The Bones Are Listening

THE BONES ARE LISTENING

Some ancestors don’t want your gratitude. They want revenge.—by Darklady, Keeper of the Vault

You lit the candle. You said the words. You offered a thimble of wine and whispered, “To those who came before.”

How quaint.

You think your ancestors are resting? You think they’re smiling down at you from some star-speckled cloud, just so proud of your little herbal sachets and moon water jars?

No, darling.

Some of them are seething.

Some of them are trapped—choking on silence, buried beneath stone and shame, screaming through generations of blood-soaked dirt because no one ever finished what they started.

You want their blessings?

They want vengeance.

Not All Ancestors Are Your Friends

The bones you call upon… might not be pleased to see you.

You think because you share blood they’re here to guide you?

Wrong.

Blood is a chain.

Blood is a debt.

And you’re the one holding the receipt.

That whisper in your dream? That shadow at the edge of your ritual circle? That candle that flickers every time you mention a certain name?

That’s not grandma. That’s the one no one talked about.

The one who was betrayed, disowned, buried without rites.The one who died screaming for justice while the rest of the family looked away.

And now you're here, dressed in your witching best, calling on "all who came before."

Well... now they’re listening.

When the Bones Answer

They don’t come in peace. They come with shaking mirrors. With sour wind. With the sudden smell of iron and regret.

They don’t bring comfort. They bring unfinished business.

And if you’re not ready to carry it? To finish it? To take it into your ritual and burn the name of your blood’s betrayer?

Then don’t knock.

Because once you stir the bones, you’re bound to them. And until their wrath is satisfied, your power will echo with their rage.

What To Do If They’ve Already Come

1. Stop sugarcoating your altar. Take down the soft candles. Put away the rose quartz. Make room for dirt, ash, rusted iron, and bone.

2. Call them by what they are.“To the broken, the damned, the shamed, the forgotten. I see you. I call you. I carry your fire.”

3. Ask what they need. But don’t expect soft answers. They may ask for names to be cursed. Graves to be marked. Stories to be spoken out loud—finally.

4. Make a pact. You don’t work for them. You work with them. And when their task is complete? Banish. Release. Cleanse. Or they’ll stay. And they’ll want more.

This isn’t ancestor veneration.

This is ancestral reckoning.

This is power soaked in pain.

This is justice with dirt under its fingernails.

So light the candle. Open the vault.

Let them speak.

But don’t you dare do it unless you’re willing to finish what they started.

The bones are listening, Darkling.

And they don’t want your gratitude.

They want to be heard.

They want to be feared.

They want to be free.