Rituals in Moonlight
Cotee slipped deeper into the forest, the pack on her back making a faint clinking as she moved. Conscious of the time, she paused to check the direction of the wind this All Hallow's Eve. It certainly
wouldn't do for any of the townsfolk to hear something and interrupt. Although, now that she thought about it…
"He may want something to eat when he awakens," she murmured as she continued wending her way through the trees.
Approaching the clearing, Cotee slowed, checking about cautiously before stepping into the moon-drenched circle. Above, the full moon neared its apex and she began quickly setting up for the ritual, all too aware that time was running out.
The conditions were right only once every 2000 years and Cotee was not going to miss her chance at immortality and power.
She settled herself at the flat boulder in the center of the clearing, digging into her pack for her altar cloth, which she spread neatly over the rock. Setting a bowl at the north and west points, she poured sand and sea water into each, respectively. She then placed a gull's feather at the eastern point and finally, a black candle of beeswax gathered during new moons at the southern point.
Digging into the bottom of her pack, Cotee carefully withdrew the final element needed for her altar. Wrapped in hoarded silk, she set the bundle delicately at the center of the four points before slowly unwrapping it. Adjusting the precious amethyst geode to gather the moonlight at just the right angle, Cotee again checked the sky, gauging the time to be nearing. The full moon needed to be directly overhead for the spell to work.
Taking a deep breath and gathering her thoughts, Cotee closed her eyes, held her hands palm down above the amethyst, and she began casting.
She'd practiced the spell for months, memorizing each Latin inflection, each scripted gesture, until she could recite by heart.
"Nascentur Cthulu."
Voice and hands rising together, Cotee began the final segment of the spell just as the moon reached its zenith.
"Pluret super me benedictionibus et face me tuis protectionibus."
She flung her hands upward dramatically then froze, waiting for a sign of his arrival.
Nothing.
Slowly her hands dropped to her sides as she listened to the silence. Casting about the clearing, she looked for a sign, any sign, that the spell had worked.
Silence. Nothing more.
Cotee's shoulders slumped and she knelt to gather up her altar trimmings. Slinging her pack carelessly over a shoulder, she stumped from the clearing, kicking at a tangled root on her way out. For a few minutes the sound of her grumbling and thrashing through the underbrush could still be heard as she made her way back from town.
After Cotee's noise faded, silence reigned over the clearing for a time. The moon slid slowly down from the horizon, slipping through naked branches to splash pale illumination across patches of the clearing. As the moon sank, the patches slithered along, brushing the rock and ebbing up over the gnarled roots. In the shifting shadows, the roots almost looked like tentacles…
And the Dark Lord opened an eye.