Conjuring Chaos: A Wizard's Grimoire

By James T McElwin and My Son

What if you had the power to shape reality with your will? What if you were a wizard, but you didn't know it? What if you had to face the dark forces lurking in our world's shadows and in your own soul?

These questions haunt Jake Edward Galder, a troubled young man who feels lost and alone in a society that doesn't understand h

• Language: English
• Publisher: Runic Publishing
• Release date: Jun 20, 2024
• ISBN: 9798989585427

James T McElwin

James Thadius McElwin, author and illustrator who loves the outdoors, Earth Magick, history, and witchcraft. He owns an expansive library of ancient books relating to everything from Demons and Dragons to Hoodoo, Voodoo, and Witchcraft. He has earned a few fancy diplomas and has been practicing witchcraft since the early 80s. He enjoys his continued studies in several magickal practices.

Book preview

Chapter I

The Beginning

Normal is an illusion.

What is normal for the spider, is chaos for the fly.

Morticia Addams

There was always a storm these days. A fierce tempest roared and howled outside now, rattling the windows as if some hellish demon were beating them trying to get in.

It seemed that as soon as we squelched one hurricane, another would pop up, wreaking havoc, death, and destruction. I blamed the Demons, but that wasn′t terribly relevant. Someone had to call them up. Otherwise, they usually slept. Some malevolent witch, wizard, or random fool had to invoke them. The few Demons that I kept slumbered within my subconscious‒in shackles in a vault, behind a stone wall. I intended to keep them that way. Except for a lesser Demon or two, of course. Just in case.

Today, I was waiting patiently for the ladies to arrive so that we could discuss our next move. I had gotten us a quiet corner table at the finest restaurant in the best part of the French Quarter. It was one of those exclusive places where you have to make a reservation., and one of the few that remained open during a small hurricane. I wasn′t concerned, however. These undersized storms were easy to contain. It was the coming storm that had me slightly on edge.

Would you care for some more wine, sir? The waitress was hovering, unintentionally pestering me as I waited.

Could you leave the bottle, please? That would be fine. Her eyes met mine for an instant, giving me a brief glimpse into her troubled soul.

She was past middle-aged, and I sensed she had no one and was pitifully alone. She was one of those melancholy souls whose work was their life, and that′s all she had. However, I disregarded her without diving further into her thoughts as more pressing matters needed my attention. Although, I did try to be kind. I brushed her hand as she set the bottle on the table, trying to soothe her if even briefly, intending to ease her aching loneliness. Of course, I succeeded, and she ceased her lingering.

I had just settled back with a rich glass of mellow red wine when two enchanting ladies sauntered in, with the maître de leading them to my table. The restaurant got noticeably quiet as they immediately caught everyone′s attention, even as the storm raged just outside.

They glided between the tables, looking like a pair of cheetahs on the hunt. Their sleek, sinewy legs hinted at their hidden prowess. It was vaguely concealed by their stylishly conservative dresses. They strolled gracefully to our table, glancing around at the mundane humans, sizing them up as if they were deciding whom to devour first.

Standing up formally as they reached our table, I thanked the maître de and dismissed him with a generous tip. I reached for the ladies′ hands and gave each a soft, welcoming kiss.

Hello, my gorgeous Witches. You look particularly exquisite today.

They smiled charmingly at me, their perfect white teeth accentuating their beautiful faces.

Thank you, sir. So are you. They laughed lightly together; music to my ears. We exchanged intimate kisses, then sat down, one gorgeous lady on either side of me, just the way I liked it. We settled in so that we could see each other while we talked. We had a lot to discuss today.

The ladies briefly scanned the small restaurant, noticing we were still the center of attention. Taking the hint, I took a deep breath, lowered my head slightly, and let out a deep, guttural growl, invoking a minor demon that I kept on a short leash. The vile thing wandered the room, whispering abominable terrors into the ears of the petty humans around us. The patrons jumped and shivered as one. They were startled by this sinister, dreadful thing they could feel but couldn′t see, causing them to quickly turn away from us, pretending to go about their business.

They were all jolted again as a waiter dropped a plate without warning, which shattered with a loud clatter. A sudden blast of wind rattled the windows with a new intensity, causing several nervous patrons to scream in unison. I had timed the events perfectly. My ladies chuckled, smiling at me.

Show off, accused the gorgeous lady to my right as she squeezed my hand lovingly. Her crêpe tan dress displayed the deep caramel of her satiny skin, while a slender, black headband held her shiny Afro in check, accentuating her almond-shaped, black pearl eyes and high cheekbones. She was my first Witch, a Dream Walker, and a very deft Liminal. She could mangle your subconscious, then wander through it like an empty house and make you dream things, whether you wanted to or not. I had loved her first and most certainly still did.

You being bad again, sir? frowned the captivating lady to my left as she reached for my other hand. She leaned over and kissed me gently, delightfully tickling my full, silvery goatee. No Demons. We talked about this.

She wore a short, dazzling peach dress, highlighting her shimmering, dark, ebony skin and perfectly shaped, muscular legs. A glistening, silvery gray Afro bounced free around her apple-shaped face, accentuating her blazing auburn eyes and framing her dark beauty like a classic painting at the Louvre in Paris. She was my second Witch, an Empath, and a gifted seer. She could make you do things, whether you wanted to or not. Her intuition was almost Goddess-like, while her connection to the spiritual Universe was uncanny. I had loved her second. Yet, I loved them both deeply, and absolutely still did.

They got off lightly. They were being intrusive. Satisfied with myself, I flashed a charming smile at them both while I surveyed the room. A hushed whisper from the next table caught my attention, followed by the loud clink of a fork dropping on a plate. Glancing over, I saw a middle-aged white woman glaring at us with an angry frown while her husband tried to calm her down. It was apparent that interracial relationships were still unacceptable even in our allegedly modern world. After taking a deep cleansing breath, I focused on the negative energy surrounding us, then centered myself, murmuring a short chant, making sure we were obscured and unseen.

I was the Elemental Wizard of our unusual trio, and the three of us complemented each other, completing our intimate Magick Circle. We had been together for forty years, and it had taken that long to finally realize what we were truly capable of, especially together. We had become inseparable, partly because of our Magick, but mainly because the three of us were madly in love.

I was a very lucky Wizard, if luck were to have anything to do with it‒which, of course, it didn′t.

Regarding my two ladies lovingly, I let my mind wander through time, forgetting why we were here. I thought about how my own odyssey had begun, how we had met so many years ago, and how we had become as adept and capable as we were now. It had been a long, arduous journey for all three of us. It′s a story worth telling if you wish to hear it.

My name is Jake Edward Galder, and I am a Wizard. You would not recognize me as such. I might seem as usual to you as anyone else on the street. At least, as normal as a true Wizard could appear. I don′t fit the Hollywood image of a wizard flaunting dark, flowing robes, and an earthy, conical hat while wielding a thick, magical staff. I′m an actual Wizard, dressed in stylish, modern clothes.

You would notice that I am well dressed, athletic, poised, and confident, even a bit arrogant and somewhat forbidding. If you happened to make eye contact, you would forget who or where you are for a moment as I search your soul within that instant. Depending on your own personal energy, you might either be intensely repelled by my presence or irresistibly drawn to me. Regardless, it′s sometimes difficult to remain anonymous, but I manage.

You may ask how it is that I became a Wizard. The answer I give you depends on your beliefs. If you believe in the Magick of the Universe and the existence of true Witchcraft, my story will lend some credence to my self-assigned title and maybe even provide some hitherto unknown insights for you, the reader. You might even recognize yourself in some of my experiences. For those of you who do not believe in our spiritual connection with the Universe and the reality of Witchcraft, I suggest you listen to my account. I might convince you of its truths and boundless potential.

Growing up, I never really cared for my name‒Galder. It caused me a fair amount of grief in my early years, as schoolchildren can be deviously cruel. I endured countless episodes of taunting and harassment caused simply by the sound of my name. My oversized ears only added to my grief. Because of it, I learned to dislike my classmates. Not that I liked them anyway. I was always a loner, standing out from the rest. But then, I preferred being alone, even when I was younger. During the twelfth year of my current lifetime, that aloneness became more pronounced.

I had set fire to my seventh-grade science teacher′s desk. It wasn't intentional, of course. At first, I wasn′t even sure that I had caused it. We were studying volcanoes, and Mrs. Pruitt had put in a video that displayed the power of volcanic eruptions. I was especially captivated by the whole business when suddenly I began feeling feverish and my face felt flushed and hot. Then I started tingling and sweating profusely while sitting at my desk. That didn′t go unnoticed.

Hey, look at Balder! exclaimed Everett, sitting two rows over and slightly behind me. He was a spineless bully and my least favorite person, along with his two henchmen always at his side.

My anger bubbled up like a cauldron of molten lava, and I suddenly had a severe bout of heartburn. My head spun, and my neck began feeling warm and prickly, which transmitted down my arms and into my hands. They immediately felt numb, hot, and tingly.

The next moment, the paper-mâché volcano on Mrs. Pruitt′s desk erupted with a loud whoosh, sending sparks, smoke, and fire into the air. It abruptly burst into flames.

The girls sitting up front next to me screamed and Mrs. Pruitt yelped with them. She swiftly disappeared into the hallway, snatched the fire extinguisher, and had the small fire put out quickly without much fuss.

Sitting there dumbfounded, I felt stunned and confused, as if I had triggered something terrible. Heat radiated from my palms, and sweat soaked my hair. Way to go, Baldhead, teased Everett from behind me, seeming to blame me for the fire.

Turning around, I glared at him as my stomach churned with rage. The two of us had a long, unpleasant history. He leaned back with his eyes wide, not knowing what to expect next.

You should be on fire! Clenching my fists, I stared him down.

The next instant, his thick orange hair began to smolder and then unexpectedly burst into flames. He jumped up, yelling and trying to put his burning hair out with his hands. The students sitting around him scattered like ants. Mrs. Pruitt was quick, appearing out of nowhere and dousing his head with the fire extinguisher. I couldn't help but snicker to myself.

Everett, are you okay? she asked with concern.

He seemed none the worse for the wear, except his hair was charred not entirely down to his scalp, and he looked like someone had dumped a bag of flour on his head. He coughed a few times, choking the powder out, seeming to recover.

Goodness, I don′t know how that happened! She sat the fire extinguisher down and brushed the white powder off his face. I′m sorry, I had no choice. Are you okay?

Yes ma′am, I think so, he choked out, glancing warily in my direction. Then he pointed shakily at me. I think he did it.

Mrs. Pruitt glanced at me, then back at Everett.

Don′t be ridiculous, he was nowhere near you. She lightly touched his scorched head, brushing more of the powder away. How about you go to the nurse and let her check you out. She urgently ushered him out the door and down the hallway toward the nurse′s office.

The rest of the class was still murmuring and looking around in confusion as all of us were wondering what had happened. Although, I was beginning to think that somehow I had caused it. Several of my classmates were obviously thinking the same thing, as some of them were eyeing me and whispering secretly to each other. Thankfully, Mrs. Pruitt broke everyone′s train of thought.

All right. Everyone head outside. We need to clear the classroom before the smoke gets to us.

Oddly, there wasn′t that much smoke. There was more powder from the fire extinguisher than anything else. The whole business hadn′t even triggered the fire alarms. Although, the acrid stench of Everett′s charred hair filled the room. I chuckled silently to myself, thinking about the look on his face when his hair started smoking just before it burst into flames. Yet, my stomach still rumbled.

May I go to the restroom, please?

Yes, yes, of course. She eyed me curiously. You should see the nurse too. You don′t look well.

Mrs. Pruitt gently rubbed her hand across my shoulder as we headed for the hallway, and then she led the rest of the class outside into the fresh air.

Once in the restroom, I headed for the sink to splash some cool water on my face since I still felt like I had a fever or something worse. The reflection in the mirror shocked me. No wonder Mrs. Pruitt wanted me to see the nurse. My hair was wet and plastered to my head, framing my beet-red face which was glistening with sweat. My eyes seemed a much darker blue than usual, and my stomach was still burning, as if I had eaten a bad burrito with way too much hot sauce. My gut churned and clenched, forcing me to find a toilet and violently vomit my lunch into it. Taking note, I scolded myself, thinking I really should chew my food better.

It took several minutes for me to recover and even longer to clean myself up. The whole ordeal prompted me to take my teacher′s advice. Washing my face and making myself look fairly presentable, I headed for the nurse′s office.

The nurse gave me an excuse for the rest of the day, so I walked home, which wasn′t but fifteen minutes away. I felt fine, but the nurse said I didn′t look fine. My curiosity was piqued as I wondered how I could have caused all the commotion in science class.

When I got home, Mom agreed with the nurse about my condition, so she suggested I get in the shower and clean up, which made me feel better and calmer. It also made me exhausted and incredibly sleepy, so I went to bed early, not feeling much like eating supper. The minute my head hit the pillow, my eyes slammed shut, and I slept the sleep of death.

I dreamed. This one wasn′t like an ordinary dream. It was not vague, spotty, or challenging to recall. It was vivid, powerful, and realistic.

I found myself walking through the familiar cotton fields around home with the hot dusty-sweet odor of the blooming cotton tickling my nostrils. It was tall, almost to my waist, and as I looked across the fields, it was white like snow. In the distance, a mystical forest rose up abruptly, like a dark castle. The thing was towering, mysterious, and out of place.

Wiping the sweat from my eyes, I headed toward it, hoping for a cool respite from the blazing summer sun glaring directly overhead. I had only taken a few steps, and immediately, an expansive wall of trees faced me, both enchanting and forbidding at the same time. They reached to the sky with their sweeping green canopies lost in the clouds like something out of a fairy tale. The fearsome trees murmured and whispered secrets that I couldn′t understand.

Stepping backward, I tried to see a way in, but it was completely impassible. Every tiny gap was crammed with smaller trees or brush thoroughly blocking my way through. Stepping forward, I put my hand on one of the younger trees. Not that it was small. It just seemed friendlier, standing out from the larger, great forbidding oaks around it.

The young tree heaved a deep sigh as it shivered from my touch, dropping a few leaves around me. My hand was frozen where it was, still touching the tree′s rough bark as it rippled and moved like a giant snake slithering beneath my hand. The whole tree shuddered, then shifted over just barely enough so that I could step into the cool, dark shade behind it. When I took my hand away, it shuddered again and the doorway closed with a rustle of leaves and a creaking of wooden limbs. Oddly, I wasn′t afraid, nor did I feel trapped. Instead, I felt relieved, safe, and content, as if I had come home to a familiar place. If I was dreaming, I wasn′t aware of it.

Inside, the forest was dark, deep, and mysterious. The expansive green canopy overhead blocked out most of the summer sun, which filtered lightly through, creating dazzling patterns of light and shadow. Everything was moving and shifting around me. The woods were a maze of shadows and secrets, where every sound echoed and every musty scent lingered.  It smelt like damp wood, moss, and musty earth, with the air blowing cool and crisp like a gentle touch. I could sense a calming presence all around me.

The wonderland I had stepped into was alive with creatures of all shapes and sizes, quick and elusive, some friendly and some fearsome. They scuttled and darted everywhere, vaguely hidden by the thick brush all around me. The forest seemed abysmal and ominous, but it was all magical.

Something nudged me from behind, forcing me to take a step forward. When I turned, I saw my tree, the one that had let me in. It stretched out a thin, gnarled limb, pointing, urging me on. Scanning around, I knew that I needed to commit to memory the way out, checking for landmarks and making note of the little tree that had let me pass.

Picking my way gingerly through, I headed in the direction the young maple had pointed. The filtered sunlight just barely lit the way. Otherwise, it would have been forbiddingly dark and impassable, even in broad daylight. Pushing through the dense brambles, I was accompanied by the sounds of various creatures scurrying and scampering around me. I felt their presence, but I could not see them. I was not alone.

After what seemed like hours, I came to a mammoth bamboo grove. Like the wall of trees, it too was impassable. The sturdy shoots reached almost thirty feet high and were as thick as my leg and tightly woven. It moved and whispered before me, even though there was no wind. Following my instincts, I ran my hand slowly along the large shoots, finding one that seemed to ripple at my touch. Resting my hand on the smooth bamboo, it moved, slithering as the maple had done. It slid over slightly, just barely letting me through.

I stepped into a realm of mystical wonder. It was another world glittering with adventure and discovery, where hidden paths led to ancient ruins and forgotten treasures. The ground seemed like a grassy meadow, but when I put my bare foot down, my toes sank into a spongy green moss that was cool, soft, and pillowy. Cooling shade covered it all since the large oaks stretched above and over everything. I was still not alone. Unseen things murmured all around. Whispering voices surrounded me, but I couldn′t make them out or discover where they came from.

Transfixed where I had entered, I was uncertain what to do next. After a long moment, I tentatively stepped forward, and everything around me became hushed like death. There was suddenly a resounding silence. I froze.

What being has entered our realm? The voice was masculine, threatening, and hoarse, reverberating in my chest.

Glancing nervously around, I tried not to move. The voice echoed from everywhere. I was unable to speak, barely able to breathe.

Who are you? It reverberated like