Wards and Dispelling

This is the hard line you draw in the dirt when something knocks that shouldn’t.

Iron that burns the unseen like acid. Brass whose song shatters illusions. Herbs that poison the air against things that never had lungs. Every item on these shelves has one job: make the dark flinch first.

No plastic talismans. No lavender-and-good-vibes nonsense. Just the same tools the old hunters, hex-breakers, and night-watch priests used when the stakes were flesh and soul. The same people who lived to write the folklore we base our practice on.

Ring the bell. Hang the horseshoe. Drive the nail. Burn the herbs. Swing the fire-poker like you mean it.

Because when the shadows start moving, polite requests don’t work.

The house stays yours tonight.