Queen of Pentacles

The book you've been gifted does have a collection of spells you deemed to be too dangerous. These spells warn you that magic is not a giving thing and to do anything that might create lasting harm or good you must sacrifice something. Magic is a painful art it reads. There are pages of spells that require herbs, blood, and even one that demands for a golden token. These spells are tedious things and some are in languages that your mind struggles to process. Latin was easy your brain seems to know what it needs to know and even beyond that you don't need to know the meaning behind a spell to utter it, though you should have some level of intention when casting. Page 63 has a spell you're thinking might help. It's simplistic on some levels. It's not a hard incantation to utter, that's for certain. It's the ingredients you need that begin to make you sweat. It calls for consumption of the heart of an animal within 24 hours prior to the spell being cast. It also asks that you dab feline urine on your wrists. This isn't a hard task you have a cat. He's little and orange and you love him. You also love that you can purchase chicken hearts. You love it less when you find out it needs to be raw. Although you finally feel brave enough two days after reading and come home, draw the circle in chalk on your wooden floor, consume a raw heart, and anoint yourself in piss. You stink and feel like throwing up but after the last of the words are read you feel it. The spell is a healing one. Your entire body feels warm, like golden honey is running across your nerves and filling you up. This lasts for an hour. You spend the next week perfecting spells that require strange ingredients and demand more of you than you ever thought to give! It's electrifying and it's also terrifying. What now?