Opere et Silentio

Divination

Divination is the art of putting a question to a pattern and reading the answer. It is the oldest branch of the Art, and the one from which the Guild takes its name: the sorcerer was first of all a caster of lots.

What divination is for

The Guild does not teach fortune-telling. It teaches divination as a disciplined way of asking: of bringing to the surface what the inquirer half knows, of seeing a situation whole, and, on the view of many members, of learning what could not otherwise be known. Its chief use within the Art is the reading taken before any substantial working, to ask whether the thing should be done at all, and how.

The methods taught

The lots

This is the simplest method and the first taught. The Apprentice makes seven tokens of wood or clay, marks each with the sign of a planet, and keeps them in a bag. Each morning after the Lamp one token is drawn unseen. Its planet is entered in the Record as the lot of the day, and at night the day is reviewed against it. After three months the Apprentice has some ninety trials to assess, which is more evidence than most people ever gather about any method of divination. For larger questions three lots are drawn in order: the matter, the obstacle and the counsel.

The cards

The tarot is a pack of seventy-eight cards. Twenty-two are trumps, which picture the great powers and turning points of a life. Fifty-six are lesser cards in four suits answering to the four elements: wands for Fire, cups for Water, swords for Air and disks for Earth. The cards are taught at the grade of Scribe. Members learn one spread of three cards and one of ten, and are required to describe every card in their own words, from the picture alone, before they read anyone else's account of it.

The figures

Geomancy is divination by marks made in earth. Sixteen rows of points are struck rapidly, without counting, in a tray of sand or on paper. Each row, as it proves odd or even, yields a single point or a pair. Four rows make a figure, and there are sixteen possible figures, each with its name, its planet and its element. From the first four figures the rest of the chart is derived by a fixed arithmetic, ending in a single figure called the Judge. Geomancy needs nothing but a pencil. It gives blunt answers, and is valued in the Guild for that reason.

The glass

Scrying is gazing into a dark or reflecting surface, such as a bowl of water, a black mirror or a crystal, until the attention loosens and images arise. It is less a means of prediction than a training of the visual imagination, and it is the foundation of the later work of evocation. It is taught at the grade of Artisan.

The sky

Astrology is studied in the Guild chiefly for timing: the choice of a moment for a working by the day, the hour, and the phase and sign of the Moon. The reading of birth charts is not part of the course, though many members pursue it.

Rules of good practice

  1. Ask one clear question. Write it down before you touch the cards.
  2. Record the reading before the outcome is known. Enter the question, the method, what was drawn and what you took it to mean, with the date.
  3. Do not ask again. A second reading on the same question, taken because the first was unwelcome, is not divination.
  4. Go back and score it. Right, wrong, or unclear. Count the three columns once a year.
  5. Do not read for yourself when frightened. If you are desperate for a particular answer, ask another member to read for you.
  6. Decide for yourself. A reading is counsel and not command. The responsibility for what is done remains with the one who does it.

Reading for others

Members may read for friends who ask them. They may not charge for a reading in the name of the Guild. They do not predict deaths, diagnose illnesses, or advise on medical, legal or financial decisions. They do not read about a third person who has not consented. And a reader who notices that someone is returning week after week with the same fear is expected to say so, kindly, and to stop.

A good reading sends the inquirer away with more of their own judgment than they came with, not less.

Imogen Castellane, Thirty Letters from Lantern Court