Mithraic Magazine

Sorcery Against the Stream
by Archon Azazel Ra

“The gods of order demand obedience. The sorcerer asks—what if I refuse?”

I. The Current We Refuse to Follow

There’s a current that runs beneath the surface of the world. You feel it in the way people talk about fate, about karma, about the so-called “greater good.” It pushes you to comply. To bow. To wait your turn.

The ancients called that current Ma’at—divine order, cosmic harmony, balance between the seen and unseen. Most spiritual systems aim to align with it. They call it the flow of life. The Will of the Universe. The sacred rhythm of the gods.

But for those who walk the Left-Hand Path, Ma’at is not a guide—it’s a trap.

Set, the adversary in myth, stood alone against it. He killed the king of order. He broke the wheel. And for that, they called him evil. But we see the truth: He didn’t destroy to ruin the world. He destroyed so something else—something sovereign—could rise in its place.

To follow Set is to follow yourself. It’s to say, No more waiting. No more submission. No more gods before me.

II. Curses, Bindings, and the Right to Strike

There’s a lot of fear around baneful magick. You hear it all the time—“That’s dangerous,” “You’ll invite bad karma,” or the classic: “Real power doesn’t need to harm.”

Let’s be honest.

That’s the voice of someone still asking for permission.

In Setian sorcery, we don’t harm for sport. We don’t strike for vanity. But when something blocks your path—when a person, a system, a parasite stands between you and your becoming—you remove it.

Cleanly. Effectively. Without remorse.

Hexes, bindings, crossings—these are not tantrums. They are tools. Used with intent. Delivered with clarity. They are not desperate acts of anger. They are acts of will.

​A scalpel cuts. Fire burns. And the scorpion stings.

III. The Power of Refusal

Not all magick happens in ritual space. Some of the most potent workings begin in silence—when you finally say, No. I won’t play by your rules.

That refusal is a rite in itself. Every time you reject guilt, dodge spiritual guilt-tripping, or walk away from someone who demands your light for their comfort—you are casting.

You’re casting off illusions. Casting off old chains. And with each act of defiance, you sharpen your sense of who you are without interference.

This is the part most paths fear to speak on:
That power doesn’t come from devotion. It comes from the refusal to be shaped.

IV. The Forge of the Self

This path isn’t about praying for results. It’s not about waiting on signs. And it’s damn sure not about asking some unseen entity to fix your life.

We do the work ourselves.

Setian magick is not performance. It’s transformation. Every spell is a strike of the hammer against the iron of the Self.

You don’t cast to “manifest” a better life. You cast to claim it.

– If there’s no room for you, you carve out space.
– If a door won’t open, you break it.
– If a spirit tries to dominate, you bind it or burn it.
– And if a god demands obedience, you remind them—you are not theirs to command.

This is the Black Flame in action. Not as a concept, but as a living fire that consumes everything that isn’t you.

V. Becoming the Weapon

People will call you arrogant. They’ll say you’ve gone too far. That you’re too cold, too sharp, too merciless.

Let them.

This path wasn’t meant to make you likeable. It was meant to make you undeniable.

You’re not here to make peace with the current. You’re here to rise above it.​

You don’t owe the universe balance. You owe yourself becoming.

That’s the essence of Setian sorcery:
Not worship. Not surrender.
Sovereignty.

We are not the mystics who bow. We are not the priests who kneel. We are not the seekers hoping for approval.

We are the Scorpions.
We strike.
We burn.
And we rise—
alone, unbound, and aflame.

—

Archon Azazel Ra

Founder of the Hermetic Order of Set

Author of Black Flame on the Nile, The Codex of the Shadow Star, The Magickian’s Craft, and The Hexcraft Compendium, plus other weapons disguised as books.