An incantation,
From a Jotnar,
Demigod.
To Lady Luck,
In all her incarnations.
I trade my fetid luck,
Black magicks,
My power overwhelming.
Exchanged for thy blessing,
For my students –
Pupils –
Facing hardships.
Bless them with coincidence,
Boon and brightness.
This spell,
Broken into many parts,
Fractals of possibility,
Woven into new realities,
Stitched into the fabric of the universe.
I write of gods,
And in doing so shackle them to limits.
Scope and scale.
Reach and rhythm.
I offer my paltry luck,
In exchange for stealing yours –
I shall take thy gift,
And further it.
Consuming your everything.
Drinking luck until the end of time.
Retch it forth,
Black ichor –
A powerful rite.
Scrawled in the venom of Jormundgandr.
Reciting words of power,
To manifest luck,
And direct it to those who need it.
More,
I shall drain the luck of my enemies,
A protective curse –
Laid upon them in defense.
A hunger,
Drinking dreams.
Harvesting fortune.
To feed the stores of my disciples,
Enrich my supporters,
Seek greater balance –
From the demands of fate.
I will achieve equilibrium.
Wait.
An Incantation From A Jotnar To Lady Luck.
