A Measure of Daring

I have been doing better since the end of August and the end of the thirty days of summoning [Patient Caller] for the explicit purpose of helping me deal with my shit. I have busied myself with continuing to further my recovery and taking care of things that came up when I wasn’t paying attention.

As September advanced so did my interest in other wooish shenanigans. I read a thing in a book about St. Cyprian, recognized that it was something that would be of use to me now that I have committed to remaining plugged in to the Cyprianic current even after the Black School ends, and realized that I have all the things on hand, right now, to make the thing happen.

Of course, there’s a complication.

The ritual calls for a certain length of cloth. A common scarf or shawl would be more than adequate for the task. I have many scarfs and shawls, some woven, some knitted. But as I married the ideal with the reality, my thoughts kept settling on one particular shawl in particular. But that shawl was last used as part of the ritual items for the summoning of [Patient Caller] during the month of September 2017. He claimed it as part of the inventory of ritual items that should not be used for any other spirit.

I would have to get his permission to continue.

I followed the same setup as I did for the series of last month’s summons. The small monstrance sat neatly on the Hierophant tarot card. It has only been 16 days since I last did this. It simultaneously felt like I haven’t sat for this in years and years, and like I had only sat for this only yesterday.

“Rede, rede, rede in pace.”

The mid-morning light faded until only the two candles were illuminating the room. I felt my physical eyes close and my mental eyes open to an alternative room. The spirit sat across the small table from me.

«You are continuing your prayers and meditations.» He announced his introductory words. There was no question here.

He rested his clasped hands on the table as the rest of his form settled into view. This time I saw they rested on a representation of the Hierophant tarot card. His hood was pulled forward enough to hide his hair but not his face. His smile radiated his pleasure at seeing me.

“Yea. Not always on the points, but I try to. And when I need to.”

«Good. Good.» He nodded and I realized his robes were simultaneously vividly green, crimson red, and insubstantially gray. «So. How may I be of assistance to you, today?»

“Do you remember the items used when I formally summoned you last year? The shawl and [such]?”

«I do. I also remember telling you that while I have a more personal understanding of your circumstances, that it was ill-advised to use the shawl with any other spirit. [Among other things.

“Yea… well… there’s a thing I want to do, and because you claimed the shawl, I’ll need your permission to do it.” I explained the ritual in the book, how I could perform that ritual with the tools and circumstances I have now, and that ultimately the purpose of the ritual would be to have a tool dedicated for Cyprianic work. “Pulling rank didn’t feel right, so before I go to your boss, I’m asking you first. May I pull the shawl from its dedication to you and take it to Saint Cyprian?”

The spirit said nothing and revealed nothing for a while. He remained motionless with his hands clasped on the table. Of the multitude of rings on his hands, the ring on his right pinky finger glinted in the false light. In that flash, the memory of the thirty days during which I wore the cotton shawl over my head was replayed simultaneously. I found the memory comforting.

«You may. I suggest that you make your request as formal as possible. Do not mistake exposure for familiarity.» I started to nod but he raised his hand. «And do not allow your penchant for complexity to insert itself into his answer.»

The safest rebuttal to that was silence, so silent I remained.

«Today is Saturday, is it not? Take advantage of that. Otherwise, I have no other advice to give regarding the shawl, your intent, or how to approach my master.»

“You have given me more than enough. Thank you.” I gave the license to depart and ended the ritual.


It was not my intention to type this up, but here I am back on my bullshit again some leadings are easier to ignore than others. As I chose which words to say and which to link, I read over the post that detailed the spirit’s matter-of-fact inventory of the tools I had used for the formal summoning. In that inventory, he had already stated that the shawl could be used for matters regarding his master, Saint Cyprian.

I’m still going to follow through with the formal request. Even if I had remembered or referenced that post prior to summoning the spirit, I still would rather make a formal request to Saint Cyprian on the odd chance that he might refuse it for this matter.

How that matter goes down will remain unpublished. (Unless I’m told otherwise, because why the hell not.)