The Dark Path For Modern Masters: Making It On Your Own.
written by Elliot Blackwood
This is a book for the enterprising Dark Witch or Wizard who wishes to carve out their own dark path (with blood wrought steel if need be) in todays modern world, without affiliating themselves with any particular clan and or band of wizards. The Dark path is for lone wolves, for the outcasts, for those of us who seek silence and the solace therein. This book will cover a range of topics including: -Dark Magic: spells, potions, charms and animals of use. -What to wear, and when. -Who to know, and how to find them. -Where to go and why. -Essentials every Dark Wizard must have on their person. -Seduction, and how you can use it on anyone/thing. -How to kill cleanly. -How to kill messily -How to torture innocents with or without magic. -The Dark Paths code of ethics. -Plus pointers on Dark wizard social gatherings, how to make snake venom vodka, the best locations for blood orgies, and of course a little on Dark Magic sexuality.
Last Updated
05/31/21
Chapters
1
Reads
1,317
Chapter One: An Introduction
Chapter 1
Welcome.
Opening this book, for many of you, will seem like the first real step towards a Darker Path.
I can picture you. Eager eyed, sly handed, slipping into Flourish and Blotts through the back window with your enchanted satchel in search of books to pilfer and sell on at a higher price to slow first years.
You probably sauntered through the shelves, trying to find a spot, unobserved, to ram that stack of expensive "oh yes, I'll need all of these, but I'm still browsing" away from prying eyes.
And then you saw me. Like a coveted prize, sat behind that thick glass dome with a gold buckle the un-present firelight danced upon in the most intriguing way.
Your eyes lingered on my soft velvet cover, the gold embossing of runes you couldn't possibly understand but somehow knew called to you. No, taunted you.
"There are probably a thousand charms on that thing"
You would have muttered sullenly to yourself.
"If I so much as breathe on the glass, I'm finished."
So of course, with a sigh, or a groan, you scuffed your way back through that little window, and off to your petty persuits.
But as time passed, you became more and more obsessed with me. You wanted me, you needed me, you had to have me. So of course you went back. Time and time again. Your silly sales racket was nothing on my shelf price. A book like me would have to cost a few thousand Galleons, and with inflation as it is these days, you always seemed to be a few hundred too short.
Then one day while you were oh so causally browsing my section for the hundredth time, a sales assistant, maybe a nice old woman, or perhaps the janitor no one was sure actually existed, saw a dangerous look in your eye.
"I wouldn't if I were you."
They'd impart.
"A book like that, it ain't for a youngen like you. That's bad magic, for the bad kind. The Dark Path, it's called. Some sort of new age death eater deal. I don't know. All I know is that no one in their right mind would want to go near it. Or could. It's funny, it just turned up here one day. Stand and all. We've tried to get rid of it, but there's some mighty powerful magic protecting it. We can't move it, not even an inch. It just sits there, polluting the air with, well, a heaviness."
Your brow would furrow, and you'd scowl at this helpful intruder.
"Then why is it it still for sale? Why bother with the price tag?"
The stranger, of course, would just shake their head. "It isn't. We don't."
So you'd leave it be. You'd go back to your dorm, toss, turn, twist and writhe among those fresh cotton sheets every night.
Hey, so what? You've done a few questionable things. But who hasn't? It's all part of finding yourself right? Everyone makes mistakes... But remorse. Remorse is something you've always lacked. Even as a child, you'd leave others in tears, their sadness, worthlessness, only fueling your desire to succeed, to crush all others with your might.
And then the idea comes. You'll... Borrow me. You have to. Even if you only get to hold me, or read the first page, you'll realize it's not for you, that you can't possibly be a dark wizard. You've bought tickets to to the Diagon Alley Dudes concerts every year since you were seven. Could you be any more of a basic witch?
These thoughts leave you contented.
On a moonless night you enter the store through your usual. The darkness is thick, almost woolen, as it smothers you.
You know the way. You know where I am, where I've always been, waiting.
You memorized a few powerful spells sold to you by an unscrupulous wizard on the corner of Nocturn Alley.
But first, you just have to try lifting the dome.
Your fingers shake, closing over that warm glass bulb, hefting the shining sheer... Liquid?
It melts away beneath your fingertips, and like a butterfly from a butterfly bell, I flutter into your arms, and fill you with the knowledge, something you've always known but were too afraid to admit, which is only confirmed by reading this introduction that somehow knows so much about you.
Of course it's an enchantment, but that's not important.
It's the truth, isn't it?
