How Witchy Came To Be...
Deep in the heart of the Transylvania Forest is secret woods, a forest of ancient, gnarled blue Witch Trees. They thrive in darkness, their sturdy, twisted branches reaching for their beloved moonlight on those precious nights when its ethereal radiance glows above them.
They have stood in silence since the Dawn of Time, their deep roots drawing up all the Knowledge of Mother Earth and her treasured Wisdom for herbs and healing, their lush, thick leaves reaching into the Sky, gathering the Powerful Secrets of the Universe. All Magick and Wisdom are stored in the trees.
These are the Olde Ways and they have endured countless millennia.
When it is Time, on a Blue Moon all the witches gather round one of these sacred blue Trees. Bright moonbeams shine down upon it like shimmering silver, their brilliance causing the entire tree to glow so brightly that it would be blinding for humans, but none has ever entered the Forest.
Suddenly, with a crack of thunder and a bright flash of light, the tree vanishes and in its place stands a young woman — another witch is born. Her long, sapphire blue hair replaces the beautiful branches and leaves of the Tree, a reminder that she brings with her the Powerful Secrets, Wisdom and Magick it held.
She is met by all the witches who have come before her. Casting a sacred circle by the light of the Blue Moon, they welcome her into the Coven and initiate her as one of them, their sapphire hair shimmering in the silvery light.
The oldest and most powerful witch steps forward, her bare feet at the rocks that surround the dancing flames of the ceremonial fire.
With barely more than a few powerful words and a flick of her crystal wand, in a flash a sturdy and magical cast iron cauldron appears on the stones and is given to the young witch. Over the centuries to come, as she and her cauldron work together, the cauldron will receive all the Secrets, Wisdom and knowledge of Magick that the witch possesses.
And so it was that when our young “Witchy” was born, she already knew all the spells, the right potions, everything she would need to take her rightful place in the Coven and to work her own special Magick.
The other witches cast a beautiful spell and Poof! — a little cottage appeared in the woods and Witchy got on with building her life with Enchantra.
On a Mission…
The years passed, soon becoming decades and then centuries. Witchy loved her life in the forest, casting spells to provide food, or to heal sick or injured animals, or other inhabitants of the Forest. Life was wonderful.
She lived on the bounties of her garden and the Forest, with herbs, berries, wild mushrooms, and more. And of course there was an abundance of bats, rodents, frogs, toads, lizards, and insects, allowing Witchy to conjure meals simply and easily. Sometimes there was a big celebration, a special ritual, or another witch was born, and then it was a Dragon Roast Feast for all.
And then came the terrible night…the night of a “secret trauma” that Witchy refuses to discuss. Something frightened her, making it impossible for her to ever take another life. No longer able to use eye of newt, bat wings, cockroaches, or other living “spell-essentials,” the results of her spells were disastrous.
To make matters worse, no one in the Forest had ever refused to eat or use living creatures before, and no one’s spells had ever gone so terribly wrong. Everyone teased her and laughed at her, leaving Witchy feeling completely humiliated — and very much alone.
This disturbing turn of events shattered her confidence in herself and in everything she had ever known. Little did she know that the Witch Tree Spirits had something in store for her.
Witchy’s “secret trauma” and everything that happened afterward were important parts of her journey and her purpose. Witchy had a special mission, one that even she didn’t know existed.
But her cauldron, Enchantra, knew it. She had known it all along, and after waiting centuries, finally it was Time to reveal Witchy’s secret mission:
To light up the world
with hope, healing and humour
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