Tag: magic

Obviously, my favorite superhero is Doctor Strange. With that also comes my favorite female comic book character: Clea. She has grown from a mere damsel in distress into a complex hero in her own right. Like Doctor Who’s companions, she brings out the best in Stephen Strange.

That artists have always drawn her with beauty equal to any other Marvel heroine has nothing to do with my stanning interest in Clea. 😉

Here are some of my favorites:

From Doctor Strange, Master of the Mystic Arts #73 (1985)

From Doctor Strange, Sorcerer Supreme #2 & #12 (1988-89)

From The Death of Doctor Strange #4 & #5 (2022)

From Strange #1, #5, #8, & #9 (2022)

The twenty-first century artists have omitted the Flames of Regency. The most-recent limited series, Strange, gave her a temper and the visual effect having the Flames manifest when she is furious. It encompasses her entire head, giving her a Dormammu-like appearance.

ADDENDUM: I said earlier that Clea has become a complex character. The most recent issue featuring her gave us this last-cell teaser:

From Doctor Strange (Volume 7) #10 (2024)

Used without permission.

Nicodemus:

[gives Mrs. Brisby an amulet with a large red gemstone.]

Courage of the heart is very rare. The stone has a power when it’s there.

— “The Secret of NIMH” (1982)

Magic comes in a great range of forms of participation, which it is helpful to break down further. Three forms of participation can be distinguished: transcendence, transformation and transactions. Transcendent relations exist where the universe is influencing people but is beyond their ability to affect it. A classic example of transcendence is astrology, where astral bodies shape human lives, but people do not influence the movement of the stars or planets. The Medieval and Early Modern European maxim concerning astrology was ‘as above, so below’, a clear one-way set of influences. People can understand, navigate and respond appropriately to transcendent effects, but there is nothing they can do to change them.

Transformation is an aspect of participation: for example, alchemical practices might turn lead into gold, or unremarkable chemicals into an elixir of eternal youth. Magic often also surrounds and informs strong transformations: such is the case with metalworking, where, in many African instances, the smith prepares himself by magical means for his work…. People also transform themselves. Shamans on the Eurasian Steppe can inhabit another creature, such as a reindeer or bear, or become a spirit to enter the spirit world. The process of initiation as a shaman often involves the person being taken apart and put back together in a new form, with novel powers. For Australian Aboriginal people the landscape was transformed during the Dreamtime by the actions of ancestral spirits, such as the Rainbow Serpent, to give the land a set of powers and dangers that people need to attend to through ceremonies.

Here transformations blend into transactions. In many forms of magic people make bargains with the universe in its many forms. In China the ancestors were given feasts and offerings to ensure their good will towards their living descendants and could be contacted through divination. Divination was common in many other instances, such as in Ancient Greece, when the gods responded to questions put to them at oracles. In some cultures, especially monotheisms, a host of lesser beings, such as demons, angels or saints, received forms of supplication or more aggressive attacks to influence their behaviour in favour of humans. Across prehistoric Europe we will see how carefully placed deposits of important objects and bodies were made to the spirits of the place and the social group over many thousands of years in continuing cosmic bargaining.

Transcendence, transformation and transactions were often all found together in mutual interaction. In Medieval Europe, for example, people believed in astrology, with the influence of the planets paramount, experimented with alchemy in the hope of getting rich and gave offerings to saints to gain their favour. But when transcendent relations were predominant, people could feel alienated and fearful of the universe, lacking control over it. More mutual relations existed through transformation and transaction, in which a moral relationship was often important, motivating people to act with due respect and care.

— Magic: A History, pp. 9-10

Egg Shen:

Time for the medicine!

[pours smoking potion into cups]

Cheers!

Jack Burton:

This does what again, exactly?

Egg Shen:

Huge buzz!

[drinks smoking potion from his cup]

Oooh, good! Can see things no one else can see! Do things no one else can do!

Jack Burton:

Real things?

Egg Shen:

As real as Lo Pan!

Jack Burton:

Hey, what more can a guy ask for?

Egg Shen:

Oh, a six-demon bag!

[shakes the bag slung around his shoulder]

Jack Burton:

Terrific, a six-demon bag. Sensational. What’s in it, Egg?

Egg Shen:

Wind, fire, all that kind of thing!

— “Big Trouble in Little China” (1986)

Party buff!

Jack Burton:

That is not water.

Egg Shen:

Black Blood of the Earth.

Jack Burton:

You mean oil?

Egg Shen:

I mean Black Blood of the Earth!

— “Big Trouble in Little China” (1986)

Something a mega-dungeon should have. 😀

Sarah:

Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the Goblin City to take back the child that you have stolen.

For my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom as great.

You have no power over me.

— “Labyrinth” (1986)

Conan:

It’s the leader. He’s a wizard!

[touches his empty sheath.]

My dagger’s gone. You kill him!

Malak:

Not me! It’s bad luck to kill a wizard.

— “Conan the Destroyer” (1984)

Swords were thought to have miraculous powers and lives of their own. Soldiers defeated in battle prayed at the shrines of the war-god Hachiman, asking why their swords had lost their spirit. Many stories have come down about the spiritual powers of notable blades. One of these tells about two famous swordsmiths, named Muramasa and Masamune, who were almost equal in skill. When a sword made by Muramasa was held upright in a running stream, every dead leaf that drifted against the edge was cut neatly in two. This was a good performance, but not the best. When a Masamune sword was put to the same test, the floating leaves avoided its edge and passed unhurt on either side; Masamune’s blade therefore possessed spiritual power over the leaves and was superior to its rival.

— Early Japan, pp. 77-78

They came to the main court, which was elegantly furnished. Illustrated tapestries hung on the walls, and the floor was polished wood. Lord Bofort had excellent taste—and the ill-gotten wealth to indulge it.

“There are bowmen watching from concealed recesses,” [Jolie, the spirit of Parry’s dead wife,] said. “Crossbows.”

Parry reached into an inner pocket and took his large silver cross. He doubted that anyone would fire at him yet, but there was no sense in taking unnecessary chances. Fabiola felt the same way; she clutched her small cross tightly.

Lord Bofort awaited them at a great oaken table. He was a stout man of perhaps fifty, very well dressed with embroidered robes. “Welcome, Father Grief,” he said expansively. “To what do we owe the honor of this visit by a man of the cloth?”

“Bofort,” Parry said without preamble, “there is a warrant for your arrest for abuse of your power. I have come to take you to the magistrate.”

“Friar, you are overstepping your bounds,” Bofort said curtly. “You have no business meddling in my affairs.”

“I shall be satisfied to let the magistrate decide that,” Parry said. “I ask you to leave this castle and come with me now to the town, so that this matter may be settled.”

“Because of the reckless charge of a foolish young girl? Surely you know better than that, friar.”

“You were satisfied with her testimony when you meant to use it against your neighbor,” Parry reminded him. “Now we have ascertained that that testimony was purjured, the result of the torture and threats you made against her. She is a more credible witness against you than she was against your neighbor.”

“I think she will not be a witness at all,” Bofort said grimly. He made a gesture, and two guards stepped forward.

Fabiola straightened, and Parry recognized Jolie’s aspect [cohabitating with the girl in her body, again]. She lifted the small silver cross. “Creatures of hell, touch me not, lest you be chastened,” she said.

The guards hesitated.

“Do not be daunted by a superstition!” Bofort snapped. “Take her!”

The guards resumed their motion. Fabiola fixed her gaze on the face of the nearest and swung the cross, shoving it against his forearm.

The man screamed and fell back, holding his arm.

Parry knew that Jolie had drawn on an item of magic they had learned since her death: the mesmeric burn. The guard had not really been hurt, but he had felt the pain where the cross touched—because of the guilt on his conscience. He had known it was wrong to interfere with a witness protected by a friar. Superstition had indeed daunted him.

“So it is of this manner,” Bofort muttered. He made another gesture.

“Deflect!” Parry cried, warning Jolie.

Two crossbow shafts came down from the bowmen in the alcoves. The arrows swerved slightly and thudded into the wall on either side of the girl. Jolie had invoked the spell of deflection, causing the barbs to miss. Conjuration or levitation was difficult magic, but deflection was its simplest aspect, and they had had more than a decade to study it.

“If your guilt were in doubt,” Parry said, “that doubt has been resolved by your action. Come with me.” He strode around the table toward Bofort.

“Clear the court!” Bofort cried. “I will talk with this man alone.”

The guards and attendants hurried out, as did the bowmen. In a moment Parry and Fabiola were alone with Bofort.

“Who are you?” Bofort demanded. “I know sorcery when I see it!”

“I am sure you do,” Parry agreed. “You have practiced it for decades.”

“On behalf of the Church!”

“On behalf of Lucifer.”

“How dare you charge me with that? I gave invaluable magical aid to the [Albigensian Crusade]!”

“You systematically eliminated your competition—in the guise of that support. That was the work of Lucifer.”

“Who are you?” Bofort repeated. “I know of all competent sorcerers, and there are none among the monks!”

“I am the one that got away. You killed my father and my wife. Now I bring the power of that God you wronged, to see that justice is done.”

Bofort reflected. “There was one that escaped! A novice, a stripling, who murdered a crusader and slipped the noose. I had all but forgotten.”

“I had not forgotten,” Parry said grimly. “Now you will come with me voluntarily to the magistrate, or I shall reveal your nature to the personnel of this establishment. That will demolish your reputation as well as your estate.”

“You seek to make a deal, friar?” Bofort sneered.

“My calling requires mercy for the sinner, no matter how grievous his sins may be. Confess your sins, and accept your punishment, and I shall not add to it. Come with me now, and some part of your estate may survive.”

“I cannot come with you,” Bofort said. “You know whom I serve.”

“I serve a greater one.”

“No, you merely serve a different one.”

“Must we try our strength? My Lord supports me; does yours support you?”

Bofort thought about that a moment. It was known that Lucifer quickly lost patience with those who were clumsy in the pursuit or practice of evil. “Perhaps we can after all deal. I will give you information that is worth far more than I am, if you will depart in peace.”

“I seek no deal, merely justice. Come with me; perhaps you can make a deal with the magistrate.”

“The magistrate? He goes with the politics of the moment! You have incited the town against me; there will be no justice there.”

“It’s true, Parry,” Jolie said through Fabiola’s mouth. “The townsmen are massing now to march on this castle. It seems that quite a number of them have suffered at the hands of this man, and now they see their chance to bring him down.”

“So you are finished, sorcerer,” Parry said. “Come with me.”

“I tell you, you would be better off to make the deal,” Bofort said. “I can tell you of the greatest scourge ever to strike this fair land, now in the making. You may be intimately involved; what irony! You can save yourself and all you hold dear, if you know its nature.”

“I make no deals with your kind,” Parry said. “Now come; I will protect you from the malice of the throng.”

“Well, if I must,” Bofort said, and turned as if to walk.

Then a bolt of energy lanced at Parry.

It bathed him in fire, then died. He was untouched.

“So you are braced against physical assault,” Bofort said. “But perhaps not against this.” He made a sign.

Parry held up the cross. Something struck it, invisibly, and bounced back.

“Why you cunning—Hell and damnation! Damn, damn, damn!—rascal!” Bofort exclaimed. “You used a mirror spell to send the curse back at me! There is no cure!”

“Come with me,” Parry repeated.

“I shall not—God be cursed! Lucifer be worshipped! Damn, damn, damn!—come with you, friar! The peons would—animal fornication! Black Mass! Damn, damn, damn!—tear me apart!”

“Then I shall go without you,” Parry said. “Come, Fabiola; our business here is done.”

“For the love of—damn, damn, damn!—what do you expect me to do?” Bofort cried in desperation.

“I expect you to suffer to the precise degree of those you have afflicted with this curse in the past,” Parry said. They walked from the chamber, Lord Bofort ranting behind.

— For Love of Evil, Chapter 4

Glastonbury Tor, Somerset, Great Britain. When the land was called the Island of the Mighty, it was a holy place. The shadowy King Arthur has one of his reputed tombs nearby, and the yet more shadowy Joseph of Arimathea once made it a resting place of the Holy Grail.

There are two figures atop the tor now, clad in the garb of the ancient priests of sacred oak and wisdom’s cauldron. The preparations have been made. Now they can begin.

In the alphabet of trees they speak—with the names of the Triple Goddess they conjure—with the breath of birth, conjunction, and death, they work their spell….

— “Strange Tales” #11 (1988)

Used without permission.

Doctor Strange:

Kanna, I’m handing you the keys to my forge….

Kanna:

Is that a Faltine Furnace? Is that a Wall of Infinite Elements…?

— “Doctor Strange“, Volume 5, #8 (2019)

Used without permission.

Another wonderfully evocative name—completely self-explanatory but still mysterious.

Londo Mollari:

Now, if I may ask: does this torment end when you leave, or am I going to have to spend the rest of my life paying for one little mistake?

Elric the Techno-mage:

Oh, I’m afraid you have to spend the rest of your life paying for your mistakes. Not this one, of course; it’s trivial. I have withdrawn the spell, but there will be others.

Londo Mollari:

What are you talking about?

Elric the Techno-mage:

You are touched by darkness, Ambassador. I see it as a blemish that will grow with time.

I could warn you, of course, but you would not listen.

I could kill you, but someone would take your place.

So I do the only thing I can: I go.

[Starts to turn away then turns back.]

Oh, I believe it was an endorsement you wanted. A word or two, a picture, to send to the folks back home confirming that you have a destiny before you.

Londo Mollari:

Yes, it was just a thought, nothing more.

Elric the Techno-mage:

Well, take this for what little it will profit you:

As I look at you, Ambassador Mollari, I see a great hand reaching out of the stars. The hand is your hand. And I hear sounds—the sounds of billions of people calling your name.

Londo Mollari:

[Brightens.]

My followers?

Elric the Techno-mage:

[Scowls.]

Your victims.

[Turns and walks away.]

— “The Geometry of Shadows” – Babylon 5, Season 2 (1995)

Doctor Strange:

…I’m healing.

[He casts The Gorgerell Self-Healing Spell, from the Scroll of Melsalam.]

Help me prepare Hellstrom for a healing….

[He casts The Terranotti Healing Spell, from the Scroll of Melsalam.]

— “New Avengers” #2 (2010)

Used without permission.

I like the nuance that there are separate spells for healing yourself and healing others.

Khat:

You could be powerful, human, but instead you snivel and whine about other nasty human lives. You can’t save them. Why should you care?

Doctor Strange:

You’re right…I’m weak….

But I have to hurt. I have to know what wounds me. Because by admitting my weaknesses, I also learn my strengths….

And that is why I will triumph, little demon!

— “Doctor Strange, Master of the Mystic Arts” #77 (1986)

Used without permission.

Nightmare:

Good-bye, Doctor Strange!

[Giant-sized Nightmare crushes Strange in his grip.]

Dagger:

Cloak—he—he just exploded—became so many streamers! …But the—the streamers are still fighting Nightmare!

Nightmare:

No, Strange! You can’t do this! You can’t trick me—

Doctor Strange:

But I can, Nightmare! This way, I can envelope you, limit you…

[Nightmare shrinks back down to human size.]

…until we are more evenly matched!

Nightmare:

Strange—you—you fool!

Doctor Strange:

Oh, I know! I have defiled my body with this black trick—I have warped my self and my spirit in terrible ways—but I am indeed fool enough to fight you whatever it takes!

Nightmare:

…You would rather make yourself pay the price for using dark magic than sacrifice others! Your false nobility will be your downfall!

…For all your prowess, Strange, you are still a mortal—full of trivialities, quirks, and limits! Even though you burst your bag of skin, you reweave it—if badly…!

— “Strange Tales” #7 (1987)

Used without permission.

This scene has stayed with me across the decades—and primarily the dialogue written by Bill Mantlo. Larry Alexander’s artwork shows a magic that probably should not have been performed, but Doctor Strange’s verbal admission of how it has defiled his body and warped his spirit is crucial. Paired with that is Nightmare’s taunting retort on how Strange can reweave his bag of skin—though only badly. So evocative.

If success follows a complex set of actions and you do not know which parts of the whole performance were the vital ones, it is best to repeat all of them exactly and slavishly every time because you never know what might happen if you don’t.

— Supernature, p. 178

To astrologers and other seers of the period, 1588 [C.E.] was a year of dreadful portent. All manner of omens, from an alleged rain of blood in Sweden to a series of monstrous births in France, pointed to some earth-shaking catastrophe. Much of the foreboding harked back more than a century to the German astronomer Regiomontanus, author of the star tables used by Columbus and of a horoscope for the current year. According to Regiomontanus, there would be an eclipse of the sun in February, followed by two total eclipses of the moon. Saturn, Jupiter and Mars, harbingers of war and chaos, would linger in baleful conjunction in the moon’s house. “If land and sea do not collapse in total ruin,” Regiomontanus had concluded, “yet will the whole world suffer upheavals, empires will dwindle and from everywhere will be great lamentation.” Students of numerology, sifting through the Bible, found reasons for alarm in the Book of Revelations and in selected passages from Isaiah. Events since the birth of Christ appeared to have moved in complex but predictable cycles, and the last cycle would conclude, with apocalyptic finality, in 1588. Surely the fall of some great kingdom was at hand. As to the identity of the kingdom, there was lively speculation. Spain—Europe’s only true empire—was a likely candidate for toppling, and nervous mariners throughout her possessions began deserting their ships in the ports where the Armada was assembling. To counter the mounting apprehension, King Philip ordered sermons denouncing all forms of wizardry and soothsaying. In England the omens seemed particularly worrisome; the second lunar eclipse, in August, would fall on the cusp of Virgo, Queen Elizabeth’s birth sign. Like Philip, the English government tried to dispel the fears, issuing a pamphlet to refute the soothsayers. Catholics in France, presumably too full of Gallic elan to contemplate their own downfall, predicted Almighty punishment for the English Jezebel.

— The Armada, p. 63

Ynyr:

We seek the Black Fortress.

Emerald Seer:

Such a vision will be opposed.

— “Krull” (1983)

Divination magic! And with complications! 😀

In the ancient world, people did not stand apart from the cosmos. Instead ancient states and societies explored how people were partners with a sentient universe. The cosmos operated through regular rhythms and periodic events. Much effort went into understanding the regularities of the seasons or the movements of astral bodies, as well as the generally prescribed life course of people, plants and animals. Disrupting regular changes were events, many of which were dangerous, such as famine, flood, disease, earthquakes or volcanic eruptions….

— Magic: A History, p. 74

Baron Mordo:

Demons of Dormammu! He’s captured the eldritch forces I used against him…and used them to form a Conjurer’s Sphere!

But that’s one of the most dangerous mystic constructs imaginable! It literally absorbs the magical force in a contained area! Only the most skilled sorcerer alive…would dare…form one….

— “Doctor Strange: The Oath” #50 (1981)

Used without permission.