thin summer bed robe. Wrapping the tie of the bed robe firmly around her, she slips the egg into the deepest part of her robe pocket. Slipping her hand under her pillow, she drew her wand.
With care, Rowan laid several pillows under the blanket and waved her wand. It created the illusion of her sleeping body. She shouldn't be checked up on, but she couldn't count on it. Closing her eyes, she opens her mindscape, before teleporting to the outer portion of the Chamber of Secrets.
The air is moist as water drips from the stalactites growing down from the ceiling of the chamber. The drops echo in the vast chamber forming small and large puddles and others that appear so deep that they can swallow someone whole. Rowan opens her eyes to find herself in the long and enormous Chamber of Secrets. The chamber is dimly lit, but even then, she can see the towering stone pillars carved with winding serpents. Despite the lack of windows or surface light, there was a strangely odd, greenish gloom that filled the place.
Every footstep echoed off the shadowy wall while the craved hollow eye sockets of the stone serpents followed Rowan's every movement. She pays no mind to the carved serpents and approaches the last set of stone pillars that rise directly next to a statue as high as the chamber itself. Having met Salazar Slytherin, she had to admit that there was some similarity.
The statue of Salazar Slytherin was of an ancient and monkish wizard, with a long thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of his sweeping stone robes, where two enormous gray feet stood on the smooth chamber floor. With practiced ease, Rowan repeats the words that she had first uttered in her second year. "Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four."
A loud cracking is heard as stairs pop out of the wall leading all the way up to the mouth of the gigantic Salazar Slytherin which opened wide. A shiver creeps down Rowan's back from the cool, she was dressed rather lightly, but then again, she was dressed for the ongoing summer heat wave. With care, she climbed up the slippery, narrow stone stones that don't have any sort of railing. The path didn't seem quite as long as the first time much to her relief.
Holding her wand high, Rowan murmurs, "Lumos," as she skips the last step and steps into the tunnel. Mumbling under her breath, she reaches into her satchel and pulls out an old-fashioned flashlight. She turns off the flashlight and says, "Nox," as the light at the end of her wand vanishes.
The light in the pitch-black tunnel plunged much more dimly, appearing spooky to the mind. Ignoring the flicking shadows, she raises her wand, "Evanesco," and proceeds to methodically vanish all the bones and scales left within the tunnel. It had been a long time coming, but she was finally getting around to it.
Yes, there were several human skeletons among the bones, but Rowan quickly learned not to look at their skulls. It seemed like hours, but it wasn't more than half an hour. Sneezing loudly, she wiped her nose from the dust.
Certain that she has cleared the tunnel clean, Rowan halts in front of the entrance of the hidden laboratory within the tunnel, (the Chamber of Secrets). "Right," Rowan carefully set the flashlight on the ground and proceeded to remove her mokeskin pouch that she had placed inside her satchel should she need it.
From inside the mokeskin pouch, Rowan pulled out a small, closed string pouch holding 14 runes that had been carefully by her rune knife. With care, she sets the closed pouch down before reaching back inside for more.
Pulling out a tiny twig broom, Rowan returned the twig broom to full size. She reached into her bag again and let out a grunt at the weight of the sack as it expanded to its rightful size. With care, she spread the sand in a circular fashion, before using the broom to smooth the sand down. She kept at it until the sand was perfectly smooth with nary a dip. Using the tail of the twig broom, she draws a vast circle that is perfectly shaped in the sand. She had practiced countless times before and the practice thankfully had paid off.
Putting the broom away, Rowan reaches for a brush and carefully uses it to brush the excess sand outside of the circle to the side before vanishing it. It was a tedious task, but well worth it. Satisfied that the altar has been appropriately created, she next pulls out 14 candles. Nine of the candles are smooth and smell of beeswax, the other five candles are rougher with a yellow tint to them having made of candles made of tallow (molten animal fat) with a reed core.
The nine candles of beeswax are set outside of the sand circle in a circle. They are five hands away from the edge of the circle. They are set exactly apart from each other. Rowan had practiced the initial ritual steps sufficient times to know roughly where they should go. However, to be certain she used a ruler to carefully measure and ensure they were exactly apart from each other.
The five tallow candles are set closer to the edge of the circle only a hand away. They are set at the five points of the pentagram. With care not to trip over anything, she measured again, before moving on to the next step.
Nine herbs and five crystals are pulled next. The herbs will be laid down in between the outer circle of nine beeswax candles and that of the five tallow candles. However, the herbs just like before must be exactly set apart and not to touch any of the 14 candles.
Each of the vegetation has been selected with a special intent in mind. The first herb is Angelica with the purpose of warding off evil; Ash for magic; Basil for safeguarding and safe passageway; a twig of Hawthorn for protection; a twig of Hazel for warding; a twig of Oak for strength, endurance, and power; St. John's Wort for protection and defense; a twig of Rowan for courage and wisdom; and lastly Valerian for grounding and transforming bad into good (in other words luck).
The five crystals are the size of a large glass marble. They are to be placed at the five points of the pentagram directly in the shallow dip of the sand circle. There wouldn't be any do-overs if they were set wrongly. The only small consolation Rowa had was that the crystals would be directly aligned in front of the five tallow candles. She just needed a steady hand which was easier said than done.
With bated breath, Rowan very, very slowly set down the first crystal. A bright, dark violet crystal, Amethyst representing the Spirit, the essence of magic; Red Jasper for protection; a Moonstone for luck and drawing strength from the moon; Clear Quartz to amply power; and lastly, Smoky Quartz to suppress the darkness within and outside.
A shaky breath escapes from Rowan. So far so good. However, the warding altar was far from completed. There was still one important portion that was left. The most important part of all is the placement of runes.
Not relaxing in the least bit, Rowan reaches for the string pouch that had been carefully set down next to her satchel. With solemnity, she takes the velvet string pouch and opens it. She does not disturb the runes inside but rather solemnly contemplates their purpose. She needed to convey her intent in meditation or at least thought.
Sir Knight Prince's lessons were rather effective in teaching her how to use parseltongue for spells or in this case in a warding rite. At times, she was still uneasy speaking parseltongue to Sir Knight Prince. It took her time to realize that she had her own set of biases against parseltongue.
Sir Knight Prince was rather clear on the subject. She would need to clear her mind of any biases, or the warding would not work. At least, not with the intent she had in mind. Parseltongue was merely another tool or gift to be used. No magical wand is not evil in nature. but rather the user who forges their own path. With each choice in life, the wand may be used for good or evil. It is the user who ultimately determines if the tool is used for good or evil.
Rowan desired to create a secret sanctuary for her personal use, but also for the use of others in the future. She wished to offer sanctuary not only to her descendants or that of Severus or Rodrigo but any other Slytherin who might need it. However, unlike Salazar Slytherin she would not turn away others based on their house or their blood purity. House members from Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor were more than welcome as well provided they did not hold their own extreme biases.
L’AVIS DES CRÉATEURS 
EsliEsma
EsliEsma Happy Ides of March! "Et tu Brute!"
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
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