Witches

Let me tell you a tale.

A tale of the witches five…

There were three females and two males, born in lands far apart. All five were stunningly gorgeous, as though the powers that be had chosen them for that very reason.

Lara was the blue-eyed goddess from the icy lands far north. Her long blonde hair and slender curves spoke of her Viking ancestors. She had power over the Earth and could find anything she sought.

Genevieve of the fiery hair and porcelain skin was as far from her in temperament (and geography) as possible. To her call the flames would come.

Armando was the dark-eyed Italian that every female swooned over. His dark hair and sensual smile had gotten his into more than his fair share of trouble. His was the power over water and he had an uncanny ability to influence moods.

Justin had auburn hair and eyes that seemed amber in the right light. His was the power over air and his temperament could put anyone at ease.

Natalia was destined to be the anchor of the group. She changed hair colour as often as some people changed clothes and her eyes were a light grey.

 The first time they were called to battle was in an age not well remembered.

In this time the old demons roamed free and wreaked havoc on the innocent.

The concept of ‘the witch’ was not yet known. The closest to it would have been the local ‘wise-women’ and ‘wise-men’ – the ones who knew a little herb-lore and a little healing; mixed in with the wisdom earned by age.

The thought that speaking to the spirits of nature and believing that the celestial bodies had ‘power’ was not yet considered to be evil.

It was a time when it was safest to be home before darkness fell. A time when all of creation was respected and the cycles of the seasons were honoured.

There came a time when the true forces of evil, the demons that roamed free, held sway.

The powers that be decided it was time to intervene. Yet they could not do so directly. It was determined that they would choose their champions from among the mortals and delegate the responsibility to them.

After all, the world was the realm of the mortals…

Each of the five was born unaware of their abilities and had to face dangers of their own before they understood their strengths.

In time, they met and formed bonds both of friendship and of power.

None knew of them until the first battle was joined – until the first demon was sent screaming back into the abyss.

The five cast their circles and called on the elements…on powers as old as the Earth itself. They wielded magick to help and to save…adopting the credos now known to all witches.

And it harm none, thy will be done…

Since that time they have reappeared when needed.

Sometimes it is not even known that they are witches or that there are five.

They sometimes enter battle side-by-side but more often than not they have had to fight individual battles of their own. They have walked every land at some time…

 As time has passed, so the legends have changed:

The witch appears as villain more often than not. She is seldom ever beautiful in the tales nowadays (take Shakespeare’s three crones for instance). When she is portrayed as a beauty she is said to use this to seduce the unwary male.

A male witch is a concept unknown – he is now called ‘wizard’ – which is something else entirely.

For those who don’t automatically equate witchcraft with the devil and with evil, there is the strange concept of black and white magick.

Magick is neither good nor evil – but the ‘craft’ of the wise – wielded with intent that is dependent on the user. It is old beyond knowing and should it ever disappear entirely from the world the repercussions would not be pleasant.

My question today is thus, do you believe in this magick? And in the witches who wield it?

Legend of the Tuatha dé Danann

The mists garb the world in shadow and mystery.  Where light can be seen it is the silvery glow of the full moon.

The light does nothing to dispel illusion. Instead it creates a land of fantasy.

The mists part to reveal a female of incomparable beauty. Long golden hair cascades down her back, slanted eyes are emerald green, her body is sensually rounded and her presence cannot be denied.

She smiles and it is an arrow to the heart. She raises one hand gracefully and crooks her finger to beckon.

He is lost and follows.

He is never seen again.

Tuatha dé Dannan were ‘peoples of the Danu’ and are often referred to simply as ‘the Fae’. Across Ireland they are still respected, often revered and usually feared.

In their chosen glades they sing and dance in the moonlight and their parties are unmatched.

They are alternately guardians of the forests and punishers of the wicked. In olden times it was not unusual for them to grant aid and knowledge to those they chose. It was also not unusual for them to bewitch and abduct hapless mortals who crossed their paths.

What became of those mortals?

Some were never seen again…

Some returned after years later believing only days had passed, while some returned the next day in the belief years had passed.

Tales are told of females held in thrall to their Fae lovers and of those who were bound only to be wet-nurses to mortal babies stolen from their parents (and replaced by changelings). Human males were not exempt - for they were equally likely to strike the fancy of a female Fae. (Since mortals do not have as much stamina as the Fae this may not have been as much of a pleasure as it sounds…)

They were more than humans could hope to be yet less than we are.

They have the gift of immortality and the centuries have taught them wisdom. They understand harmony and balance in a way that we have only begun to grasp. Yet they are cold and uncaring in most tales for they have not learned compassion. They cheat and plot and scheme with a capacity for deceit that exceeds ours. Their ability for spiting an enemy who has insulted them is stunning both in its strength and the length of their memory.

They appear in poetry; in Shakespeare; in old stories and modern fantasy…

They questions remain: Are they real? Or are they myth?

Are they still there lurking in the hidden places or in a reality we cannot see or enter?

Do you think you would like to meet one?

Were the mists to part and you to face the grace and beauty that is a Tuatha dé Danann – what would you do?

Would you wish to be taken to their realm? Would you cast mortal care aside for music such as human ears have never heard; for beauty and laughter and the endless dream?

If you were offered food that smelled as though it would satisfy every hunger you had ever known – would you eat, knowing you could never return?

Or would you turn and run, flinging salt over your shoulder and gasping the words to the first prayer you think of?