A look into one of my rituals with Furcalor, God of those Drowned and Master of Sea’s Depths.
I had a ritual with Furcalor in April 2022 that left me shaking and overwhelmed for hours after. It was an evocation, but it was not by any means what our normal evocations looked or felt like. He called me to it, summoned me before him, I’d say, and we had an extraordinary ritual encounter.
He demanded the floor as the ritual space, which is unusual in the space I used then. I set two pretty boxes that hold magick items down as an ‘altar’ and knelt before them once I was ready. By then, the incense had been burning a few minutes, a long stick and a cone, and I had been reciting the enn for just as long. I was hurried into ritual by him and since I wasn’t ready when he called, I needed to finish arranging my things the right way.
That ritual, at night in the darkness with only candle light, is one of the most memorable I’ve been a part of. He came so strongly. His energy strong enough to smother and he held the weight of the ocean tides in his appearance. The incense came close to me, I breathed it in and it swirled behind me, petted at my sides, laid on my head, and held my hands. The incense became him. It took on the shape of snakes and skulls. It showed me sharp teeth, jagged long black eyes, dampened hair that curled out of wetness.
There was no mistaking my eyes. Before me, was this demon-god. Furcalor. Who I call God of the Drown. He appeared with a tail that sectioned off into thinner waving tendrils of darkness and power. They moved like the snakes I’ve seen accompany him. And then, and then, he began to speak when I called out and asked why he summoned me to ritual.
I did not understand in the beginning what was happening. I was overwhelmed from the emotion and the raw power I could feel all around me. The things that shook behind me and the way the incense reached up to make his figure. But then, clearly, I understood.
He said to me something I would never forget. And nothing has been the same since I heard the words. This being, who I call a god, referred to me as a “worthy [redacted].” I was confused, until he went on. “Command me.” And I did not know what, other than binding him to protect me, I was expected to command him to do.
But it became clear this was the obvious for a reason. I had been involved in workings that weren’t the safest, as they set me up as a target, and Furcalor is a spirit capable of great damage. He is also a dear friend of mine and one I hope would never come against me or stand opposite me. I had to clear my head because those words, even for someone who had been in the evocation game for seven years, were a powerful rush.
“Stand, and command me.”
Furcalor
He said in no uncertain terms, “Stand and command me.” So I did. I stood from my kneeling pose on the floor in front of this makeshift altar holding a notebook, incense, and a few rocks and I stood. I commanded. I held my power and spoke words that came from a part of me that overflowed with emotion and raw power, it is the part of me that has known this god since before these eyes opened and this heart beat and these hands were made able to write.
As I looked to the incense, I saw it had risen to meet me. His hands on me, his eyes gazing up, his snakes loitering at my feet. That full body manifestation before me was unbelievable. And so I spoke, and with my words power rose and settled. It was Endless.
After that ritual, I felt it in my body for hours. I tried to do distracting things, tried to eat and sleep and be active, but there was nothing to do that would diminish the feeling of that ritual for days. There are few rituals, to date, I have been involved with that have been even within range of what happened that night.
Hail Furcalor! Water-soaked protector and nightmarish mermaid of the deep who deals in vengeance with furious force. Hail to the god of the drowned, to the water-snake demon and skull-collector. That we may always, in all worlds, walk before the same gates.
First, is the topic of names and titles. Furcalor is a god also known by the names Forcalor and Focalor. He is also an entity not so keen on being called the last of these names as I have found he finds the “r” important. Other colleagues of mine, in the magick sphere, also agree with this sentiment. As Furcalor as expressed a preference to me, he has also expressed it to others. I expect any magician, or at least the vast majority, able to communicate well with him will find the same conclusion. Additionally, while I describe this entity as “he,” it is simply due to the way he often presents himself and not because I believe Furcalor bound to these pronouns.
On to titles, Furcalor has complained to me, and again colleagues I have in the magick sphere, of the title “Duke,” therefore I will never place it before his name. He has said, “It’sSolomonic,” in explanation (truly, in complaint) for his distaste of the title. While it’s my view these spirits were ranked this way for a reason, I understand that other practitioners may have taken the rank as more than that which led to some tense feelings on it. He’s also expressed it is “derogatory” which goes hand-in-hand with my theory that such a title objectifies the spirit a lot. It would appear that much as Solomon claimed to have bound and sealed these spirits away, whatever truly happened was not a kindness.
On to ritual, as you may have guessed based on the last couple of paragraphs, Furcalor is not best called with Solomonic rites or the use of “angel names” as a means of protection. It’s important to remember that if a spirit wants to hurt you, that spirit is always capable of finding a way to. Like, waiting for ritual to end. Instead, I advise a respectful approach. One that does not resonate at a level of fear. Keep a protective crystal, or place an extra ward, but why try to intimidate a spirit you’re asking for help? The simple answer is, stick to you’re methods but don’t try to be a bully or make yourself a coward hiding behind sacred names of angels and gods. Call your patron if you like, but there’s no need to try to “bind” a spirit with names from another practice or path.
Furcalor & I
So you get to understand why I’m qualified to speak on this lovely being, I’ll give you some background! Then, more information on Furcalor’s appearance, energy, offices, and the like!
Furcalor has appeared before me many times. At the moment we are on very good terms and we have a mutually entwined companionship which demands respect from each of us, and also keeps us bound to do no harm to the other. It’s a more recent agreement we’ve come to as a result of some magick I was working that landed me in a touch of trouble with other practitioners. But, it is also an agreement that spans across time, one therefore that has always been and will always be in place.
The first time we met, it was he who came to me with his energy thick as can be and an air of rotting wood around him. He was gentle that first time, though he certainly scared me a bit with his appearance. I’d been afraid a little of calling to him because of that description he has in the Ars Goetia. What an intense energy and what a strong feeling of ocean depths he brings.
We have to have people like that in our world or there is no balance. We have to have strong people to clean the mess of the weak. We have to respect who we are and surrender to our wishes. Do what you think is right. For the reason you best like.
Channeled, Furcalor
Yet still, he came to me with words for a fellow friend. One who by nature and tradition a magician, a brujo or brujero. He spoke these words to me before a card reading on the situation with the person, my King of Wands. And these words have changed me, have changed how I view certain lifestyles perhaps but much more than that have changed the way I understand respecting oneself and one’s nature.
Furcalor said to me, “We have to have people like that in our world or there is no balance. We have to have strong people to clean the mess of the weak. We have to respect who we are and surrender to our wishes. Do what you think is right. For the reason you best like.” What he meant by these words, under their appearance is that people who stand by who they are truly when they’ve been stripped of everything “other,” will be honored by him because living in tandem with who one is, that is his way.
This friend was a killer. He was also a husband, a father, a walker of the magick path, a son, a grandson, a friend, a protector, and more. He was, wholly himself. He surrendered to his wants, his wishes, he surrendered to what lay deep beneath his skin and to the person he was inside it all. How I would have loved to spend more time with him. Understanding his walk of life. Furcalor protected him, as I was told, because he was himself and not “other” from it.
After that meeting, Furcalor and I came together a few times over this King of Wands. Ultimately, I was told Furcalor would not stand in the way of his path and the friend passed on. After I’d taken a sabbatical from magick for a short while–but to burn a candle on the one month date of his death–Furcalor and I again worked together though not related to this man. Instead, our relationship grew simply because we had a bond. Death magick and protective magick, I guess, helped in that. And now, we have an amazing friendship rooted in kindness and respect.
Furcalor’s Appearance & Talents
Appearance & Energy
The first time Furcalor appeared to me I’ve already spoken on. I’ll elaborate a bit and say I was terrified by his energy, although I was generally okay within a few moments. His energy is something palpable, without exception. When this spirit is nearby, it is felt. He comes with an air of ocean tides and all that lies deep beneath the surface. Wood from shipwrecks, seaweed tangled around nothing, skulls and cadavers both human and other.
When I see him, I see a creature with a fearsome face of jagged teeth and sunken dark eyes ready to attack, sometimes black and sometimes blue. His skin is pale no matter whether he sits on a rock at the ocean floor gazing at the remains of an old ship plunged down or standing before me staring me down. At the ends of his arms, his fingers hold long sharp and deadly claws. His bottom half is often obscured, I have twice seen tentacles here in place of simple shimmering darkness and once seen these tentacles morph from a “mermaid’s” tale into longer slimmer limbs.
There is another face I see as well, one beautiful and handsome. It often precedes or is preceded by the terrible long eyes, slim nose, and dark mouth of killing teeth. I have not seen this face stay for long in our encounters. At times, I have seen him with two wings on his back, an ashy gray color or perhaps that is how they look with salty-water clinging to them. Once, I have seen him appear with snakes and serpents pooling at his “feet” and slithering all around. Other times, I have not paid much attention to whether snakes were present, but I’d imagine they may have been. A last trademark of this entity’s appearance is the appearance of a skull or skulls. The drawings I have of him, that I’ve made, all contain skulls littering both in ocean waters at the surface and deep below it, and simply when I see him before him without the waters at his beck and call.
Talents
Furcalor is a spirit known for a few things. First and foremost, he’s often considered when one studies the prospects of baneful magick. Aside from this though, he is also a protector of those he finds worthy (please note this entity may not protect all people), and he’s known for being associated with water.
If you or someone you’re close to in need of protection, consider Furcalor. First though, you’ll want to make sure you’re okay with his energy as it can be very strong at times. Also, make sure you aren’t a hypocrite. Furcalor is known to not take kindly to people who pretend to be someone they are not, especially if it’s in attempt to disguise the “ugly” parts of them. I’d suggest a bond with this entity before asking his help with protection.
On to baneful workings. Furcalor is a wonderful aide to most baneful workings. He works quickly most of the time and very efficiently. There are more cases of him delivering results that occur in a body of water or are related to water, but it’s told he also works in other ways. When you make a baneful request of Furcalor, please ensure you have a reason that you believe to be true and valid. He has, not in my experience, but in that of others, been known to turn on the magician should he feel strongly against them or their request.
Summoning Ritual
Let’s talk about ritual now! You’ll probably want all your normal ritual tools–unless you take a Ceremonial Solomonic approach in which case I advise to leave behind all your angel and god names. I’d suggest you also grab something like (sea) salt water, beach sand, or a beach stone if you can. Blue and green crystals if you like them. Furcalor is associated with snakes and skulls, so if you have anything symbolic you can grab that too. He’s traditioanlly paired with Sandalwood, the color Green, Copper, and the planet Venus.
Furcalor’s enn: En jedan on ca Forcalor.
Into evocation, I suggest sitting or standing before your altar and calling his enn out in a strong voice. If you’re unable to, no worries whispers and speaking in your mind will also work. You can stare into the sigil or close your eyes as you call the enn. I suggest repeating it until you feel an energy shift although others base this off the “opening” of a sigil or hearing a spirit, or other similar tells of a spirit’s presance.
Now is a good time to ask for confirmation. Feel the dark and powerful water energy around you and don’t be scared to learn into it and let it settle around your ritual space. Let it, breathe it in. The more deeply you can feel with and communicate with this energy, Furcalor, the stronger your ritual will feel. As for the rest, take your notes and make sure you’re clear with your request.
If you’ve evoked enough times to consider yourself familiar with this entity and truly trust him, consider an invocation. Remember first though what type of being this is behind kind smiles and lonely eyes. Be willing to accept all of this being and simply call him into yourself. Invocations are often not full possessions, but take care of yourself nonetheless!
If you’re calling just to chat or as part of a pact, I’m sure you’ve got it down by now! Best wishes!
Have you ever known when someone was going to die?
Have you ever known when someone was going to die? Maybe you watched them run by in a dream and they didn’t stop when you called out. Maybe you saw visions of skeletons crawling from their graves one night. Maybe a demon whispered it to your heart?
Maybe they were sick and you were just waiting for the moments to catch up and for their body to still. Maybe they knew it too, in their hearts if not their minds and did their best to hide the truth from saddening you, even when you knew it too? So have you ever known that someone would die?
Did you do everything you could to keep it from happening? Have you spent money like it’s never-ending? Have you turned to magick in desperation?
Have you ever had it not matter?
I’ll be the first to say that my answer is yes. In the last two years, four people I care about have passed. I have known before it happened each of those four times. And truthfully, I’ve come here to find calmness. I’m not here preaching today, I’m just here to say that sometimes this burden isn’t one I bear with joy.
So today I’ll be sharing these four stories. If you’re new to magick, you’ll learn as you deepen your practice that the future is rarely unforeseeable, and for those of you who understand that magick is life and life is magick, maybe you’ll resonate with what I have to say. Maybe we can help even each other with this.
My Great-Grandmother
Death of a Bird: Death of a Loved One
Channeled
My great grandmother’s name was Mami Luci, at least to me it was. She was an indigenous Peruvian woman who sang Quechua songs with the man she spent most of her life with. In summer of 2020 she passed on.
One day I came across a dead bird, a little sparrow with it’s beak pried open still and coldness hardening it’s dead body. I looked at it and knew; it told of death to come. Not mine, but of another. Not wanting to believe this I sat and typed into google ‘dead bird meaning’ or something similar. Of course it said a close person’s life was coming to an end and of course it said some other flowery things like ‘reconnect with yourself’ and other nonsense about death and cleaning chakras.
But it didn’t matter. Some spirit had whispered to me, “Death of a bird: Death of a loved one.” A phrase that I still remember and cannot let go. I knew when I saw it what was coming. And I denied it. As I would expect most people to. This was the first sign I noticed.
The second was a dream. I won’t share many details but there was a spirit there with me and another young girl with him. I called after but she wouldn’t come back. She had to leave. I called after the spirit too, I yelled his name, calling, “Ronowe,” but he wouldn’t stop leaving. I’d only worked with him once before and when I woke up I was confused about his presence in my dream. But it seems nothing is without reason.
The next morning my mom told me my great-grandmother had passed away over night. Later I researched Ronve (Ronove/Ronwe/Ronowe). I came across a page–though there are quite a few– detailing Ronve’s intersection with the dead. He “harvests” their souls. In an instant I understood. He crosses people from this realm to the next; the dream made sense as my heart sank. I never asked to know when people would die. I never asked for warnings or signs or demons visiting my dreams with departing souls.
In truth, I was a bit spooked but also marveled at my magick. I was sad and mourned and gave thanks for the dream.
& The Love of her Life
Months later I was laying in bed in the dark, talking on the phone when I saw a graveyard setting like a vision. Skeletons seemed to creep out from their tombs, nothing too graphic but I saw it clearly. Bones and skulls and fully-formed skeletons. I was concerned someone might die. The next night, it continued.
My family was told of his illness but not of his passing. It was a week later we found out from an online obituary. The visions lasted three days. He died on one of them.
It was the second time I had seen images of death and had death directly follow. I didn’t know how–other than a bit scared–to feel. I didn’t know what would happen next time, if I would also receive a message of foreboding. I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
My King of Wands
Wherever your soul may rest, let it be at peace.
You were a lovely man whose soul I love and have loved. A kind man with a vicious attitude, someone willing To lay himself aside For those he prided himself on knowing. I wish you the courage to return and be with me if you may, To move on if you must. I wish you the love That too early left you stranded in this life, the kindness That too often went unoffered here. You were the strength I sought and failed to find in others: Merciless to those ill-fated against your will. Darkness deeply rooted in desire Hell cast upon those opposing, you walked through Blood and torment With you sugar sweet name, your warrior’s spirit.
King of Wands, Celtic Dragon Tarot
My King of Wands died over summer (2021). I was devastated and angry. The cards had told me loudest of all. I feel I should have seen it coming sooner than I did, I blame myself for not telling him something–anything–that could have kept him out of danger.
Because that’s really where a lot of us are headed. Knowing people are going to die and blaming ourselves when they do. I’m not sure I’ve ever been so shaken with anger and sadness; I should have known sooner and then maybe he would still be here talking about taking me out to eat fish at the beach. I wonder if he would talk about all the ways he made his money to get me to squirm, or be silent about it in fear of my judgement. As if I didn’t know what kind of person he was.
The cards showed me a reversed King of Wands long before the day he died, they showed me the Death card, and more. I thought nothing extreme of it. They had first showed me the pictured King of Wands when I began working with him–be wary of your ego that it may beget pain.
But later, he wouldn’t respond. Something was wrong. I pulled cards, again and again in the way we’re not supposed to where you pull one card at a time several (like 10+) times in a row trying to make the cards tell you what you want to hear. And then I did it again, and again. He was sick, hurt, and I couldn’t make it stop.
So I turned to ritual. Buer, Furcalor. Buer the Healing God who has helped cure ails in the past. And Furcalor: God of those Drowned who came forward as a protector and friend of my King of Wands long before. And I was promised healing. And so he healed. But then, after he was made all better…something else came up and he died there in the hospital where they refused him treatment. That night I was working, I pulled the death card. I pulled the Prince of Coins (pictured with a butterfly in that deck). To me, butterflies are representations of death. I pulled cards that mean gone. I pulled the King of Wands reversed.
Hours later, the message came through that they had killed him. And I went home and cried. I hated having known. How could anyone have bragged before about knowing when the time of others came to an end? How could I hand this back and say to the world, “This is no gift. Thank you, but please keep it. It only hurts and I don’t want it.” For months, the only magick I did was to light a candle on the one month mark of his passing.
His Grandfather, My Hierophant
Who shared my heritage and taught our old ways as if they were new and spoke of them with great pride.
If we can know when others will leave this life, then it stands to reason that we may know when we, ourselves, will pass on. Even that we can sway this date. It is a long-standing belief among certain magickal communities that when one has great power, until the date chosen a person’s life cannot be taken.
He called up all his friends and family, all his favorite people and loved ones within a couple days to talk like old friends… and then his breathing stopped. In Latin America, “depresión” is often both something physical and mental. When his grandson who he’d raised from childhood passed, everything changed. Perhaps it was more the heartbreak that led him to death.
They say he knew because that day they began talking and then realized that he had called them all as if he was fine, planning on living a while longer. I only wish we could have talked about the customs of our ancestors in candlelit rooms at the break of dawn, that we could have spoken of tarot as though it were more than cards and a language, that we could have made potions together and laughed at the meaning of herbs in the humid air. I wish too that I had been able to tell him I love him, have him understand.
I will miss you. I hope you come again sometime, if you may.
The week before he passed on, I had another dream of death. It was out of the usual and I woke up wondering who had died. After three deaths I recognized the dream. I got a call, and half asleep I confessed to the phone, pillow, and my mind all at once that I was scared someone’s life was coming to a close.
I dreamt of a home I had never seen, of faces I didn’t recognize. Everything was colored a shade of green as though someone had plastered leaves into old film to get the color to show. Decapitated heads floated in one scene, but this was not the point. Moments later a man laid on a bed; and down from thin air a woman appeared and said to him, “I have come, my love, to take you home.” Though I have never met the woman he created life with, I would believe if not her it was another beloved woman of his past. He took her hand and they departed in this way.
Four days (which isn’t a whole week I know) later, I read cards about the old man. Dead. Dying otherwise. I read them like I’d read his grandson’s. With desperation and fear and anger and frustration. I called Buer and we spoke. He promised me healing but said also, “Those who can be healed must be willing to heal.” He spoke too of “those who hold their pain too close to heart.” I knew overnight that he was passing on, then that he had passed. Buer stayed with me much of that night and I am grateful for it. His chilling cold presence at my back grounded me, reminded me that death is the natural order of life on Earth.
It was when I formally heard the news of his death that I understood. He did not want to live. Not that I could have, but it would have been cruel to bind him here. I’m still grieving. And I never did get to ask him why he practiced the ways of our people, or how he dealt with knowing when death came, where he learned to listen to the wind from. Are these inevitable?
Munay, machu ruku saqra.Munay, achachi.
Knowing Before Death Knocks.
If you’ve ever known and want to share, go ahead and leave a comment. As I said, this was a story post. I’ll make another on the broader idea of Death & Magick later on, hopefully it can help at least someone other than me handle the knowing, the waiting, and the ultimate deaths that come as a result of life.
