A spell

You stormed into your room, barely suppressing a laugh of enthusiasm. Perfect. It was perfect.

You opened your wardrobe, moved a handful of clothes and took out a large shoe box. Inside, laid a small book, barely bigger than a pocket notebook, but very old and worn out. You had found it about five months ago in a yard sale. Why anybody would want to get rid of it you couldn't imagine, but you were almost sure they had no idea of the treasures it held, else they would never have given it up.

Its pages, rendered yellow and rigid by the flow of years, were filled sometimes with incomprehensible drawings, sometimes with esoteric symbols, and sometimes with a Gaelic language. That was the part that caught your interest.

Just for fun at first, but also following a very light intuition, you worked at deciphering it. Saying it had been difficult would be an understatement. Before anything else, you even had to decipher the minuscule and condensed handwriting of the authors, then, once you had made sure you had it approximately right, you had to find out which language it was. Those two parts alone took a whole month.

After discovering it was Old Irish, the next step was learning how to translate it.

Needless to say, you would have already given up by then, if it hadn't been for one detail. On one page, you found an illustration of two young men passionately kissing. It had sparked your dying interest, and now you had wanted to know the context.

With the combination of internet ressources and old books at the biggest library of the town, you managed to translates the first two pages of the book in two months (because you still had school and homework).

But the results, did more than wake up your interest... It was a book of spell.

And not only spells, some other stuff as well (your guess was ritual, potions etc…), but you were especially interested by the spell with the illustration. You then discovered that spell was design to make anyone, fully, totally, absolutely gay. It took you less than a millisecond to decide you were gonna use it.

And two months later, there you were, your dream finally at your grasp.

Of course, yes, you didn't know if it wasn't just a fake book, or even if magic was real, but several clues led you to believe it was the real deal.

You took the paper on which you had translated phonetically the spell, and hesitated a second. Was it really a good idea . Honestly, if it was real, you didn't know if it would go right, maybe it would backfire horribly, maybe you would summon a demon or something... Maybe you had made a mistake while translating, maybe some instructions or warning at been lost…

But you took a deep breath, and shook your doubt away.

"ben ní occoras fer occoras láitir" you started to incantate. At the same time you made the signs of hand you had spent days and days practicing.

"ní troit bot grád ní troit occoras fer occoras maith" you almost stopped speaking as you felt strange sensation invade your hand, the one doing the signs… It was a tingling, a heat, sparks, tickles. It took all your willpower to keep the rhythm fluid.

"aidilcni saer te sithbot fer occoras !"

The rooms suddenly seemed to spin around and you fell on the ground. Then as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped. You got up and run to the living room. Did it work ? Did it work ?