It was summer vacation before 5th grade.

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I was walking downtown with my friend, eating ice cream, just being a kid.

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We were darting in and out of stores to escape the terrible heat, when suddenly we noticed a new shop sign and decided to check it out. As we walked closer, I noticed that the door was particularly beautiful – it seemed ancient, made of weathered wood with iron hinges and a pointed top, like a door you’d see in a medieval castle.

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I slowly pushed it open…..

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A waft of the most amazing incense came flooding out. I immediately knew that I was walking into a sacred space.

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As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Everywhere I looked was intention and magic. Celtic tapestries hung from the beams of the ceiling, alchemical treasures were tucked into every nook, and soft enchanting music pulled us ever deeper into the labyrinth of esoteric mystery.

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Eventually, a woman appeared from behind a curtain where she had been giving an intuitive reading. She had long brown hair that ended at her low back and was wearing a stunning black dress with wide flowing sleeves. It quickly dawned upon us that we had walked right into a real witch’s shop!

She was very welcoming and offered to show us around.

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We discovered that she made journals by hand. Some were small, simple and blank, while some were enormous and bursting with detail.

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In the very center of the shop, on a tall pedestal, rested her largest, most expensive journal. It had a black cover with Gothic iron embellishments and every page was aged by hand. I was hypnotized. As I flipped through it, I discovered handwritten spells, pressed leaves, and bold stamps of black cats, cauldrons, broomsticks, and fairies.

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I never wanted to leave this place.

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Every cell in my body told me that this was home.

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We came back often over the next few years and slowly befriended the owner. Unfortunately, the day came when she had to move her shop back to Salem, where business had understandably been much better.

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I don’t know if I’ll ever see her again, and I don’t know if she’ll ever realize how much her shop influenced the course of my life. Walking into her space was like a remembering and a discovery at once. It ignited my passion for old books, spiritual philosophy, tarot, intuition and incense in a single breath.

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It took about 15 years for me to realize the true significance of this experience, but that’s a story for another time.

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It all led me to this moment, and it all led me to Raven Relics.