Pai João pointed at Helena. "She needs to know if the sword is real."

Pai João, an old Black man with eyes like polished flint, knelt with a piece of chalk. He wasn't drawing; he was writing a prayer that predated Portuguese. This was a ponto riscado —a sacred signature of the Orixás and spirits.

"That’s it?" Helena whispered. "A few lines?"

Ponto Riscado Umbanda Today

Pai João pointed at Helena. "She needs to know if the sword is real."

Pai João, an old Black man with eyes like polished flint, knelt with a piece of chalk. He wasn't drawing; he was writing a prayer that predated Portuguese. This was a ponto riscado —a sacred signature of the Orixás and spirits.

"That’s it?" Helena whispered. "A few lines?"