Power of Witchcraft Fiction

Sigyn Speaks

This is my story.

Back then I was excited to meet the Cult Mother.  The Sibyl of my Coven warned me.  She told me how it was.  All the same.  She was the Cult Mother.  It would be like meeting a long lost relative.

We traveled to the Dragon Temple where the Grand Sabbat was being held.  From the outside, it looked like a vast modern office block.  The Comrades had a way with money. The inside, well that was another story.  The excitement of it all.  The glamour.  The vast vault of unimaginable joys.  Unfortunately, not my thing. For me the beauty of the Green Earth, please.  The joy of air, fire, water and earth.  Not this.  But, I wanted to meet the Cult Mother.  So I did my best.

Finally. There she was.  We were introduced. But the Sibyl was right. Every step she predicted came to be.  Cross the T’s.  Dot the I’s.  A disappointment I had been prepared for.  Nothing like the energetic, magical Cult Mother of the Inis Ealga.  The Sibyl was right about her too, of course.  The Cult Mother of the Inis Ealga had proved herself.  The Old Ones blessed her with magic, joy and love.  She was Banríon. Her daughters born from the Pair Dadeni.  Her husband’s gifts from the Tuatha Dé Danann, forged from pure love and strength.  But this old hag, no.

I was pleasant. Then I left to return to the World.  To my own children.  Our paths never crossed again.  But that old hag was more desperate than I imagined.

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