In those days spells, witchcraft and magic could land you in hot water. To openly practice sorcery was against the law – church law took its lead from the Bible which stated: “Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live.”
In practice, however, things rarely went this far. Most witches and sorcerers were punished with the pillory or penance. In fact, throughout the whole Tudor period, it is thought there were much less than a thousand death sentences issued for the practice of witchcraft. It was only later, after Tudor times and during James 1st’s reign, that things got tougher.
Practitioners of the magical arts abounded and were generally well thought of. They practiced mostly in secret (to avoid the pillory) providing workable solutions to people’s needs and woes.
This is exactly what Zono did. By day he was a merchant, which was really a front for his prosperous nighttime occupation as a purveyor of magic.
Zono was much sought after by people in London and the surrounding counties. He was always in demand because they believed he brought results. There was no pseudo religion with Zono. It was results magic through and through. Although he conjured devils and demons, he was always considered decent and honest – albeit scary.
Luckily Zono never came to the attention of the authorities, so never suffered the pillory or jail. This could have been due to the magical wards he put up to deter the authorities and any ill-wishers that came his way.
Being a powerful practitioner of sorcery, Zono did not die in the normal way. When his time came to pass on, he enacted a secret ritual allowing him to leave his body in spirit and enter the etheric plane as an immortal (one who retains his incarnate identity and ego-self). Over many years he had built up what I would call the “orgone flow” to gain the necessary energy to make this possible. Zono still inhabits the etheric plane – around the 17th veil of the Nyamatu zone.
What’s more, he can be called upon by conjurers to aid in their work.
Back in the mid 70s, not long after he settled in London, my voodoo mentor Earl Marlowe was clearing out a loft for a friend in Stoke Newington, North London, and he found a dusty old handwritten manuscript – basically a grimoire or magic book – dated 1823. In it was an arcane ritual to make contact with Zono. The impression Earl got was that sorcerers were summoning up Zono until the late 17th century – it was part of underground magical lore – and then it got forgotten.
“But I found it in that ole book,” he told me. “And there was a lot more in the grimoire too, stuff long forgotten and very, very powerful, and very ancient.”
Earl duly experimented with the techniques outlined in the manuscript, and eventually made contact with Zono. Over time, the mysterious immortal Zono and the voodoo man became allies and Zono would help empower Earl’s magical practice.