The House On Gordon Square Part Four

The House On Gordon Square Part Four

Wishing you a very special Samhain this year Goddess Haylee. Hope you have a wonderful night. Love the pumpkin outfit btw! lots of Halloween kisses from England <3 x

Goodnight Moon

Goodnight Moon

starring Hypnotic Haylee

The House of Gordon Square Part Four

by princess indigo

The bodies of Peter Smoke and princess indigo had been borne from the van with great rapidity. The driver was very eager to leave but found himself caught in conversation.
‘You should stay Francis. It is a night of great celebration.’ said Marmerella, with faint traces of a Lancashire accent that was just audible above the cacophony that was taking place around them.
‘Celebrating seems to involve a lot of broken glass luv.’ replied Francis Blink tersely, as all through the building furniture and medical equipment was being thrown through the remaining unbroken panes of glass.
Before Marmerella could respond the Madana was interrupted by an out of breath acolyte.
‘The Guardian of the Gate has fallen to one of the Witches.’ said a hurried Latin American voice from underneath her cowl.
‘I told you she’d come knocking on your door, but you’ve been too busy breaking bloody windows.’ exclaimed Francis quite angrily.
‘We shall shed iron tears.’ answered Marmarella hotly.
‘A response has already been sent Madana.’ replied the acolyte.
‘Be quick be and prepare the Timerahn as you have been taught.’ ordered Marmerella and the acolyte was gone.
‘If you’re going to merrily pick a fight with the Witch of Feverahl then it’s time for me to bugger off.’ remarked Francis as he slammed the door and put his foot down, demolished a large tub of flowers in the process and didn’t look back.

There had been two dozen of them. All belonging to the Cult Nivertene and followers of Dakan just as the Guardian of the Gate. They had not fallen easily but now they too lay silent on the ground. Alexander Black retrieved his hat, his cane and his spectacles. He stood up and tapped disapprovingly at the broken lenses. The cracks gradually healed themselves as he muttered an incantation under his breath then put them on. The Witch of Feverahl stood in silence visually inspecting each one of the fallen.
‘Sweet Max is bleeding upon the ground and refusing to open his pretty eyes. It is very unbecoming. I hope he does not do it often.’ commented Alexander with a sad tone in his voice.
‘It is not a common occurrence.’ replied Goddess Haylee crouching down.
There was a small yellow flower in Her hand and she knelt down and placed it in his mouth. ‘Listen to My words, dear Max. Even though the taste is strange let the petals melt upon your tongue. Do not spit the flower out for it will keep you alive till morning.’
His eyes inched open and he pressed the flower against his palate with his tongue and passed out. Goddess wiped the blood from his brow and then stood up.
‘We should stow the sleepy Max in a place of safety before we go any further.’ Alexander suggested looking down at Max, back across to the Goddess and then at the large House that lay ahead of them.
‘I shall attend to it.’ replied Goddess Haylee curtly not in the best of humours, Her long black hair shining in the moonlight all the more for it.
She wheeled round without further comment and walked ten brisk paces up the drive and stopped, Her shoes making an audible sound on the tarmac.
Coming towards Her was a white van travelling at well over a hundred miles an hour. Francis Blink saw a figure in the drive way, realised who it was and cursed loudly out of the window ‘For god sake will you just get out of the bloody way!’ as the van grew closer and closer.
Goddess Haylee instantly raised Her hand and said calmly and loudly ‘I will do no such thing.’
The van reacted as if it had collided with something invisible, magical and very solid. The front crumpled, the rear wheels locked throwing the vehicle to one side with so much momentum that the van rolled over three times. It finally righted itself in far worse state then when it had begun. A bruised and battered Francis Blink stumbled out, nursing a very bloody nose.
‘Now then lady, don’t lose your temper. All I did was deliver a message and make a few cutting remarks. It wasn’t me who kidnapped your ginger friend right under your bloody nose.’ said a heated Francis Blink making a mess of a spotless white hanker chief as he brought it to his nose.
‘It was you who brought the princess and dear Peter Smoke to this blasted place. If you wish to draw another breath, you will grant me a favour Francis Blink.’ said Goddess Haylee taking a single step forward which made Francis take two steps back.
‘What sort of favour would be asking of a strange man in the middle of the night?’ said Mr Blink as sarcastically as he could manage.
‘Yonder Max has been injured, you will take him to a hospital that isn’t currently alight and ensure that he is safe. You will do it now’ replied Goddess Haylee in a tone of voice that clearly intimidated him.
‘And how am I supposed to do that after you’ve totalled me flipping van?’
Goddess Haylee banged Her staff angrily on the ground. The vans broken metal slowly unwrinkled itself, until the whole vehicle looked brand new and with the thoughtful addition of a fresh tank of petrol.
‘I better open the bloody doors then.’ said Francis Blink ungratefully and in a few moments Max was laid in the back of the van.
‘Enjoy the rest of evening lady.’ Francis Blink called out of the window as he started the engine.
‘Thank you Mr Blink. I suggest you spend the rest of it being thankful you are not dead.’ snapped Goddess Haylee back at him.
‘I’ll bear that in mind when my nose stops bleeding.’ said Francis and drove off.
‘What an interesting fellow.’ said Alexander with a smirk.
‘I swear you only woke up so we could gossip and swap observations about men.’ laughed Goddess Haylee, Her mood finally softening.
‘There has to be a kettle somewhere in that building so we can continue this conversation further.’ smiled Alexander.
‘We can look out for one as we saunter up the drive.’ chuckled Goddess Haylee and set off.

In the headlights of the cars going past it was not possible to make out what it was. Those with better eyes would have made out a large upside down pair of dark wings, swinging in the late night breeze.
In the few moments it was visible in their field of vision, some drivers may concluded that it was a vulture or other bird of prey, that had mistakenly ventured into the city of Kigali. It’s subsequent misadventures leaving it dangled from the traffic island tree.
Even if it had been permitted, few would have stopped their cars to venture out onto the damp grass in the darkness to discover that it was merely a disembowelled pair of large black wings with no discernible owner.
‘I had not expected to find you here.’ said Ariel as she stepped out onto one of the veranda’s of the Hotel Serena and addressed the only other occupant.
‘They are in the process of replacing every building in Kigali. I still have a place in the old city but it’s future is very much in doubt. I am here at the Serena until I decide upon which of the new districts to make my home. So, where are you wings today Ariel?’ said the old Rwandan man still retaining some of the handsome looks that had served him well in younger days.
The flecks of grey in his hair enhanced rather than deflected from his beauty. He took another sip of cassava and did not get up to greet the visitor more informally.
‘Crossing the Kalahari filled my feathers with dust.
I washed them in a fountain and hung them from a tree.’ said Ariel pacing as she spoke.
‘How is Mortimer..?’ said the man flatly.
‘He stirs in his bed but does not wake.’ said Ariel taking a glass of cassava from a newly arrived waitress but not sitting down as the waitress left.
‘And what has Mortimer found out that troubles him so? Is it now Ruzizi’s time to be told? Is that what you have been doing Ariel? Flying from place to place bearing bad news?’ said Ruzizi in a bitter rush.
‘That is exactly what I have been doing. The story does not get better with the telling.’ answered Ariel with an angry sadness.
‘Then say the words, so you know that Ruzizi too has heard them.’ he replied impatiently.
‘This place has fallen. It cannot be saved. Take what you can and fly.’ said Ariel grumpily at the little dance she had been made to do.
‘Queen Doro has already been with the news. She stood there on the balcony and pleaded with me to go with her.’ he explained.
‘Then pack up your Shabti in their ceremonial box and go find your Magi bride; for you must have some sense left in your old wooden head Ruzizi.’ retorted Ariel.
‘She is no longer my bride, Ariel.’ he said revealing the source of his discontent.
‘Just leave Ruzizi. I have plenty more to visit tonight, I do not have the time or humour to stand bickering with you.’ she countered.
‘I would not leave when they were handing out machetes from suitcases until there were so many knives the bodies were piled up in the street. I have been here since there were just a few shacks in the dirt, I will not leave.’ he protested.
‘You will be hunted and killed. Or your library broken open, your books plundered and you’re foolish head converted to their cause.’ Ariel answered with protests of her own.
‘I have great grand children that work in this very hotel, I will not leave them to their fate. Now leave me to finish my cassava.’ said Ruzizi breaking their gaze and looking away.
‘Damn your bloody cassava.’ said Ariel angrily putting down her own glass snatching up his own and hurling it across the verdana so it smashed noisily on the floor.
‘Just leave Ruzizi! Or I shall return with Foxavier and between the two of us, we shall drag you out of Kigali ourselves.’ she shouted at him and then left, just as the startled waitress was returning to investigate the noise.
‘Don’t trouble the mewling brat on my account.’ said Ruzizi to himself.
When the inevitable questions came, he merely sighed at the waitress, scratched his beard vociferously and reluctantly rose to pack.

As they reached hospital there was a loud crash as more of the west wing roof fell in.
‘Well it was the whole night by all accounts!’ said Goddess Haylee responding to some of Alexander’s ribaldries and questions that have been lost to history, as She spared the hospital a glance with Her glowing green eyes.
‘God knows what revelations have been told while I slept in my little brass pot.’ muttered a distracted Alexander and fell silent as he too looked up at the hospital looming large in front of them.
In the silence they both came to a stop.
‘Alexander?’ said the Goddess sensing his change in mood.
‘The last time I was here…’ he said with a wrinkled visage.
‘What is it…’ asked the Goddess Her coaxing voice full of magick.
‘Word of our arrival had got out. They had time to prepare. From the moment we arrived…’ he said struggling to get the words out of his mouth.
‘What manner of thing was it?’ She pressed on.
‘That manner of thing there…’ said Alexander and they began walking again until they reached the large Victorian entrance, where he raised his walking stick to point at what it was.
There by the threshold was a young Fae woman, in brown robes of many different shades, stood on her tip toes and pinned to the wall by a sword that had been driven horizontally between her eyes. Minutes earlier the sword had been pushed in right up to the hilt, destroying the beautiful brown eyes that had once been there. Her pointed ears sticking out through her chestnut coloured hair, betraying she was indeed of the Fae.
‘I have read of this but not seen it for myself. Share what you know dear Alexander.’ She said quietly, touching his arm gently seeing how troubled he was by the sight of it.
‘She is Timerahn. This is one of their customs of battle. The way is barred by magick and we cannot cross the threshold until the blade is drawn.’ he said rubbing his beard as he looked at the woman on the wall.
‘Go on Scholar.’ Goddess Haylee instructed.
‘It is a Timerahn trap. A battle sacrifice to ensnare an enemy. A bitter use of magicks it is. As soon as the sword is drawn it summons dark and powerful forces to curse and blight the enemy. It is the same trick they used the last time I was here and the cost was great, I tell you that.’ he said ruefully.
‘Too much has been lost today, to turn our heels and run away.’ came the answer that only a Goddess could give and the Witch of Feverahl grabbed the sword by the hilt and pulled it from the wall with all Her strength.

There was an old theatre near Lezuma Park and that had been his destination. It was a cold evening and his breath hung in the air as he walked along. The feather Ariel had given in him, had grown searing hot in his hand and he had almost dropped it as flew across the sky. All on the journey he had kept the dim image of Buenos Aires in his mind now the reality of the city was all around him.
He put the feather back in the pocket of his jacket which was inadequate against the cold. He was in the centre of Lezuma Park itself, not quite where he had expected to be. There was music echoing over the park from the bars that ran along its edge. He stopped and listened, unsure of which direction to go.
He had been through the Park with some of them on his last visit and he guessed the memory was the cause for him being here now. He recognised a few of the restaurants and bohemian arcades he could see through the trees. He had often studied the faces there, for some insight into the human condition that had so filled the surface of the Earth.
The park was dark, icy and cold. Some of the trees were caught in the street lights and seemed to loom out of the darkness. They felt vast and old, he imagined they were watching him in their own way. A few lost souls passed him but he felt no inclination to approach, they were not who he was looking for.
As he emerged from Lezuma Park he found himself facing a particular direction and he felt it was the right way to go. He struck out following the impulse and continued up the road that ran along the park like an old decorative border.
He was stopped on three separate occasions for noxious powders, two persons offering to sell, one enquiring to buy.
He grunted a no and shook his head to underline it, deciding to cross the street and avoid a fourth interruption to his concentration.
This was the San Telmo district and there were many bars and late night shops and all manner of different restaurants and colourful cosy little places to eat. Couples and small groups of people wandered past him, quickly darting inside out of the cold.
Something in him hurt and he realised he had burnt his hand badly. He recalled clutching at the glowing feather as he passed high over the dark Atlantic. Praying he would not lose his grip upon the bright hot object and tumble to his death.
San Telmo is one of the older parts of Buenos Aires with a long patch worked history. The crumbling nineteenth century buildings reminded him of his London home but with more flourish to the eaves, roofs and windows. The windows of the bars let the interior lights out like tatty sequins and the glimpses of impromptu tango dances inside made his task harder. Walking past each doorway he felt the cold a little more.
San Telmo of all the old city districts in the world had one of the largest colonies of Magi. He had been here on many errands and even more misadventures. His last visit had gone particularly badly, his pride and a little of his reputation had been frayed and frazzled. He had not been back since.
Lost in this recall he walk past a large antiques shop and found himself unable to proceed. The old flotsam and jetsam of Argentina filling every corner with hand written price tags hung from each item, written with a fountain pen in the old style. He had reached his destination.
Though the nineteenth century gas lamps with modern electric bulbs were illuminated, the door of the shop was locked shut. The sign declared that they were closed in an old Spanish serif font, who’s name and typesetting have been long lost to the printers of the world.
He reached for the feather in his jacket, instead the lock turned and the door opened of its own accord. He made a little sigh, closed his jacket and went inside.
The large ground floor was overflowing with Italian and Spanish antique furniture, with smaller objet d’art hung from every and more items stacked on every table and chair. There were shelves, pedestals, chairs, sideboards, bureaus and rocking chairs. Books books and more books. A plethora of decorative lamps hung from the walls, the ceiling or sat upon furniture nestling in amongst it all.
Once again, he felt echoes of old London but the metal and glasswork had an epidemic floral finish that was missing on the other side of the Atlantic. In spite of his previous misadventures, had his life taken a different course, he would have moved to San Telmo. He felt a wrankling pang that now he may never get the chance.
In the middle of the room was a wide stairway with a red carpet, brass banisters and carpet braces. Heated female voices could be clearly heard from the landing above.
A small well groomed, elderly man, in a Latin American tweed three piece suit, stepped out from the forest floor of furniture and coughed. His attention caught, the man said nothing to the guest, merely looked over the top of his spectacles gestured with a balletic move of his hand and Foxavier went upstairs.

There amid the most expensive of the shops antiquities sat in a circle of leather chesterfield sofas and chairs were some of the most highly regarded Magi in all the world. Elders of once vast clans and families. Dressed in dark rich reds, purples and blacks complementing the decor around them. As if the past was a separate kingdom that belonged entirely to them, which it did. Their clothes were edged with much black lace, all frilled collars and cuffs. Foxavier had known them all for a very long time.
There was Felistare, Samantra, the Widow Barbary, Lady Synistry, Tinsh-timery, and the Grand Madame of the Swans. Each had a porcelain cup in their hand and in place of a coffee table was the tattered grey robed figure of a Baba Yaga on her knees, her hands bound behind her, with a silver coffee pot on a silver tray sat upon her back. They fell silent as Foxavier reluctantly approached them.
‘Your journey has been a wasted one Foxavier.’ declared the Widow Barbary to murmurs of agreement.
‘We have it from the source. What a bitter foul smelling thing it is.’ spat Lady Synistry.
‘It and its companions assumed that if this place has indeed fallen then they had free access to our buildings and our property.’ the Grand Madame of the Swans continued banging her walking cane upon the well varnished floor boards.
‘It’s companions were very insistent and full of folly.’ Tinish-timery.
‘They soon understood the depth of their error.’ echoed Samanthra glaring at the Baba Yaga on the floor.
‘This one has finally fallen silent, after singing much that was of interest to us. Rest assured Foxavier, word has already been sent. Your job has been done for you, not for the first time. We were about to send it to join its companions, after a little further discussion.’ Felistare informed him ,poking the Baba Yaga painfully with a black frilled umbrella.
‘Do not…’ Foxavier said, surprising even himself.
‘You feel sorry for it? Foolish sentimental Foxavier.’ chuckled the Grand Madame of the Swans.
‘It is no friend of yours. Are you girl?’ snapped Samnathra, giving the Baba Yaga a kick.
‘I will take responsibility for her.’ Foxavier found himself saying.
‘Sentimental Foxavier. Never borne but put together like a badly ticking clock. Broken, tinkered with and reassembled many times again.’ remark Tinsh-timery condescendingly.
‘What do you intend to bargain with, stupid Foxavier?’ the Widow Barbary asked him scornfully.
‘Bargain?’ Foxavier queried, his burrow furrowing.
‘I have some terms for you Foxavier. A lock of your hair and a drop of your blood in exchange for this thing.’ decided Felistare.
Before he could even agree, Lady Synestri rose with a large pair of scissors in her hand and cut a lock of hair from his head, then drew the unexpectedly sharp blade across his cheek.
The Baba Yaga was dragged to her feet by the whole group of them and pushed towards him. His hosts merely standing silently looking at him. Sensing there were no more words to be had, he untied the woman. Taking her bandaged hand, he led her down the stairs and walked out uncertainly into the street.

Goddess Haylee was learned, powerful and experienced. She had over the years accumulated an abundant supply of special items, herbs and many, many reference books. All in their totality impractical to carry but none the less essential for moments such as these.
She had many a secret hiding place, an abandoned house, a hidden passage or an underwater cave with an air pocket big enough for two. A large wooden box that sat innocuously under a desk in an old railway station somewhere. All unnoticed and untouched save by the owner and the one given the task of keeping them safe and replenishing items that had been spent. Such foresight saved many a long journey to Feverahl and back.
That is to say, that Goddess Haylee had an attendant spirit. Not a ghost exactly, but something or someone not of this realm. A mysterious elusive entity, who when summoned would do Her bidding in times of need. His name, for it was a he, was Phisalae.
The details of their history and the terms of his compliance were known only to themselves. He did have a life of his own, but not a mortal one as we would know it. Simply put there were certain demands upon his time which meant he could not always come when called. Whenever possible he was at the beck and call of his Master and Goddess.
Goddess Haylee thought for the briefest of moments and then pictured a particular item in Her mind, then a moment later She snapped Her fingers. An old black satchel appeared eight feet away, walked itself to where She was standing and the Goddess took it by the strap with ‘Thank you dear Phisalae’, then knelt down and began to rummage inside.
‘Tharfax…no…aradavish…no…hair of colic dog…hardly…no…no.. a little black box of nither sight!’ She said pulling an engraved black box from the satchel.
‘Nither sight, for this evil little Timerahn sent to vex us.’ scoffed Alexander, the memory of the last time he was here at the forefront of his mind.
‘They are not all evil the Timerahn, by any means. We do not know her history to make such judgements. Whoever she was and whatever life she had, she is quite dead now Alexander.’ said Goddess Haylee gently reprimanding him as She went about complicated work.
‘An ounce of wisdom from the wise. I shall count my blessings and still my tongue.’ he said in a conciliatory tone.
‘Dont go that far dear Scholar, I shall never forgive you.’ said Goddess Haylee with a smile Her greens eyes twinkling, ‘Besides most of her brains are embedded in the wall yonder or on the blade of the sword that put them there. Whatever malice aforethought was in her shall not trouble us over much.’ said Goddess Haylee resolutely, as She finished cleaning the wound in the dead woman’s head and opened the box.
Inside were three dark little spheres, suspended in dark murky liquid which had an oily film covering it.
‘Three…only three, the rest have perished with age. Best go hunting in Ruldegig market for some fresh sweet Phisalae. I would come with you but I fear I am going to be quite busy.’ said Goddess Haylee making a decision and plucking two spheres from the box.
‘Or dead.’ said Alexander glumly.
‘You read too many gothic novels Alexander!’ exclaimed Goddess Haylee and pushed first one then the other of two spheres into the horizontal wound where once had sat the eyes of the Timerahn.
‘I borrowed them off you.’ retorted Alexander with a chuckle peering at what see was doing and pulling a little face.
‘Then you better give them back!’ the Goddess exclaimed as She wiped Her fingers.
She closed the box, put it back in the satchel and held it out for Phisalae to take, which he did in an instant. Looking around She picked up the sword that had caused such a dramatic injury and wiped it on the grass, took a cloth from Her robes to more thorough clean it, admiring the blade in the moonlight.
‘She’s not doing very much.’ Alexander remarked looking down at the inert creature.
‘They’re taking root. When the two separate strands reach the brain cavity and begin to interlace then she will start to wake.’ said the Witch of Feverahl standing up.
‘Well this one may rise to find nither sight growing out from the hole in the back of its head.’ said Alexander his compulsion for sarcasm a congenital condition.
‘Then I will prune it or get Phisalae to fetch a hat. Now hush Alexander, she is waking up.’ said the Goddess with a small gesture of Her hand to indicate She meant it.
The Timerahn sat up groggily, too much of her brain gone to allow her much speech. She screwed up her face, unaccustomed to the replacement eyes that were in her head.
‘Name?’ it asked croakily, ‘Name?’ she said rubbing the back of her head, where the nither sight was busy filling in the hole.
‘Stand up Timerahn.’ commanded the Witch of Feverahl full of authority.
The Timerahn screwed up its face again, shook its head quite forcefully. She tried to stand failed and offered up a hand indicating she would not achieve the task on her own.
Goddess Haylee and Alexander both helped the wobbily new arrival to her feet.
‘You must give me a name for the spell to begin. Name, please give me a name. A name, a name must be given for this to begin. Name, name, name…’ the Timerahn declared, its speech becoming clearer.
‘You shall be Tawney. That is the name I bestow upon you.’ said Goddess Haylee straightening her crumpled robes and smoothing down the long chestnut brown hair which was quite askew.
‘Why this name?’ said the woman flatly, turning her head stiffly and looking at the Goddess.
‘The markings on your face and the manner of your dress struck Me as like the Tawney owl.’ replied the Goddess, ‘I am very fond of owls and all night things. Now take a deep breath Tawney of the Timerahn, you are about to be born.’
Tawney did as she was bid and as the breath finished she clutched her head as the spells bred into the nither sight roots caused its growth to accelerate. Forcing Tawney the Timerahn onto her knees and with a great cry. There was further pain and louder noises, until finally both subsided and the newborn Timerahn stood up.
‘Greetings Tawney of the Timerahn. I am the Goddess Haylee. Take this sword and become My personal protector. This protection is extended to My friend Alexander Black.’ said the Witch of Feverahl with great ceremony.
‘I’m afraid you have your work cut out for this evening.’ remarked Alexander.

It had grown a little colder, even for a summer’s night.
‘There are not many who come visit us here on Sakhalin.’ he said poking the fire with his stick.
Ariel had flown to Sakhalin, an island north of Japan in the Sea of Okhotsk. Primarily a Russian territory with three indigenous peoples one of whom was known as the Nivkh.
‘You have an old name Ixion.’ said Ariel not sitting down, prowling restlessly in the shadows.
‘I am an old man, named after old things. Not as old as the Ab. Not as old as you.’ he said and poked the fire in a manner that show she was not welcome.
‘If I knew where to find you, so will they.’ replied Ariel, her voice echoing in the crumbling concrete building, glimpsing the stars through the holes in the ceiling.
‘I have long since parted company with the Magi and the Scholars. I tell stories round the fire, sing old songs badly and play my bear drum. Some of the Nivkh grandmothers poke their grandchildren in the ribs and whisper that I was old when they were young. That there was a time when even grandmothers ran barefoot in the grass and giggled with rapturous mirth at being alive.’ he said croakily, for he had grown more and more reclusive and had not spoken for some time.
‘You have knowledge that would be of use in the strife that is to come.’ said Ariel finally coming to a stop and pouring a small cup of tea from the old clay pot and sipping with a graciousness that was not always apparent.
‘There is no wisdom in my old head that I wish to share!’ he snapped.
‘Then I would ask to talk with the old She bear and her cous-lings before the sunrise.’ said Ariel.
‘I know no bears.’ came a cold lie from the old man’s mouth.
‘This is the night to ask for the unwelcome favours. Aye Ixion, not tomorrow, the day after that or the day yonder!’ rounded Ariel her patience, fraying further than it had before.
‘Tell it to the five decks.’ he said angrily, unaccustomed to being petitioned.
‘Oh spare me from old and contrary souls. For their wit and wine is like unto a cup of dead roses served to a deaf donkey with no hat!’ said Ariel with a loud growl kicking a brand from the fire which scattered sparks this way and that as it bounced along in the darkness.
‘I know no bears.’ he reasserted refusing to budge.
‘Damn you Ixion, will you not go to the forest and shake your drum?’ she heatedly beseeched him.
‘No!’ he answered.
‘This is a night like no other Ixion. Will you not listen, you stubborn old man!’ she was shouting now and it made no difference.
‘Whatever the month, whatever the week, whatever the day, whatever the hour, there is always intrigue, trouble and strife!’ he yelled waving his stick with an old fury, ‘On a calm and sunny day one person will turn to the other and ask the time, in secret preparation for some Machiavellian act. So in turn the answer is amended to suit the teller and fool the asker. Soon the lie will become known and fiery recriminations made. Tempers are lost, blows struck, curses sworn and so it goes on and on and on. Season upon season, like bad habits reborn again and again. It never ever stops.’ Ixion said, his years of frustration with the business of life boiling up like the old worn kettle hung over the fire.
‘So be it old Ixion, do not shake your drum.’ she said at last in a much gentler tone, ‘Stubborn though thou art, I wish thee well. All I have left to visit this night, are those twice as stubborn as you. Even more reclusive and contrary, on far further islands than this one. So spare me your rancour and send me away with a wry smile, a kind word and we will forgive each other’s reprimands.’ said Ariel finally when the old man had recovered his temper.
‘Then leave them be and return to London.’ replied the Ixion not looking up from the fire, his voice softening with each word.
‘Perhaps I will.’ said Ariel dropping her cup onto the dirty concrete floor, impassively letting it break.
Then, pulling open the knot of the rope that held her long black wings in place so they would not trail in the fire, she rose up through the broken ceiling into the night.
She did not return to London, as much as she wanted to.

The hospital had fallen silent, as if anticipation of them. The Witch of Feverahl found herself opening her green eyes wide and looking back at the way they had come. All over the grounds lay the fallen bodies of patients and staff who had tried to flee. On some of the closer bodies it was possible to see in detail the injuries inflicted and the expressions of the dead. She did not avert Her eyes, when they fell upon them, it fuelled whatever resolve had brought Her this far. When there was no more looking to be done, She turned in silence to Alexander and the new borne Tawney and then to the darkened entrance of the hospital itself.
A single light in the foyer came on, leaving much of it in shadows, the light making the Witch’s long black hair shine. The rest of windows of the hospital were in darkness, save those rooms that were ablaze.
Somewhere deeper in the building, something large was thrown through a window several stories up. The glass and whatever had been thrown made noisy contact with the ground below. From the same direction someone screamed in a manner that was extremely chilling.
There were further cries and protests, followed by quiet, then a loud clatter as the owner of the protesting voice landed upon something metal and made no other noise. The hospital too fell once more into silence, which was far more unsettling than the noises that preceded it.
‘I think they are ready for us Alexander.’ said Goddess Haylee, glancing at up him then taking a reluctant step towards the hospital’s doors.
‘Is this the right time to confide I am afraid of the dark?’ he said.
‘Do you have any Shabti about your person Scholar?’ said the Goddess not rising to his frail levity, Her voice lost in thought as She edged a little closer towards the building.
‘I have the last of them deep in my coat pockets. All but two are left, the rest were lost. I have not had the chance to carve the set anew.’ he said with slight hesitation as found himself remembering the night in question in more detail.
‘Then save them until their hands are round your throat!’ said Goddess Haylee insistently, not turning round.
‘Alas there is only one left after that. Mariander my favourite of all.’ said Alexander placing the small lapis lazuli statuette in the top pocket of his coat and patting it gently.
‘Have your sword in your hand Tawney of Timerahn. Be brave and be ready.’ said the Goddess without looking back and stepped even closer to the building.
‘Yes Master.’ answered the Timerahn with a warrior’s voice, drawing her sword and taking a step forward.
‘In the darkness things unseen, that do not wish us well. Let us three go venture there and send them all to Hell.’ said the Goddess with a dark and serious manner, then led them inside.

In front of them was the badly lit, wide reception area of the hospital. The reception desk was in turmoil and much of its contents strewn about the foyer, along with over turned chairs and a coffee machine that appeared to be the victim of a motorway pile up. A photocopier had been dragged from the side office and disembowelled. The contents of it were strewn over the bodies of admin staff, nurses, doctors and dozen or more patients. Blood and black ink from the toner cartridge of the photocopier was smeared all over the floor and hand prints of both colours lined the walls.
In the still air was the smell of burning, dead people and the additional odour of burning dead people. From the unlit insides of the building, doors banged open and shut. A loud noise and tremors in the floor were felt as something heavy and metal was rammed with a steady rhythm against some door of a similar variety, continuing in slow monotony like a bell. The sound and the vibration disquieting the senses of all who heard it.

Either side of the war torn reception desk was a set of doors leading to the darkened innards of the building. Both sets of doors hung painful from their hinges as if the assailants had a deep hatred for the very fabric of the building itself.
‘Timerahn have done some of this. Some Baba Yaga and others, many others. Some have already left, more are coming, many more.’ said Tawney sniffing the air, then crouching down and sniffing at the bodies, ‘I think I killed this one, it has my smell upon it.’ she said standing up, ‘The fire has taken hold, come sunrise this place will be all ash.’
‘I sense a great tangle of threads in this place. Your legacy Alexander, the past and present of the hospital itself and the wreckage of what has been twice vested upon it. A mad, frenetic jumble of life, death and Magick. There are undercurrents of yet more things set in motion. Some of it I can grasp but much is in shadow. I smell a dark future in all of it.’ said the Goddess, as She garnered as much as could She from Her senses and Her great experience.
‘We have kicked over a bucket full of trouble. New and old! Peter Smoke is lain somewhere in all this mess. I can hear a single note played quietly. By the sound, I think he will be dead before we reach him. If we reach him at all. What of your other friend, is she here among this?’ replied Alexander solemnly.
‘She is here. If it weren’t for her dealings with the Fae I would not sense her at all. The traces are so faint and hidden by Magik. “Old Magick berthed by stars none dare name except in whispers…”‘ said the Goddess thoughtfully.
‘The Book of Nivertene.’ Added Alexander.
‘And pious self important prose it is.’ growled the Goddess.
‘I tried to finish it but it made my sinuses hurt and I had to put the kettle on.’ chuckled Alexander.
‘At you least you were a little wise, I soldiered on with the damn thing. I never finished it though. My little hermitage was burgled and it was among the volumes taken. I was so vexed I moved out my belongings and burnt it to the ground, for one of my dogs…no matter…it is not the time for stories.’ said the Goddess sweeping the memory from Her mind with a little gesture of Her fingers as Her long black hair fell across Her shoulders.
There was an unexpected movement and noise. Goddess Haylee and Alexander turned to see Tawney dash towards the doors of the East wing, stopping just ahead of them and reaching down for something. Which she promptly sniffed at and brought back to them.
‘This has his smell upon it. The unrepentant dusty book ridden smell of a Scholar.’ declared Tawney and handed what she had found to Alexander.
‘It is my Shabti box!’ exclaimed Alexander, taking it from Tawney’s hand.
‘Do not open it in haste.’ said the Goddess Haylee raising Her hand in alarm.
‘It feels empty enough. The seal has been broken and the blessing carved on it has been defaced.’ he said inspecting it and giving it a gentle shake to see if it was truly empty.
The shake brought forth a small rattling noise but no further clues. All that was left was to open the box.
‘Phisalae be ready. I may have need of you.’ called Goddess Haylee and the doors of the hospital creaked open and soft footsteps were heard, ‘Do it Alexander but do it quick.’ instructed the Goddess ready for trouble.
Alexander took a deep melodramatic breath and openly the box sharply. Inside, among little step like rows was a single Shabti. He reached inside tenderly and took from the box. The face of the tiny lapis figurine had been scratched out, making Alexander’s own become crestfallen and sad.
‘They have killed dear Whitsiminie!’ he said in a tone suggesting that the figurine had been something once alive, which indeed it had.
At the call of the dead Shabti’s name the light in the lobby went out and a light in the east corridor came on.
‘Bread crumbs in the forest.’ muttered Goddess Haylee.
‘We are being led, we must be on our guard.’ voiced Tawney looking slowly about her, her sword in hand.
‘Indeed.’ said the Goddess.
Alexander with elegant hurry returned Whitsiminie to the box, closed the lid with no small sense of reverence and stowed it away in his coat. The three of them edged forward through ruined doorway into the light beyond.

They found the long hospital corridor dimly lit for a hundred metres before descending back into darkness. Littered over the floor were patients records, medical equipment and the inner contents of the vending machine.
Broken limbs and other body parts lay among packets of crisps, chocolate, and scattered case notes. Bloody hand and fingerprints lined the walls. They glanced up at the ceiling to see the words ‘This place has fallen’ written in blood, a pair of step ladders lay across the far end of the corridor, a bloody trail left behind it.
Bits of the false ceiling were missing. Through the gaps it was possible to see that tied to the pipes and girders were police and ambulance crew. Their foreheads plastered with gaffa tape, keeping their heads in place, so it was possible to see their throats had been cut. Each hanging directly above the dark puddle that had dripped on the floor. The smell of blood was fresh and the smell of burning was stronger here.
‘May trees grow over the place that you lie. Though when we look for you, we’ll look to the sky. So the stars will take you and sing to you rest, then write you a lullaby, a song for the blessed.’ whispered the Goddess to an astonished Tawney.
‘It’s an old Timerahn blessing for those…’ explained the Witch of Feverahl to Alexander’s puzzled face.
‘…who have met a troubled death.’ finished Tawney and then looked away.
‘It is a verse from old dusty books left in long forgotten places!’ exclaimed the Goddess breaking the uncomfortable silence.
‘We should look for another of your Shabti scholar.’ said Tawney forcibly moving the subject along.
‘I think I have found it without looking.’ said Alexander stiffly gazing along the corridor down at the floor.
Tawney sniffed the air, stepped rapidly over different pieces of debris, jumped over the fallen step ladders and stopped just short of a half open set of doors shrouded in darkness.
‘It is just on the threshold. Shall I fetch it?’ said Tawney about to bend down.
‘No Tawney!’ yelled the Goddess, ‘Do not be impulsive.’
‘It is a statuette just like the others.’ said Tawney still looking down at it.
‘Tawney step back from the doors. Do it now.’ instructed the Goddess in a stern voice.
‘Do as she says Timerahn, it is not safe.’ seconded Alexander.
‘Sniff the air.’ hissed the Goddess as Tawney was transfixed by indecision.
Tawney did as she was instructed and leapt backwards over the step ladders landing on her haunches, ‘There is something in the shadows. It waits and watches.’ said the Timerahn alarmed that she had not sensed it before.
‘Walk slowly back and stand beside us. Make no rash decisions until we are sure of what it is.’ commanded the Goddess and Tawney walked backwards slowly watching her steps but continually glancing up at the doors.
When she was done, a figure at last stepped out of the shadows.
‘I know what it is.’ said Alexander in painful recognition.
‘Then quickly impart your knowledge Scholar.’ said the Goddess urgently.
‘It is the handsome doctor, I met so many years ago. He was the bait of the Timerahn trap. They have kept his body fresh all this time and now he has been awakened.’ said Alexander his voice revealing the hurt that his words did not.
The man stepped forward, the light revealing the period clothing that matched Alexander’s. The man did not respond other than to move his foot forward and step on the Shabti that had led to his arrival and press down with his foot until the figurine broke in two.
‘Parvillion…’ muttered Alexander wincing at the action.
‘Was that it’s name?’ said the doctor, kneeling down and picking up the two broken pieces,’ I shall steal these broken parts of him and claim all that he was.’ he added picking up the pieces, rising to his feet, then slowly putting them in his mouth and swallowing them.
‘What are you?’ snapped Goddess Haylee disgusted by what She saw.
‘I am what they have made me. From now I shall be known as Parvillion, eater of souls. I have other matters with which to attend, but we will renew our acquaintance by the morning.’ said Parvillion turning to go.
‘Wait!’ yelled Alexander.
‘You shall not leave.’ said Goddess Haylee raising Her staff and with a powerful spell compelled him to turn back around.
‘You should not have done that Witch.’ replied Parvillion frozen to the spot.
‘We have questions for you Parvillion.’ boomed the Goddess’s voice down the corridor.
‘I owe you answers none.’ replied Parvillion scornfully, twisting painfully trying to escape the spell that held him fast.
‘Who was it that made you? What is their name?’ commanded Goddess Haylee loudly causing panels to fall down from the ceiling.
‘You will find out soon enough, but I will not confide in thee.’ replied Parvillion his voice full of venom.
‘Your mind is slippery but it will be opened to Me.’ said the Goddess as She probed his thoughts, Her voice echoing eerily all around them.
‘The boughs of Feverahl are laden with fruit, I could eaten them one by one.’ answered Parvillion with a cruel chuckle.
‘You will never find it.’ said a scornful Goddess, Her temper rising.
‘Phislae knows where it lies, perhaps I can catch him. But do not worry Witch, I am not here for you.’ answered Parvillion turning his gaze to Alexander.
‘And what is it you want with me?’ said Alexander his own temper rising.
‘To destroy all you hold dear.’ came the calm and self assured answer.
‘I will tear every plot and plan from your head for that. By morning you will know not rhyme nor reason.’ said the Goddess full of fire, raising Her hand and lifting Parvillion off the floor with Her power, until he was pinned against the ceiling.
‘It is time for you to open your book dear Scholar.’ She instructed, as Tawney watched the scene wide eyed.
‘I am certainly in agreement with you.’ replied Alexander, an old leather bound book rising from his pocket and settling in his hand.
The book opened under it’s own power and the pages turned with a gentle gesture of his fingers, until they settled on a particular passage.
‘The very thing for creatures of the dark.’ said Alexander to himself as the Witch of Feverahl carefully approached the angry and struggling Parvillion.
‘Tawney…’ said the Goddess over Her shoulder.
‘Master?’ enquired the Timerahn.
‘Watch our backs and do no reckless things.’ Goddess Haylee commanded.
‘Yes Master.’ responded the warrior drawing closer and turning to watch the doorway which they had come, listening for the slightest sound.
‘You have made an enemy of both of us, all too quickly Parvillion, Eater of Souls.’ declared Goddess Haylee with a darknes in Her eye.
‘I am a new born thing. Full of the strength and fury of a mewling brat, I will not be held against my will!’ yelled Parvillion at the top of his voice, thrashing in his unseen bonds.
‘Where are My friends!’ shouted Goddess Haylee back at him, shaking the creature like thunder.
‘Do not look for what cannot be saved.’ roared the creature back at Her.
‘Then listen thing, and listen well, “The Emperor grew tired of the interloper and cursed him thus. ‘Give us your secrets, give and confess. Give up your secrets with your dying breath.”‘ recited Alexander from his book causing the air to hum with power.
‘All the dead Parvillion knew of you, I know. Your ways and your craft, are transparent as glass. I will not bend to your words!’ raged Parvillion, the panels in the ceiling rattling with his anger.
‘Your body will break before you slip free of us. Tell us thing, tell us it all!’ commanded Goddess Haylee at full volume, the humming and rattling increasing greatly.
‘I was made from many. I will break and break again only to grow anew. It will be a long time hence before I breathe my last. That is the very marrow of the truth of it.’ growled Parvillion and with a calamitous anger wrenched himself free of his bonds and fell heavily to the ground breaking many bones in his exertions.
Both Goddess Haylee and Alexander made a rush for him, he rose with the patchwork of magick that he knew. Standing there crumpled and bleeding, growling like a cornered dog.
‘May they send you to damn-ded Coventry.’ he cursed at them, causing the lights to go out.
Through the broken doors in front of them they could see a lift opening casting illumination onto his fleeing figure, the doors closed and then he was gone.

Alexander struck three matches, causing an eager little light in the persistent blackness.
‘There.’ pointed the Goddess, ‘There is a last fragment of the Shabti. Fetch it and there shall be light as before.’
Alexander did as he was bid and a dim reluctant light in the next corridor along came on, blinking above the lift doors indicating that was where they had to go.
He yelped and let his matches go, sucking his fingers then nursing the tiny piece.
‘I cannot say his name.’ said Alexander finally putting the fragment in the box with the others, almost in tears.
‘How many souls did you count that he had eaten?’ said Goddess Haylee giving Alexander a gentle touch on his arm.
‘A round dozen. No bloody more and no bloody less.’ said Alexander rapping out the beat of the words with his walking stick, as he finished.
‘There were four more in his pocket. I smelt them.’ added Tawney, drawing closer to them.
‘With more to follow. I do not think we will see him again today, but still let us hope he is not waiting in the lift.’ said Goddess Haylee going over and pressing the button.
The lift slowly rose, and there was a thumping far off sound of metal against brickwork. As the lift ascended, it grew louder.
The three of them tensed themselves half expecting the lift to be occupied. The open doors revealed nothing, yet they all remained cautious as they went inside. The doors closed and the lift begin to rise the opposite direction to that of the feeling Parvillion.
‘Let us take a deep breath and have our wits about us when walk out into further trouble.’ said the Goddess as the banging noise grew louder and louder.

As they stepped out of the lift they emerged at a three way junction of corridors. A dim light came on revealing the source of the noise. All manner of unfathomable utensils were being used on the fabric of the building. Much of the plaster on the walls had been ripped out revealing bare brickwork daubed with spells. Many of the ceiling partitions had been torn out, pipes broken and live cables hung down.
A body lay beside the second lift, the doors open and an ever growing stain on the floor revealed that an ingenious method had been found for removing its head. Intestines and other innards had been hung from the supporting framework of the partition ceiling.
That was not the worst of it. The architects of this chaos were by far the most disconcerting. Hidden in among the shadows four of them jostled to get a glimpse of the new arrivals. Six foot or more they were. Half humanoid with abdomen’s that resembled a large lobster or some such, artificially grafted on to the pale naked torso’s. Half a dozen legs sprouted underneath the crustacean like armour.
This dense armour was cast in dark shiny hues, each individual speckled with different dashes of bright colours. The tails of these casings rippled and flexed, the spindly legs allowing short bursts of fluid horizontal movement.
The armour continued upward covering most of the chest but torso’s that sat atop these bodies were the most alarming. Two long thin muscular arms reached down to the ground and a head covered in the pale moist translucent skin usually seen on maggots.
Large black eyes were set into these bald fleshy heads with mangled pointed ears poking out. The lower part of the face resembled that of a leopard seal, with black whiskers and long crystalline teeth. The creatures were wide in girth moving heavily but nimbly on their swift legs.
Their origin and culture were obscure, known simply as the Fhuritans, an ancient order of the Vicious Circle. Responsible for engineering some of the fabled Dark Cities, of which there are many legends. Sitting upon their vast mountains overlooking the deep fear chasms, memory abattoirs and truth butcheries. The first of them stepped forward, nimbly shifting in small circles refusing to settle on one spot.
‘There are many prideful Witches and Scholars who now reside in the Psyche Farms begging for death. Today we shall add to their number.’ scoffed the large youthful specimen carrying a pair of large restraining pincers.
‘Your own pride is in great need of re-evaluation.’ said the Goddess, Her tone and a stance that showing the dangerousness of their new opponents.
‘I am Scarfeleon, many a Scholar or Magi has awakened with my pincers around their throat. One day when you are chained up in your pens, eating the food from your troughs, your name and identity taken from you in exchange for a number burnt into your hides, you will remember who put you there.’ she answered, her carapace twitching with energy.
‘You will be very disappointed today Scarfeleon.’ answered Alexander, glancing briefly at the Goddess’s curious gaze, as he took his book once more from his pocket.

Alexander and the Goddess paused almost indistinctly, realising that Tawney had vanished. A searching look from Alexander in response to the Goddess’ expression conveyed that he did not know where she was. In a moment his book had been plucked from his hand by a bold pair of pincers.
‘How vexing. Are you also in possession of my flask and sandwiches, as I seem to have lost them.’ frowned the Scholar.
The culprit discarded the volume and moved aggressively towards Alexander, the Goddess pulled something from Her pockets and threw it at the creature.
‘What have you done Witch?’ protested the Fhuritan as a small grey gelatinous mass attached itself to her carapace.
The object spilt open and a eager ensemble of pale grey mites the size of cookies, rushed out seeking the weak points of its armour. Making ear splitting screams of distress, the creature departed the field of battle.
‘Bravo.’ whispered Alexander.
‘Alas, I have only one.’ admitted the Goddess, as the rest of three more of the Fhuritans emerged out of the gloom towards them.
‘Once this night is done, you will never know freedom again Witch.’ said the Arch-Phetchor of Scaldernay, threwing a barbed lasoo around the Goddess’ staff as She readied to defend Herself, and pulled it swiftly from Her hands.
‘I know you! The Auld Phetchor of Archedae, who dines on blood and bitter promises!’ exclaimed the Goddess with great anger.
‘Long it has been since Andromeda.’ he said, ‘Some of them are still alive from that day. Do you know that Witch?’
‘I demand to know what became of them?’ commanded Goddess Haylee.
‘Three times we have met and it has never gone well for you and your kindred.’ he spat at Her.
‘You will confess your crimes.’ threatened the Goddess, refusing to be intimidated by him.
‘Some have had their knowledge cut from them slice by slice until there was just a dull husk that lived simply to be aware of its suffering. Others have had the entirety of their magiks turned against them for the purpose of study, living out the long years in substantial agony. Others have had pherifie larvae placed under the skin, their souls digested until the adult pherifie emerged with all the powers and knowledge of the long dead host.’ finished the Auld Phetchor with undisguised satisfaction.
‘Long has there been a blood feud between you and I. It shall be paid tonight. Paid in full.’ yelled the Goddess and threw a ball of angry phire wasps at him with all of the strength that She had.
The creature dropped his pincers and caught this ball of fury with his two hands. Cupping his fingers around the fiery mass he contained them until their own heat grew too much for the insects themselves and the whole swarm was fused into a ball of glass. He discarded the object contemptuously on the floor.
‘Much have I learnt from the death of Witches.’ came the deep unremorseful voice of the Arch-Phetchor, ‘It is time for this to be done. I require assistance to take these two criminals into custody.’ he said and two more Fhuritan’s stepped forward, with long restraining pincers.
‘And what crime have you invented Arch-Phetchor?’ glowered the Witch of Feverahl.
‘Free will. A crime for which you are both excessively guilty. Permission is given for these two criminals to be detained.’ said the Arch-Phetchor and his two attendants swept forward.
‘Book, you will attend me.’ commanded Alexander in great alarm and the book, flew up back into his hands.
He immediately tore three pages from it and threw them at the advancing Fhuritan, which them sliced in two, leaving him very dead.
The Arch-Phetchor picked up his pincers and closed them rapidly around Alexander’s neck and lifted him off the ground and shook him until he passed out and they lay him upon the ground.
‘Subdue the Witch. No matter if she is damaged.’ he bellowed at the remaining attendent Fhuritan.
The creature launched itself at Goddess Haylee, the pincers closing around Her neck. Her hands clasped and pulled at the circular metal rims, until they broke such was the intensity of Her struggle. With a powerful incantation, She grabbed hold of the shaft of the pincers and lifted the protesting Fhuritan high above Her head and threw hoisted it through the false ceiling, impaling among the rafters with the handle of its own pincers.
The Goddess fell to Her haunches, exhausted by the effort.
‘Too soon are you spent, Witch.’ said the Arch-Phetchor approaching, taking a pair of hand manacles from the garb around his shoulders.
‘I am not done yet.’ said the Goddess, still summoning the strength to rise.
‘Get on your feet then Witch. I am happy to wait for your incarceration.’ he taunted.
‘No one’s prisoner, will I be.’ said the Goddess and painfully got to her feet, closed Her fingers in a methodical way, stretching out Her index fingers outward, bringing them together and muttered eight words of old Magick under Her breath.
The manacle grew icy cold in the Arch-Phetchors grasp and he dropped them with a yelp.
‘Parlour tricks and incantations will not prevent your capture Witch.’ he shouted and with an angry gesture threw his barbed lasso around the Goddess wrist.
‘Desist! I will not be your prisoner!’ protested the Goddess, grabbed hold of the lasso with Her free hand and pulled it from his grasp.
‘Then you will be killed.’ said the Arch-Phetchor, activating a folded trident that was part of his personal weaponry.
‘Then pray your aim is true!’ cursed the Goddess back at him.
As the Arch-Phetchor lunged forward with his trident, a shadow dropped from the rafters and landed on his back. Before he had chance to react, Tawney’s blade burst through his neck and the Arch-Phetchtor fell.
The beast made a horrible noise at he sucked in air through the gaping wound in his throat. His long spindly legs moving pointlessly as if to flee. Hands and fingers twitching open and closed. At last the Auld-Phetchor died and his struggles and noises ceased.
‘Tawney!’ yelled the Goddess as the Timerahn stood there a little dazed.
‘My sword hand is shaking Master and will not stop.’ came a croaky answer as she backed away from the dead Phetchor.
‘How did you get up in the rafters with no one seeing.’ asked Goddess Haylee taking the Timerahn’s hands and rubbing them to help her stop shaking.
‘The stealth and actions came without thinking. I shrunk into the shadows and soon I found myself nestled on a beam looking down, listening as hard as I could to every sound.’ said the Timerahn sheepishly feeling more embarrassed than brave.
‘You have killed an old enemy of Me and My kin today. There is a great warrior inside of you Tawney of the Timerahn.’ said Goddess Haylee conveying great pride in Her companion.
‘My only wish was to serve. My I ask a question Master?’ said the Timerahn as the Goddess knelt down to check upon Alexander who was unconscious on the floor.
‘Yes Tawney. Wake Alexander, for I know you are not dead.’ She said softly, touching the Scholars cheek.
‘How…how did you manage to do that?’ Tawney hesistantly said gesturing to the Fhuritan impaled in the ceiling.
‘With all of My strength and a great deal of magick.’ She answered as Alexander stirred.
‘I was practising sleeping in case I had forgotten.’ he replied sitting up painfully, ‘I see we have made quite a mess between us.’
‘Stand Scholar and do not worry about the house keeping.’ said the Goddess helping him to his feet, ‘Tawney has slain the Auld Phetchor of Archadae.’
‘I have been a guest in Archadae I have no desire to return.’ he said, grooming his beard.
‘Your book Sir.’ said Tawney retrieving it.
‘A little injured but it will mend.’ he said summoning the torn pages with a subtle wave of his hand, watching the pages return to their source then placing the book in his coat.
‘Sharpen your eyes, there is a Shabti to be found dear friends.’ said the Goddess signalling the next step in their journey.

He hadn’t been sure what to do next or where to go in the darkness. Then he sensed her, following the smell of smoke into the burning west wing of the hospital. The thick clouds scratched his eyes and burnt at his lungs. The flames reached out for him but still he continued. Even though he had no sense of where he was, he feel her. The presence of the one who had brought him into being.
He heard a conversation and instructions given. Dimly perceiving figures through the smoke, surrounded by a fiery glow. One of the Baba Yaga brushed past him and the cold steel of a weapon caught his leg as she went passed and then stopped.
‘No, do not strike. Let him through.’ said a soft woman’s voice in front of him, the Baba Yaga nodded and went on her way.
He followed the source of the light to a doorway, rested a moment and entered. The room was a swarm of fire, the very walls burning. It was hard to see her clearly through the heat and eyes kept closing at the pain of it. There was debris and unconscious bodies upon the floor, making him trip and fall. In an instant she was beside him and he was glad to hear her voice.
‘Let me guide you.’ she said helping him to his feet and letting him lay down upon a hospital examining couch, which had been been scorched and savaged by the heat.
‘You met the Witch and the Scholar then?’ she asked softly, her black straight hair brushing his face, the soft silk fabric of her long white dress touching his arm.
‘They were stronger than I imagined. Much of me is broken. I did not know where else to go.’ he said sadly, the encounter not meeting with his expectations.
‘They are powerful and experienced our enemies. Worry not for the battle, the war has already been won. There are many of us and they are so few.’ replied a soft clear, confident voice.
‘What will become of me?’ he said fearing for his own existence.
‘You have a long road ahead of you. A high mountain path that only you can walk.’ she said stroking his hair with her cold fingers.
‘I have a name now.’ he said suddenly remembering.
‘What is your name?’ she said warmly as her cold fingers stroked his brow.
‘I am Parvillion, Eater of Souls.’ he said croakily the words taking the last of his strength.
‘Then Parvillion, worry not for I have plenty souls for you to eat. I shall feed them to you one by one and restore you to health once more.’ she said as if it was the easiest thing in the world to promise.
‘Who are you?’ he said as she reached down to a young orderly upon the floor and the first morsel was torn from its protesting owner.
‘It is true what is said in whispers behind locked doors.’ she replied.
‘What is said?’ Parvillion asked, not understanding.
‘That the Widow has a daughter.’ was her reply.
‘The Widow…’ he said in a troubled voice, thinking back to the days he was a doctor.
‘Hush. I have an errand to run. Rest Parvillion.’ and then she was gone.

The Shabti had been found, one light had dimmed, another had been lit and they moved on. Behind them a white silk dress moved through the darkness they had left, followed quickly by flames that seemed drawn by the footsteps of its owner.
A new orange light fell upon the silent and still Fhuritan’s. The figure paused, looking down with some sadness, her face hidden by shadows.
‘Scarfeleon my love, it seems that we are done. What passions that we have for one another, must be ever unrequited.’ she said half in truth and half in jest.
Turning she stepped over another dead Fhuritan and walked over to the Arch-Phetchor.
‘But you Auld Butcher of Archadae, are not done. I have plans for your resurrection and ascension, you captor and killer of Witches.’ she said curled her fingers round his fleshly dead jaw and ripped the head from its body.
As she stood gazing as his expressionless countenance she heard voices in the passage opposite and listened a few moments.
‘Alas, there is no time for eavesdropping, I have things to do and newer troubles that need attending.’ she said with a smile of satisfaction and walked away unhurriedly cradling her prize.
Flames rushed in to claim the space she had occupied.

The Shabti once know as Soph-Simeon, had been pinned to the hospital door by a thulphetto thorn that had been deftly hammered through its head. Some effort had been required for its removal and recovery and the sad return to the Shabti box that had once been its home.
A light on the other side of the door had come on and the room where they stood had been swallowed by darkness. Thus they said their blessing and stepped through to find three bodies lying dead upon the hazily lit floor of the corridor, the rest of the passage lost to the dark.
‘I know them.’ said the Goddess quietly restraining Herself from rushing over to inspect the bodies.
‘Two Magi.’ said Alexander.
‘And one Scholar. All freshly slain.’ sniffed Tawney apprehensively.
‘Witches three.’ said the Goddess, ‘Lacklezella, Marada and pretty Folmiverine. There is a price for Witches blood.’ She said Her voice calm and still at odds with Her demeanour.
‘And you shall pay it.’ came a voice from the shadows, which was unpleasantly familiar.
‘You are mistaken in your intention Cal-Daverin, the dead.’ said the Goddess tapping Her and the staff She had left in the prior passage burst through the doors on a breeze of flame settling in Her hand, the wooden tip of it ablaze.
‘A petition was made to Dakan, by my entire clan. The conditions for my resurrection were very clear.’ came the voice that was acidly familiar.
‘What were they, pray tell us and we will shall discuss it amicably.’ answered Goddess Haylee, Her calm collected tone hiding Her anticipation.
‘Send them to Feverahl in a box. Do it with a blade doused with angels and witches blood and that shall finish them all.’ came the voice.
‘What blade is that?’ answered the Goddess Haylee, Her voice becoming stern.
‘This blade.’ said the Gatekeeper becoming visible as she took a stepped forward.
‘It is you who will leave in a box, foul Cal-Daverin.’ challenged the Goddess.
‘That is no longer my name.’ replied the Baba Yaga raising her sword.
‘Then confide what it is, thou killer of Witches.’ ordered the Goddess, Her voice filled with a supernatural power, Her eyes glowing as She spoke.
‘They call me “Too angry to die.”‘ the Baba Yaga yelled, a gale rising as she spoke and launched herself on, sword thrust forward racing towards the Witch of Feverahl.
In urgent anger Tawney threw herself between the two of them, the Baba Yaga in swift fury knocking her from her feet and heavily against the wall, so the Timerahn feel as if dead.
So fast she was that the blade was a foot away from the Goddess before She could react. The tip of it scratching her chest as She struck the sword away with Her staff.

Too Angry To Die turned with frightening speed, knocking off Alxander off his feet, then raising the sword and starting towards Goddess Haylee intent on dealing a second death blow. The Witch of Feverahl knocked the sword from Her assailants hand and clattering down the corridor with one powerful blow.
‘Then I will finish you with my bare hands Witch!’ screamed the Baba Yaga.
‘You will not touch Me!’ commanded the Goddess.
The Witch of Feverahl lowered Her fiery staff in the Baba Yaga’s direction. The staff shot out a burst of flame causing the former Cal-Daverin to explode in a shower of sparks, bones and burning cloth.
‘You will never harm another soul.’ said the Goddess, Her eyes ablaze, Her voice echoing all around them.

Standing with strange quiet, the Goddess touched the wound made by the sword and brought away fingers covered in blood. She faltered, stumbled and fell, letting go of Her staff which was still a flame.
‘You are poisoned. Let me move this burning staff away from you, lest you scorch your robes.’ said Alexander gravely, taking Her hand as he knelt beside Her.
‘Angel Fire has set the building alight. The staff has kept some for itself. Now I have some Angel’s Blood to match.’ She said struggling with words, ‘Phisalae attend Me quickly. Hurry or I will be dead before you get here.’
The doors behind them opened and closed letting in flames and smoke as they did so. There were footsteps as the Goddess’ invisible servant approached.
‘Ice blossom, as fast as you can fly.’ were the only words She could muster.
‘Three.’ added Alexander quickly before the servant left.
‘Four.’ countermanded the Goddess in a whisper, barely keeping Her eyes open.
‘Tawney…’ said the Goddess opening Her eyes again.
‘She is unconscious. A little bruised but she is strong. So are you.’ he said a tear in his voice.
‘It burns Alexander. It burns.’ She answered, Her pain growing.
‘Hush dear friend, do not waste your strength in words.’ he said looking over at the sword lying in front of them, it glittered darkly in the dim light.
‘Do not hush me Scholar.’ She chided with a faint laugh, ‘Our enemies are swift and full of rage.’
‘I have had a taste of it myself and it is a dish that grows no sweeter.’ he said gently.
‘I have missed your wit Scholar, never may it cease.’ She whispered and passed out.
The doors behind them banged open and banged shut as the invisible Phisalae shuffled towards them with great effort and dropped five Ice Blossoms and roll of bandages beside his Goddess.
Large pale frozen flowers shrouded in leaves of icy green, so cold they burnt the tiles of the floor.
‘Thank you Phisalae. Go and rest.’ said the Goddess as She awoke,’Hurry Alexander or they shall be upon us once more.’
The servant disappeared in a passing of a small soft breeze, as Alexander reached down to pick up the first flower. The white petals making him cry out they were so cold. He lifted the flower as if it were a great weight and placed it on the wound, causing the Goddess to make an even louder cry as it melted and dissolved.
Alexander looked at his hand to see a great burn mark there where the flower had been.
‘Again!’ hissed the Goddess in a whisper.
‘Alexander reached down hesitantly and picked up the next blossom with his other hand and placed it down as before. The pain was harder to endure a second time and both their cries a little louder.
Behind them flames had begun to consume the security doors, and smoke was leaking out through the cracks. The bitter smell filling the corridor.
‘Again Alexander, again!’ Goddess Haylee whispered urgently at him.
Alexander cupped the third blossom with both hands and dropped it with yell as the skin turned black and he could hardly move his fingers.
‘Verdamdt!’ swore the Goddess.
‘You curse like the best of them. Alas I cannot manage another, my hands are charred.’ said Alexander sadly.
‘I have had a lot of practise and a lot of cause.’ She laughed and winced with pain, ‘Still it burns. Ab’s blood is turning to Ab’s fire, using My own as fuel. I need more medicine.’ She said fighting for breath.
‘If I push the blossom’s with my foot, perhaps you can lift them. Do you think you can manage?’ he said clutching at straws.
‘I will damn well, bloody well try.’ She said in a faint burst of energy.
Alexander got up, wincing as the exertion made his hands hurt further. Gingerly using his foot, he pushed the blossom he had dropped towards Goddess Haylee’s right hand. Pulling his foot away quickly when he was done.
‘I will need a new pair of shoes when we are done.’ said Alexander.
‘I do not care about your shoes!’ said the Goddess with a painful laugh, ‘I cannot lift My head, how close are My fingers?’
‘Thank you for your concern, just a little more to your left Witch.’ he said sarcastically.
‘Oww! I think I have found it.’ she said drawing Her fingers away and then moving them back, ‘Son of a bitch!’ She said loudly as She lifted the icy flower and dropped it on the wound.
‘It’s not enough. You will have to spoil you other shoe.’ said the Goddess screwing up Her beautiful green eyes as the wound burnt with pain.
‘Alexander’s Apothecary is still open. Alas I am no cobbler.’ he said and gave the fourth flower a shove and brought it level with the Goddess’ left hand.
‘Damn your bloody shoes!’ She answered and shook Her head in a mixture of laughter and pain.
‘I don’t see you rushing to pick up this one.’ said Alexander, his second shoe as ruined as the first.
‘Hell teeth and biscuits. A minute, Alexander! A minute!’ said the Goddess losing Her temper wearily then laughing and making a groan of pain.
‘Time’s up.’ he said folding his arms and regretting it as he hurt his burnt fingers.
‘Cold!’ the Goddess said with a loud cry, lifted the flower with all Her might and dropped it on the wound and winced.
‘There, was there any need for all that fuss?’ his jokes failing to hide the worry in his voice.

‘Scholar?’ Goddess Haylee asked after resting silently for several minutes.
‘Yes?’ he answered not sure of Her tone.
‘It is not enough. I need one last flower. I cannot move never mind lift another. Can you do it?’ She asked him.
‘ I cannot, even though I want to, I can hardly open My fingers. Wait a little, your fever will break soon.’ he said trying to be positive.
‘The doors are on fire Alexander, we have no time.’ She said in an exasperated voice.
‘I had hardly noticed.’ he said shakily his head.
‘Scholar!’ sighed the Goddess, smiling.
‘Never cease they wit she says. Ten minutes on…’ he chuckled.
‘Do not make me laugh!’ She said, shook Her head and then said quietly ‘Alexander…It still burns…’ She said faintly to Her heartbroken companion.
‘Call back Phisalae.’ implored Alexander.
‘Phisalae is in his bed nursing his burnt and bloody fingers. And rightly so.’
‘Goddess at least ask him!” implored Alexander.
‘Phisalae, attend Me now…See it is no use.’ She said after the summoned servant did not arrive, ‘Do not fret, at things that cannot be undone.’ said Goddess Haylee.
‘Damn it all. Damn and damn.’ muttered Alexander.
‘Do not furrow your brow so soon Scholar, it is unbecoming.’ the Goddess looking up at him.
‘Never argue with Witches.’ he said quietly.
‘Very true. Now, shush I have things to do.’ She chided him.
‘What things?’ he asked, not understanding.
‘Listen yonder Timerahn, it is time for you to wake and do My bidding. I know you can hear Me. Even though My voice is faint and you are sleeping.’ said the Goddess with a confident authority in Her quiet voice.
‘She stirs!’ said Alexander dumbfounded.
‘It is not enough for you to stir Tawney, you must rise and serve your Master.’ continued the Goddess Her voice a little stronger.
‘She is still sleeping but she comes.’ said Alexander in awe as the Timerahn got to her feet and approached them, clearly still unconscious.
‘I have been dreaming of the forest. I see faces I once knew but their names are lost to me. They call at me from deep in the woods saying “Once there was a Witch who lived on Fell Mountain.”‘
said Tawney in a distracted monotone voice.
‘Hussssssh.’ commanded the Goddess.
‘You have been hurt?’ asked the Timerahn in the same voice.
‘Yes, I require your services. There is a pale flower on the floor beside you. Pick it up carefully. It will be cold but you must not drop it, no matter what. Place it gently down upon My wound and then you may awaken.’ said the Goddess her voice growing quiet once more.
‘Then I will scorch My Timerahn fingers and deliver it as asked.’ said Tawney stepping forward and picking up the Ice Blossom.
‘Be quick dear Tawney or I shall be gone.’ hissed the Goddess.
‘Colder than a snowflakes heart.’ said Tawney lifting up the last flower and putting it down as quickly and as carefully as she could.
‘ At last you have put the damn-ded fire out.’ said Goddess Haylee, Her fever finally breaking as She closed Her big green eyes.
‘Thank you dear Tawney. I will look through Her things and find something that will help Her heal. I swear She has more pockets than God.’ said Alexander as he reluctantly looked through Her robes, wincing as his fingers hurt.
‘She plucked me from the fire. I pray I have done the same. There look, a vial of Phellspharrow, that is for healing.’ said Tawney suddenly pointing.
‘You have sharp eyes. The very thing.’ he said reaching for it.
‘I need no thanks, for they are not my own.’ said Tawney rubbing her arms to soothe herself.
‘What are you poisoning Me with Scholar?’ said the Goddess as Alexander pressed the vial against her lips.
‘Merely a spoonful of your own medicine.’ he answered as the liquid went down.
‘It better be, or I will ruin more than your shoes.’ She said and went back to sleep.
‘You have quite a wit of your own my dear Witch friend’ he said quietly, returning the small bottle to where it had come.

Tawney was instructed to bind their hands with the bandages Phisalae had provided.
‘Phisalae had good sense.’ said Alexander pulling faces as the bandages went on.
‘Yes he did…I was collecting Ty-ger roots when I found him wandering. I have some Ty-ger balm in My bag.’ said the Goddess sitting up and searching through Her things, ‘There Tawney, your will apply it. Hurry those doors are ablaze and soon the flames will be in here. Alexander can attend to them and you will help Me on My feet.’
‘Yes Master, I will be as swift as I can.’ said Tawney attending to her tasks.

‘Let me open my book.’ said Alexander picking up his cane, retrieving his fallen hat, then searching his pockets for his book. and then
He walked over to the door, the pages of his book turning by themselves once more. The pages at last stopped and so he began ‘”Stop door, let the burning cease. Keep us from harm and keep us from geese!”‘ he said with a flourish.
The leaking smoke and flames snuffed themselves out and the doorway began to brick itself up and give itself a coat of paint into the bargain.
‘Goose magick, all the way from Bartholemew Fayre. They were summers to beat all summers.’ said an ebullient Goddess Haylee now back on Her feet. ‘The Witch of Wandsworth taught us many an old spell and sold us some good books then.’
‘You are in fine fettle. There is even a smile.’ said Alexander warm heartedly.
‘Ice Blossom, Phellsparrow and the aid of three good friends, have helped restore My strength and My humour.’ said the Goddess, ‘Timerahn, fetch My staff and My sword.’ she instructed.
Tawney was quickly by Her side placing the staff in Her hand.
‘The Ab Fire still burns.’ said Alexander looking up at it.
‘The staff has seized it in perpetuity and will not give it up. I in turn will not give up this blade.’ said the Goddess taking the blade that had struck her from Tawney’s hands.
‘A Witch never had two weapons of that power afore.’ said Alexander as the Goddess created a scabbard for the sword and hung it across her back in the style of ancient warriors.
‘They will be needed in the dark years that lie ahead of us.’ said the Goddess sombrely, ‘Come let us say a blessing these three fallen Witches.’
Bidding them to stand in a circle and hold hands She recited slowly and rhythmically ‘Sleep long amongst the fallen and sleep thee well. Among the songs and stories they can no longer tell.’ said the Goddess.
‘There, look in amongst them.’ said Tawney with her sharp eyes.
‘A Shabti.’ said the Goddess.
‘It is Timreck, a rapscallion of no small reputation. Wise crafty and cunning, and sublimely suited to my service. And it is only Death he could not bargain with or slip a coin to avert the moment.’ said Alexander picking up the defaced statuette and squirreling it away.
The lights in the corridor when out and at the end of the hallway became dimly illuminated revealing a circular balcony, the air full of foreboding.

As they approached it, it became clear the large wide half lit circle surrounded a lower level that was shrouded in dark. Above their heads was a large unlit marble ceiling following the shape of the roof, these stone rafters surrounded by more shadows.
All around the circular balcony were office doors, culminating in a set of double doors opposite where they now stood. For once the entire hospital had become silent, they stood looking around them and it was several minutes before any of them spoke.
‘This is where it happened. This is where we killed a king.’ said Alexander.
‘Then we three shall be on our guard.’ said the Goddess Her restored to its full strength, ‘Oleander, Cutlass and Rayne!’ cried the Goddess and banged Her staff loudly upon the wooden floorboards of the balcony.
In from the darkened corridor behind them flew three greylag geese. Landing with great commotion, squawking and bobbing their heads left and right.
‘Master?!’ said Tawney shocked by Her actions.
‘Fear not Tawney, they will do us no harm. Best keep your fingers from near their beaks though.’ said the Goddess with a wry smile.
‘Goose magick is old, rarely used or contradicted.’ said Alexander smiling because the Goddess had subverted the spell he had cast earlier.
‘Rarely used because it has been forgotten and so rarely beaten. These are part of the Witch of Wandsworth’s flock. She is passed now, alas I only know three of their names.’ said the Goddess proudly looking at the new arrivals, ‘Now clear the way.’ She said letting the bobbing greylag geese through.
The three birds split up, squawking excitedly as they examined each of the doors along the balcony, making affirmatives noise to indicate that each door in turn was locked and there was no hint of tampering.
‘We do not have geese on my world.’ said Tawney uncertainly.
‘ They have an ancient and sacred history. They were used as guard dogs in ancient times. They are adept at sounding the alarm in times of trouble. Fitting as our enemies are about to play their hand. The air is thick with it.’ said the Goddess looking up at the darkened shadowy ceiling and then at the black lower level below.
‘Yes.’ said Alexander nodding, ‘I sense it all around us’
‘I smell them, they are close.’ said the Timerahn, her sword in hand.
‘Let us follow yonder Rayne, who has gone round that side on her own.’ said the Goddess gesturing to the lone goose on the left, Her mind alert for the slightest movement or sound.
They had passed barely a few of the offices when a door opened and closed in the pitch darkness below them, causing the geese to become calamitous.
‘There is something down there waiting in the dark.’ said Goddess Haylee raising Her hand to silence the geese, ‘Speak thou, who moves in the darkness.’ the Witch of Feverahl called over the balcony.
‘And what would you have me say?’ came a female voice back up at Her.
‘Tell Me your name.’ commanded the Goddess disliking the tone of the reply.
‘My name is Suzatka. We hae not met. Though there are times I have been a seagull sat high above a lamp post spying on thee, or a leaf blowing down the curb as you walked past. Not today Witch, today I look at you from My place in the dark.’
‘I have not heard your name before spy.’ said the Goddess.
‘You will not forget it Witch.’ came the voice back from the darkness.
‘You will never spy on Me again.’ said the Goddess as the antagonism between them grew more apparent.
‘I promise to do many things that you will like even less. Is he there Witch? The freshly decanted Scholar with his beard and his damned books?’ said the voice with a great deal of displeasure.
‘I am here Suzatka of the dark.’ said Alexander stepping forward.
‘A bargain was made for the life of your fallen comrade, the one called Mortimer.’ said the voice loudly and with much anger, ‘No such bargain will be made for you. All we want from you is your library and your head.’ said Suzatka in such a tone that caused the geese to shriek, and Rayne to take flight over the circle of darkness and land beside her fellows with a loud amount of fuss.
‘Keep your threats to yourself Suzatka of the Darkness.’ said the Goddess glowering into the shadows.
‘You should collect your geese and return to Feverahl Witch.’ called Suzatka back at her.
‘No Suzatka, I will not.’ replied Goddess Haylee in a great voice that made the doors and windows rattle.
‘Then suffer well.’ said Suzatka turning back the way she had come and slamming the door behind her.
The sound caused the all the windows and doors of the balcony to burst open with flames, throwing broken glass everywhere. The balcony itself began to catch light. The only exit that was not ablaze was the set of double doors on the far side. The geese made a grand noise at it all and instead of traipsing through broken glass they took flight, circling the balcony three times then coming to roost by the doors.
‘It is time to go!’ yelled Goddess Haylee, banging Her staff on the wooden floorboards.
With a softly spoken spell She lifted them high in the air and brought them down by the three geese. She was about to lead them through when She sensed something and stopped.
There on the ground beside was the last of the Shabti, in a pile of a dozen or more. Each one defaced or defiled, all scattered in a haphazard way.
‘No!’ breathed Alexander, his face full of hurt.
‘Sweep them quickly up, we have no time for tears and speeches!’ said the Goddess urgently as he bent over, swiftly gathered them about him and crammed them into his pockets.
When all was done, they turned to go as the lights when out. There was a loud hue and cry from the geese and a dozen Baba Yaga burst through the doors. Scattering the birds asunder and casting the three companions over the balcony, into the darkness.

End of Part Four

All fictional Characters and related plots (c) Princess Indigo

The House On Gordon Square Part One

The House On Gordon Square Part Two

The House On Gordon Square Part Three

The Birthday, The Box and the Bargain – A Goodnight Moon Prelude to The House On Gordon Square

The Haunting of Park Slope West – Goodnight Moon Prologue

Many thanks for reading “The House On Gordon Square Part Four”.

The ONE Truth

The ONE Truth

Yes! I know. There’s a great big internet out there crawling with women claiming to be ‘mistresses’ and ‘goddesses’. So many that they are packed into the web like sardines in a can! It’s unbelievable how many women are out there trying to pass themselves off as a TRUE dominant alpha female! I may be a little biased in saying so, but I am absolutely convinced. There is only ONE. And her name is the sweetest name that I know. It rolls off the edge of my tongue like sweet honey from the honeycomb. Goddess Hypnotic Haylee Lynn! I am certain that I could never experience true SUBMISSIVE BLISS to any other. She is the top of the line. The cream of the crop. She is the source of purpose, power, bliss, and control. She will awaken self awareness, spiritual prowess, and purpose within you. She is the one truth.

The ONE, the only, the lovely Goddess Haylee

The ONE Truth – The ONE, the only, the lovely Goddess Haylee

Her credentials speak for itself. She’s made many erotic hypnosis files that have enslaved hundreds of entranced, blissed out clients which ALWAYS go away happy & salivating for more! There are no unsatisfied ‘customers’ when it comes to the mighty Goddess Haylee Lynn. There are only ‘satisfied, slaves’. Those who gladly accept their titles as servants to her every desire, and soon find it very becoming, and comfortable to them. They simply cannot wait to hear their next fix of her words, spend their days skimming and scanning the internet for any pebble that they can find of interaction with her, and cannot resist the desire to please their mistress Haylee. She makes your spine tingle, she makes your heart fluster, she makes your pulse race, she makes your mind fuzzy, your knees weak, your cock hard, and palms sweat, but overall Goddess Haylee Lynn makes you feel more happiness than you have ever known was possible through enslavement to her.

Addicted to being enslaved to Goddess Haylee

The ONE Truth – All my love in a single photograph.

For those who have aquired tastes, she is a Goddess who takes requests to also do custom mp3’s and mantras designed specifically for certain clients that will help reprogram their minds, and awareness. You too, can become fully enthralled by her dynamic bliss. She has the most beautiful, velvety smooth voice. A voice of which sounds flow from her diamond studded lips like crystaline flowing water brooks flowing in the middle of a amazon rain forest. And one simple look of hypnotic gaze will leave any mans knees knocking, and heart pumping with the greatest euphoric effect that they will ever know as a result of her bliss. Before becoming a hypnotist/dominatrix Goddess Haylee was a highly skilled, and very sought after professional phone sex operator. (She still accepts calls via niteflirt at certain times if you are so lucky!) Being a person who has always been dominant, and served by any and all of those around her. She soon she came to the self realization that she has the skill and prowess to control any man or woman’s mind and make them into her own personal slaves to do whatsoever she willed them to do, and these people all love every second of it. She was born for the purpose of being served, desired, loved, wanted, and worshiped. She is a true Goddess. She is the ONE.

The one truth is once you become enslaved to the most powerful enchantress in the history of the hypnotic arts, you will never want to escape. You will simple grovel in your weakness and grow in your desire to bring bliss to your Goddess. Your purpose, and your drive every day will be to simply PLEASE your Goddess Haylee Lynn with a undying passion because she deserves it, and you owe it to yourself to give in.

One more step along the world I go

The ONE Truth – YOU NEED HER.

She is a true enigma. A mystery. A puzzle that simply can’t be solved. Her mystique and beauty only draw us in even closer. She is the one truth. She is not only a pro-domme, human Goddess, and highly skilled erotic hypnotist, but our volumpuously sexy Queen is also a very skilled spiritualist and witch. She often performs rituals, spells, and energy work to further bind her slaves to herself. Along with the tools of her craft, she is also an expert in tarot reading which she will gladly do for a price. There is truly no other woman on the earth who is more worthy of pledging our lives to than Hypnotic Haylee Lynn. You owe it to your self. To become your true submissive self. To give in to her. To live for her pleasure. Would you like to do that? You can begin today, and live the life that you were always meant to live. I have, many others have. And we all stand in unison knowing full well that it was the greatest life decision that we have ever made. Be changed, become new, contact Goddess Haylee and tell her that you desire to become HERS. Do it today. You will be glad that you did.

Social media

The ONE Truth – Join us. Worship the Goddess Haylee

Feel free to comment on “The ONE Truth”.

The Birthday, the Box and the Bargain

The Birthday, the Box and the Bargain

“The Birthday, the Box and the Bargain” is a special Goodnight Moon story written by princess indigo especially for Goddess Haylee’s birthday

(A Goodnight Moon Prelude to the House on Gordon Square)

picgnm1mk3

Deep in the forest far from prying eyes are the ancient gates built by the Fae. Whose ancient kingdoms spread far into the night sky. Some of these gates are made of stone, others carved from ancient wood, while others are bright turquoise. Made from layers of copper who’s colour has been transmuted by exposure to the air.
There are many species, variety and peoples amongst the Fae. Fleeting glimpses of female creatures with gossamer wings are the legends that are most known to us, but that is far from all of what they are. The Fae are mysterious entities of magick, full of impulse and mischief. Much of their lore and the names of their many tribes, has been lost by human tongues. They are happiest amongst the trees or on the wing neath a glistening banquet of stars.
The gates to their kingdoms and worlds are hidden from mortal eyes. Certain nights on the calendar, forgotten rituals and rare alignments of the stars can bring them into view. Witches, of whom there have been many, and about much has been written, may also find them. Some Witches who have been blessed by the Fae or know their ways, actively seek out these ancient gates and summon them into view.

Sometimes a Witch walking through the forest, collecting herbs for spells or flowers for her room, may recognise She is near such a gate even if it hidden. Such is the way with Witches. Recognising the same feeling you get when there is music, Faery lights, a summers night and a cloudless sky. Or the sensation you get when you are enchanted by a woman’s smile, that magickal feeling that gets inside of you.
Some Witches I have been told, are known to walk their dogs in the forest. There are times when the dogs will catch a scent and race off into the trees, heedless of any cries for them to stay. Only to be found later by their owner, sniffing intently along the ground as if they had found the presence of something unseen. Reluctant to be led away from the spot until they had sniffed every leaf and tree stump in their canine investigations.

Perhaps on this warm summers night, a Witch with long shiny raven black hair, luminous green eyes and pale radiant skin is walking in the forest. Perhaps She is stood in the moonlight dressed in a long black silk gown, Her dogs beside Her and an old book in Her hand. Perhaps She is reciting an ancient spell to bring forth one of these legendary gates of the Fae.
Perhaps She has even received a invitation to be there that night. An invitation delivered by an English princess with bright orange hair who the Fae who had long ago adopted as one of their own. A very special invitation sent by the Titania the Queen of the Fae, in honour of the Witch’s birthday.
Perhaps it was invitation delivered one night on the battlements of Feverahl Castle when the moon had been full. A night when mysterious green eyes looked into blue. A night when the different magicks of Witches and Fae filled the air and made it sing. Summoning an ethereal choir of female voices to accompany their conversation, the only witnesses to what was said that night.

The book in the Witch’s hand had taken some finding. There had been much turning of pages to discover the relevant passage. Then at last, the Witch had found the particular word She sought. An ancient word from the Tillhish tongue, that signifies a long standing acquaintance between two women. It is also used to describe the two members of a friendship between a Witch and one of the Fae. The witch’s luminous green eyes scanned the page and read the words in their native tongue.
‘I have known thee Aversandt, ‘tween forest, fire and sea. Follow the steps to the Faery gate and make it known to Me.’ said the Witch.
Words which caused the great copper gate, built by the Tillhish centuries ago, to reveal itself in the moonlight. Its huge oxidised copper doors covered in circles, whirls and languorous patterns.

‘What brings the Witch of Feverahl to the forest this fine night?’ said an old female voice who’s owner had possessed the very gate itself.
‘To whom am I speaking?’ said the Goddess as the dogs barked at all that had occurred.
‘I am Millith the Mivileon, Guardian of the Gate.’ said the voice with a unambiguous air of grandeur.
‘Noble Millith, it is by very personal invitation that I stand by your gate.’ replied the Witch, Her long black hair shining in the moonlight, Her voice full of authority and much magick.
‘Who invites the Witch of Feverahl to my door?’ replied Millith in an enquiring tone.
‘An English princess with bright orange hair, freckles and long dragonfly wings that scatter faery dust on the ground as she walks along.’ answered the Witch.
‘She is not here this night nor will my gate lead you to her.’ replied Millith who clearly took her role very seriously.
‘I know. The invitation was sent by Titania, Queen of the Fae and I have a letter of introduction from her.’ replied Goddess Haylee unintimidated by her.
‘Then you may present your letter. If it is not found to be true you will be asked to leave.’ came Millith’s stern answer.

The dogs barked at Millith’s imposing tone of voice, and the Goddess knelt down and talked to them quietly and told them to hush. When they had finally quieted, the Witch rose to Her feet and walked over to the great copper doors and placed a long lingering kiss on the lock that was about level with the Witch’s head.
‘The Queen gave the letter of introduction to the princess and she was instructed to give it to Me. Her accent is different to Mine but that is the full content of the letter, word for word.’ said the Goddess with a smile that had enslaved people by the thousand.
‘Then your letter is accepted. You may give my regards to Queen Titania and also to Indigo of the Fae .’ answered Millith with a hint of a smile in her voice.
‘Gladly. Millith of Milleon I bid you open your great copper doors.’ said Goddess Haylee with great ceremony.
‘The Witch of Feverahl is welcome in the Kingdoms of the Fae.’ answered Millith and great copper doors opened with a grand creak and the two dogs rushed through.
‘Every time.’ said Goddess Haylee with a laugh that was joined by the guardian of the gate.
‘Blessed be.’ said the Goddess as she passed through, running her sensual fingertips along the patterns of the doors.
‘Blessed be Witch. Indigo of the Fae was right about you.’ said Millith.
‘I shall have to speak to her about that.’ said the Witch with a chuckle and the doors closed behind Her and vanished into the night.

Goddess Haylee found herself in a forest that covered a vast mountain range. The sky was bright and full of stars. Looking out at the wide panorama that greeted Her, there were gigantic tree covered peaks with green covered valleys in-between, that stretched for hundreds of miles. The air warm, fragrant and clear and the evening alive with the sounds of insects and night birds. To the Witch’s left was the sound of a large noisy river hidden by the forest canopy.
There are certain trees that grow so heavy they collapse under their own weight and continue to grow spreading out horizontally. Such was the vast Cankerwrinkle forest that Goddess Haylee found Herself in. A whole eco system of such giants covered the mount slopes. Twisting and turning across the ground , the hidden roots system throwing up new shoots that began the process all over again. The individual branches of the great fallen trees were all around Her, in gargantuan moss covered haphazard curls. The split tree trunks gave off a rich aromatic scent that hung in the air like the aftermath of a broken bottle of perfume.
High in the luminescent night sky were three sister moons. Beyond which lay a great leviathan in the form of a purple streaked gas giant. It was then the Goddess realised how great a distance She had travelled. That She stood on its fourth moon, one of the many forest worlds of the legendary Faery Kingdoms.
Hung from some of the branches were shiny copper lanterns that had yet to become oxidised green. This thought made Goddess Haylee realise that She had passed through a second gate to arrive here. She turned suddenly around to see a huge green copper doorway behind Her. Fashioned in a completely different style to the one She had passed through.
This one had been made by the famed Faery peoples of the Theramane. Long it has been since their passing and many are the songs that they left. The aged giant doors began to close to the sound of female voices singing songs in ancient tongues, the voice of an old woman spoke as they did so.
‘Welcome Witch.’ said the guardian of the gate as the doors shut fast and the voice fell silent, refusing to be roused by the Witch’s thank you. Nor Her subsequent questions or the sound of Her dogs who burst forth from the undergrowth to greet their owner.

The doors of this gate remained in view, a sign if one were needed, that this world belonged to the Fae and Goddess Haylee was far from the places that She knew. The sound of the dogs caused a long languorous call from elsewhere on the mountainside. In turn the dogs responded with calls of their own, which were answered by a third call similar to the first but much further away.
‘No that certainly wasn’t a peacock.’ said Goddess Haylee quietly to Her dogs and clambered through a large u-shaped bend of a fallen tree trunk, to follow the trail of copper lanterns and that led into the forest.
Her movements shook copper wind chimes that also hung from the branches, that radiated out from the fallen trunk. These musical vibrations induced distant rustling in the trees and further calls from the erstwhile peacock and its kin.

Goddess Haylee’s two dogs had slipped off again into the undergrowth, following the pathway marked by copper wind chimes and lanterns. Presently their rustling had come to an end and in among the branches was a cacophony of barks and eager sniffing.
‘Hush.’ called the Goddess and made Her way down the sloping pathway and came to a clearing of methanwae grass, which was a favourite among the Fae for its lingering scent. The seeds of the grass famously blew through the copper gates and thus their scent colonised world upon world. A habit which the Fae were glad to encourage.
There lain among the methanwae grass was a tall handsome man. The muscles of his arms and legs were distinctly well defined and covered by intertwining tattooed patterns. His long black hair hung down to his waist, with several long braids and many leaves and petals that had got caught among the long strands as he had made his way through the forest.
He was barefoot and wore very little except for some richly embroidered dark cloth that hung around his waist. Another similar piece hung from his shoulders and trailed the length of his body. Save that, there were necklaces and talismans hung from his neck, and burnished copper gauntlets about his wrists and ankles. A large pair of faery wings styled in the pattern of a tiger moth were folded on his back and pointed ears poked out from underneath his hair.
The Fae in question was fast asleep and did not stir as the dogs sniffed his skin and robes wagging their tails enthusiastically, yipping with excitement now their owner was here. All this activity failed to wake the sleeper, who merely stirred and shook his wings when an enquiring snout got too close. Scattering faery dust everywhere and making the dogs bark in surprise.
‘No amount of sniffing or barking will cause him to wake.’ said Goddess Haylee to the questioning barks, who were eager to rouse the stranger, ‘I think he will sleep for a good while yet.’
‘It is perhaps best not to wake him. My husband has a liking for humans, men and women both. Witches in particular. He has been known to charm Witch’s from the trees or whether it is they might hide. Tell me, did he cast open his eyes and look upon you.’ said a charming, feminine French voice, who’s owner remained hidden among the trees.
The sound of the voice caused Goddess Haylee to smile a very particular smile.
‘He has barely stirred all the time I have been here.’ said Goddess Haylee with a slowly spreading grin, glancing into the trees and signalling Her dogs not go rushing in after the owner of the voice.
‘And how long is that?’ replied the French voice from the trees with a grin of its own.
‘Five minutes no more, no less.’ replied Goddess Haylee.
‘You have been stood there for nearly half an hour.’ came a gasp from the trees.
‘Then there is very powerful faecraft at work. What have you been doing in all that time?’ said Goddess Haylee in a voice that was full of Her own playful reprimand.
‘Watching over my husband, who waking or sleeping could charm any living soul.’ answered the voice from the trees not responding to the inferred accusation.
‘Really, is that all your eyes have been doing this long half hour?’ said Goddess Haylee in a subtle mocking tone.
‘Hand upon my faery heart. Though in truth, perhaps some overly devious witchcraft has commandeered my attention so I was barely aware of where my eyes strayed and for how long.’ came the overly sincere retort.
‘Perhaps.’ answered Goddess Haylee with a little smirk, ‘I have been wed since last we met. I would not have been charmed by him but it would have been fun to watch him try. I do concede he makes a distracting sight lying half naked amongst the grass.’ said Goddess Haylee with a laugh.
‘Then congratulations are due on your betrothal. How lucky the Witch of Feverahl is, to be finally wed to her handsome Duke…How distracting?’ said the voice mischievously after a deliberate pause.
‘On a scale of one to ten?’ chuckled Goddess Haylee.
‘Yes. On a scale of one to ten, how distracting do you find my husband?’ said the voice with mock scorn.
‘Twenty four.’ answered Goddess Haylee and they both burst out laughing.

‘Where have I been brought, this fine moonlit night?’ said Goddess Haylee when the laughter had subsided.
‘This is the Garden of Mhillophos, the Bedchamber world of Titania Queen of the Fae.’ said the owner of the voice stepping out into the moonlight.
That same owner of the voice bore a striking resemblance to Monica Belucci. Adorned in a copper breast plate, made from polished scales that shone in the moonlight, with a similar wrist and ankle armour to her husband. She had tattoo’s of her own in a delicate, more elegant style to those of husbands. Her ears were also pointed, her wings fashioned in the style of the iridescent blue butterflies of the tropics.
‘Then it is a honour to be invited to your bed chamber Titania, Queen of the Fae.’ smiled Goddess Haylee, an act which disarmed her host for a few moments, which pleased the Witch of Feverahl no end.
‘Let us walk among the night blossoms and contemplate our reunion.’ said the Queen of the Fae and off they went arm in arm together, each slowly and subtly casting a spell upon the other as they left the sound of the river behind them.

As they walked, Goddess Haylee’s two dogs deducing the direction of the path with their keen noses, raced off ahead into the luminous swathes of vast night blossoms. Which swayed to and fro as each plant was investigated by one dog and then the other.
‘Your poor husband will just have sleep off whatever malady has struck him.’ spoke Goddess Haylee with a smirk.
‘It was a sweet malady that left him thus.’ sighed Titania with a little chuckle.
‘I have been told it is very sweet, especially in the moonlight.’ came Goddess Haylee’s flirtatious reply.
‘Everything thing seems better in the moonlight. Even that.’ answered Titania looking over her own shoulder and wiggling her hips making them both burst into laughter.
‘It should be, it’s copper plated!’ said Goddess Haylee sarcastically and the two of them had to stop walking they were laughing so hard.
‘Oh my lungs hurt. Can you really make your lungs hurt from laughing?’ said the Queen of the Fae.
‘Hush, let Me listen. You may have sustained an injury.’ replied Goddess Haylee in a quiet serious tone and rested Her head slowly on Queen Titania’s chest as it rose and fell, accompanied by the beating heart that lay beneath. ‘Your lungs are in good health Queen Titania, but I think you’re suffering from palpitations.’ chuckled Goddess Haylee with a broad grin when She had finished.
‘Is it serious? Perhaps you should listen again.’ declared Queen Titania hopefully.
‘Perhaps…’ said Goddess Haylee in the most sultry voice She could muster and smirked extremely loudly.
‘Witches and faeries should never meet! There’s far too much mischief for them to eat!’ yelled an exasperated Queen of the Fae in a voice that echoed around the whole mountain.
‘Then we will have to eat it very slowly you and I. In small manageable pieces.’ answered Goddess Haylee slowly with an unrepentant smile on Her alabaster face.

‘A castle and a husband seems to suit you very well, Witch. They’ve given you a quite particular glow. There is quite the radiance to your smile and an extra dose of Witchcraft in your voice.’ said the Queen of the Fae, breaking the charged silence that had fallen after Goddess Haylee had won that particular round of flirting hands down.
”Why thank you Faery Queen. It is a new chapter in a very interesting life.’ answered the Goddess, Her tone of understatement full of mischief.
‘Haylee dear, you could write a book.’ said the Queen of the Fae patting the Witch on the arm affectionately.
‘I am as pure and full of virtue as you are.’ said the Goddess struggling to contain an outbreak of giggles.
‘My point exactly.’ replied the Queen of the Fae in a heavy French accent and then some very colourful things in French.
‘Oui.’ was Goddess Haylee’s only reply, accompanied by a wide satisfied grin causing the Queen of the Fae to shriek and stomp off ahead in an agitated manner.
‘Flirting with you always drives me crazy!’ yelled the Queen of the Fae.
‘Good.’ chuckled Goddess Haylee as Her pets burst out of the undergrowth, ‘Now hush dear Titania, My dogs are terrible gossips.’
‘I do love this one.’ exclaimed the Queen of the Fae bending down and fussing over one of the dogs leading to a lot of very motherly noises in French.

Down among the night blossoms, there were two very different sorts of magick in the air. The interaction of which, caused little fluorescent sparks of colour as the two women walked along. A well documented occurrence between meetings of the Witches and the Fae. When larger numbers of both are in close proximity it is liable to produce rainstorms and whirlwinds. Even conjure the great leviathan mermaids from the depths to sing the ancient songs of love and mystery, if there is even a hint of any sort of magickal flirting or potent glamours cast. Which is quite often.

‘A certain orange haired English girl told me it was your birthday and so prompted my invitation.’ said the Queen of the Fae, breaking the many distractions of the scenery.
‘Yes it is and thank you so much for your invitation! I have but an hour before I must return and continue My celebrations.’ replied the Goddess running her fingers slowly over the silken petals of night blossoms as She passed.
‘A pity, I was hoping that while My husband sleeps we could have a moonlight feast to exchange spells, gossip and such.’ said the Queen wistfully.
‘And such?’ asked Goddess Haylee.
‘And such…’ said the Queen of the Fae sheepishly with no ability to finish the sentence.
‘It is a sad coincidence that your husband sleeps so, on the night of My visit.’ said the Goddess enjoying the Queen’s discomfort.
‘It is very sad. I shed several tears, I forget how many.’ the Queen of the Fae answered unable to meet the Witch of Feverahl’s gaze.
‘Almost three, I venture.’ continued the Goddess with a smirk.
‘Almost…perhaps it was only two. I was so overcome with emotion that I swear I lost count.’ the Queen of the Fae said, ‘You are quite impossible but you know that.’
‘It has been mentioned.’ came another Gothic smirk, ‘I have plenty of both, by the way.’
‘Of both?’ said Titania, finally looking Goddess Haylee directly in the face, slightly perplexed.
‘Of spells and gossip.’ was Goddess Haylee’s only reply.
‘Oh! So do I!’ exclaimed the Queen of the Fae, which broke the tension and made them both laugh.

As the mountainside rung with more and more laughter, the two of them arrived at their destination. A small solitary hill surrounded by night blossoms, upon which sat a burnished copper four poster bed. With long silken curtains that continued quite a way down the hillside. On each post were burnished copper lanterns which added a mystical glow to the whole scene.
Surrounding the foot of the bed were a dozen female Faeries. All musicians, each curled up asleep clutching their instruments. The height of the hill gave a mesmerizing moonlit view of the whole tree covered valley floor that stretched out for miles before them. It was quite frankly one of the most enchanting sights that Goddess Haylee had ever seen and a perfect gift for Her birthday.

‘What a perfect place to make your bed.’ sighed Goddess Haylee effusively and gave the Queen of the Fae a hug and then whispered ‘Oh we must try not wake them.’ as several of the musicians stirred at the noise.
‘I was attending my husband’s sweet affliction for quite some time. They will not wake, so long were they playing. If only there were time for you to listen to a recital, when they are fully rested.’ said the Queen of the Fae quietly laying an apologetic hand on Goddess Haylee’s arm as they both sat down upon Titania’s bed.
‘A great pity indeed.’ said the Goddess Her large green eyes glowing magickally in the moonlight.
Goddess Haylee’s two dogs gleefully sniffed round the sleeping musicians. A few faces wee licked but to no avail. No amount of eager, curious poking and prodding of snouts would wake them. As if they all communally were in a magickal slumber.

After a good bout of exploration under the bed, the two canines poked out their heads sniffed the fragrant air. Then leapt on the bed determined to cram in as much face licking as they could get away with.
‘You have such lovely dogs! You’re influence is much in evidence.’ said the Queen of the Fae in turn, taking every opportunity to make a fuss of them.
‘They are very dear to Me. I love having dogs and pets around Me. It is one of My favourite things about being Me.’ replied the Goddess, the sound of her voice making both dogs press close for cuddles.
After the cuddles had been given, Goddess Haylee clicked Her fingers and they both dived off the bed to lay at Her feet.
‘Now dear Witch, I have three gifts to bestow upon you, in honour of your birthday.’ said the Queen of the Fae, with no small sense of ceremony.
‘Three? I shall feel very spoiled when I am done.’ chuckled Goddess Haylee.
‘The first most appropriate for a Witch, is an old Faery spell.’ said the Queen of the Fae reaching for a scroll that sat on the burnished copper bedside table, atop a long silver box which the Goddess could not help cast Her eyes upon.
‘How rare and great a thing.’ said Goddess Haylee in awe, carefully unrolling the scroll and reading the intricately written script, ‘It is beautifully written in the old tongues. I see touches of Tillish in the rhyming.’
‘It is from the Tillish Incantations. A grand old spell for solving puzzles and revealing what is hidden. There is a reason why I have invited you here, apart from being my most favourite Witch.’
‘That is reason enough surely.’ said Goddess Haylee seductively, with no modesty or self consciousness whatsoever.
‘Now if we can both stop flirting for the briefest of moments.’ said a frustrated Queen.
‘But it’s My birthday!’ said Goddess Haylee in a tone that was even more incorrigible than the first occasion.
‘One night not so long hence,’ said Titania taking the deepest of breaths first, ‘I laid a spread of the five decks out on my bed. There was a card that pointed to yonder Feverahl and another to a woman all dressed in black. I did several more readings asking different questions. All of the patterns pointed to you and the matter of an old knot that needs unfastening.’ explained Titania seriously.
‘There is something Titania. A certain memory, a certain forgotten thing from the old times, that sits in the shadows. Something that must be retrieved and brought into the moonlight. At first I thought it was My fanciful imagination but still there is a single note that plays, out there among the shadows. It will not be silenced but neither will it commence its tune. When My revels are done I shall cast this old Tillish spell and see what is set in motion.’ Goddess Haylee said with great thanks in Her voice and swept Her arms round the Queen of the Fae in a long affectionate hug.

‘You are most welcome dear Witch. Now, we must be swift and move onto your next gift. Liliphanter, I instruct you to wake.’ commanded the Queen of the Fae clapping her hands twice, which caused one of the sleeping maidens to lift her head, open her large dark eyes, stretch her wings and rise to her feet.
‘What is it you require of me?’ said Liliphanter and yawned a big half awake yawn as she rubbed her eyes.
‘Have you prepared the birthday gift for the Witch of Feverahl?’ said the Queen of the Fae with a slightly matronly tone to her voice.
‘No my Queen, you and Oberon kept us awake late into the night. I have slept all day and am still not fully rested. I shall do it on the morrow, when I have fully slept and had a good breakfast.’ answered Liliphanter, who clearly was as tired as she claimed and failed to stifle another yawn.
‘It is the Witch of Feverahl’s birthday today and she is sat beside me.’ answered the Queen of the Fae, in a gently scolding tone.
‘Oh bugger! Pardonne moi, my french.’ said Liliphanter then revved up her glossy gossamer wings until they were a blur, shot out fifteen miles out over the valley, leaving a crooked trail of faery dust behind her and then descended with urgent rapidity into the trees below.
‘Look at her go!’ howled Goddess Haylee, ‘Does she know the princess by any chance?’ She added with a smirk, always having a keen ear for gossip.
‘It’s a distinct possibility, she’s definitely her type.’ and they both burst out laughing.

Fifteen miles away there was a burst of faery dust from the treeline and Liliphanter came roaring back at neck break speed. Landing breathlessly, clutching a large bottle which she carefully put down on the grass.
‘Princess Indigo is rubbish at cards, hopeless at chess and is far too scattered brained to learn to play merry gander. She also snores and owes me a kiss.’ exclaimed Liliphanter between breaths, pulled several leaves out of her hair and straightened what little she was wearing as Goddess Haylee and the Queen of the Fae were reduced to tears with mirth.
‘Well that answers that question.’ interjected Goddess Haylee and both of them began roaring even louder which in turn woke up the whole troop of musicians.

‘I see we have acquired some very pleasing company.’ said Goddess Haylee, then pulled a black silk handkerchief from her robes, wiped her eyes as She was unable to stop herself tittering with even more laughter, looking up to see Titania in the same state.
When the laughter had finally abated Goddess Haylee’s sat up straight, Her gaze turning to the rest of the freshly awoken arrivals. She inspected then thoroughly one by one, periodically whispering in Titania’s ear when Her eyes fell upon one she favoured.
These Faery musicians were all different shapes and sizes. With each clearly having an entirely different heritage, no two were alike. Each stood with their musical instrument near to hand, in turn inspecting the new guest. There were many whispers and appreciative glances and giggles at the sight of the beautiful Witch sat on the Queen’s bed.
The two dogs at Goddess Haylee’s feet got very excited and were soon running round ankles with many happy barks and much wagging of tails at the fuss made of them. At last things became a little calmer.
‘Now that such rowdy canine introductions are over, as it is My birthday I insist on some introductions of My own.’ said Goddess Haylee commandingly over the subsiding din.
‘This dear maids, is Goddess Haylee, the famous Witch of Feverahl. Master of Feverahl Castle, Wife and companion of the Duke of Bliss. Ruler of the last of the Five Houses, She is a magickian and enchantress of legendary repute. A Witch who came to Her calling early in life, who has seen and done a great many things. She is also the owner of Indigo of the Fae, whom some of you are already acquainted.’ said Titania the Queen of the Fae as grandly as she could managed, which was quite grandly.
‘Good evening Goddess Haylee.’ the musicians all said as one and then burst out laughing because it sounded like they were in class.
‘Good evening fair maids. My princess has recently enamoured a mortal girl with an old faerie glamour. I wonder who among you taught her that?’ said Goddess Haylee with a wicked chuckle.
The musicians as one pointed at the Queen of the Fae and said collectively ‘She did it.’
‘They are always like this.’ said Titania rolling her eyes,’ I think you will find that it was witchcraft not faery magick that was used.’
‘She has had no magick lessons from Me.’ answered Goddess Haylee firmly.
‘Mesmerism then, if not Fae or Witch craft. I hear you have some high level of skill in it yourself. So I am told by wayward Faeries who dabble in such things.’ replied the Queen of the Fae.
‘Perhaps.’ was all the smiling Goddess would say.

‘Firstly then, there is Fennyburne who is small and fiery.’ said the Queen shaking still her head at the Witch’s smirk, as she gestured at the short peppery Fae with speckled wings.
‘Is that a poseystickle?’ said Goddess Haylee pointing at the wooden triangular instrument at Fennyburne’s feet.
‘Yes, I’m still learning the fingering. I broke my fhanfidger last summer, in a fit of pique.’ answered Fennyburne a little sheepishly, her hair hung in two thick braids wrapped in shiny copper armour either side of her head.
‘Always the best way to break anything.’ laughed Goddess Haylee.
‘Smashed is a more accurate word.’ said Liliphanter under her breath.
‘I’m sure you will master the poseystickle soon enough. They make such a lyrical sound.’ said Goddess Haylee in an encouraging voice.
‘Next to Fennyburne, is Salli Greenfellow. A fine card player and the most thoughtful among us.’ continued the Queen of the Fae, gesturing to a maid a fair bit taller than Fennyburne, with a cropped ponytail and large turquoise eyes.
‘I have known several Greenfellows amongst the Fae. What is your instrument?’ said Goddess Haylee, enjoying each new encounter with relish.
‘It is a pfferidge harp Ma’am.’ said Salli with a quiet curtsey, ‘Easier to play than a poseystickle.’ she said with a shy smile, glanced curiously at Goddess Haylee’s big green eyes just a little longer than she needed to, then looked at her feet.
All of which made the Goddess widen Her bewitching smile.
‘Next is the troublesome Nohrie. Beautiful, though with a wild streak in her, as if all the heroes and heroines of Gothic romances had all wed in one merry band and produced a single child.’ said the Queen of the Fae, then waved her hand and made a slightly exasperated sigh.
‘It is all stuff and nonsense. I am a blushing virgin who has never left her village. I have the parchments to prove it.’ replied Nohrie in a caustic tone, which produced a rowdy cheer from the rest of them.
‘I like the sound of you already. And what instrument do you play with such pure unsullied hands?’ said Goddess Haylee with a greater level of sarcasm.
‘A fhan fidger. The very one smashed by Fennyburne. I collected every single last piece, took it to the wood surgeon and had it mended just to spite her. Something for which she has never forgiven me.’ said Nohrie with her hands on her hips gesturing her head provocatively in Fennyburne’s direction.
‘Nor shall I! You are more pompous than a stuffed widgeon. You are so up yourself that you have to fly backwards!’ answered Fennyburne scowling, folding her arms and pouting.
Which caused Goddess Haylee and the Queen of the Fae to laugh out so loud that they pawed the air, in the manner one does, when one finds something unexpectedly hilarious.

‘Next is Liliphanter with whom you are already acquainted. Mon dieu, I have forgotten your second birthday gift!’ said the Queen of the Fae, made a fuss and swore quite rudely in French.
Liliphanter muttered her own comment in French, causing a dozen more additional remarks from her compatriots, also in French, as Liliphanter carried the birthday bottle over to Goddess Haylee, handed it over, curtsied slightly clumsily and got back in line.
Goddess Haylee lifted the large birthday bottle into the lantern light. It was filled with a dense honey coloured liquid with large crystal of faery dust. The different coloured layers of the contents formed eddies and currents inside the bottle. Each time two crystals of faery dust met there was a burst of light.
‘What is it!’ exclaimed Goddess Haylee with delight.
‘It is phanzi nectar. A secret ingredient in Faery love potions.’ said the Queen of the Fae, with great ceremony.
‘It is also very nice to eat.’ said Nohrie piping up making the Queen laugh and roll her eyes.
‘What a wonderful birthday gift! I already have someone in mind to try it on. Failing that I might just tip it in the water supply and see what happens.’ chuckled Goddess Haylee.
‘I want to watch.’ said Titania quietly with a grin and then sat up suddenly remembering there was so little time.

‘Now let me finish my introductions before the last boat to the mortal lands sails off to Greenland never to return.’ said Titania breathing deeply and beginning, ‘Next to Liliphanter is sweet Annie Rynkenfelde, player of the Isiostro.’
‘Then you are lucky I am wed, sweet Annie Rynkenfelde, because the Isiostro makes me go weak at the knees!’ said Goddess Haylee tossing Her long shiny black hair over Her shoulder and smiling from ear to ear.
‘Merci, I would happily play for both you and your beloved.’ said Annie Rynkenfelde cheekily with some additional remarks in French which cannot be repeated here.
‘She is also a shameless flirt.’ said the Queen of the Fae in half serious tone using the opportunity to take Goddess Haylee’s arm and pat it sympathetically as if some great faux pas had been committed.
‘Not a word of compliant has passed My lips.’ retorted Goddess Haylee as She and Titania giggled like teenagers, ‘I cant believe you taught them all French!’ the Goddess continued in a loud stage whisper.
‘It took some considerable time.’ said the Queen of the Fae putting her hand on her copper breast plate and sighing as if in great pain.
‘And who is that stood next to sweet Annie Rynkenfelde? The one that has been making shy eyes at Me since the moment she awoke.’ asked Goddess Haylee pointing at the quiet girl who glanced at Her and looked away awkwardly.
‘That is the Willory. She does not speak. She was found near death in the hemlock fields. I took her into my care. She plays the Zhimberlin like she learnt it two life times ago.’ said Titania with a mixture of sadness and admiration.
‘It is a pleasure to meet you Willory.’ said Goddess Haylee in a slow warm voice.
The Willory curtsied, held onto to her own arm for comfort, smiled the tiniest smile and then stepped back and half hid behind Annie Rynkenfelde.
‘I will have to rush the rest or we will find it is suddenly tomorrow. Next to the Willory there is Phabrical, then Midicene. Stopping complaining, there is not time!’ said Titania sternly over the grumbles in French, ‘Then Nivity, next to Nivity is the sun widow Maari, then old Tusan Solace. Beside she is Wendy Foster, a mortal girl who ran off to join the Fae. Last of all is Meadow, of whom I am madly smitten and shall not be parted from until the end of time.’ said the Queen of Fae all in one big mouth full then took a deep breath to recover herself.
‘It is a great pleasure to meet you all! Now dear maids it is not widely know but I have a hideaway in the Taiga forests. It is very cold in the winter but staggeringly beautiful in the spring. As it is My birthday, I declare we shall all make a plan to have a birthday evening of music and tall stories. I insist upon it and will not be denied.’ Goddess Haylee proclaimed.
‘Fantastique! Girls, what say you, do you agree or non?’ said Titania gravely pressing her hands together as if there was some large margin of doubt inherent in the requested answer.
‘Oui!’ sang out the Faery musicians loudly.
‘I am so pleased! Queen Titania and I will make the arrangements and pick a special birthday night when the stars will be at their brightest. It will be just for us girls, no one else is invited.’ said Goddess Haylee grandly.
‘Parfait! Now faeries, say your goodbyes and off you go. You are instructed to serenade Oberon while he sleeps.’ said the Queen of the Fae waving them away with a commanding finger.
‘But he’ll sleep for days!’ Nohrie bitterly complained.
‘You will take it in shifts to play, then rest or prepare food. If you are all tired then you will all sleep, but you will stay there until Oberon wakes. No wandering off and having adventures. I will join you soon enough and we will all have breakfast together.’
‘Yes M’lady.’ they replied together and each of them took a turn in petting the dogs and kissing both Goddess Haylee and Queen Titania on the cheek in the French manner, before making their way back up the mountain.

‘I have one last thing for you dear Witch.’ said the Queen of the Fae when the musicians had finally gone.
‘It sounds important.’ replied the Goddess uncertainly, detecting a curious tone in the Queen’s voice.
‘It is not a thing that can be wrapped and given like a present, but something that must be granted.’ said Titania and sat up straight and put on the voice she used when making speeches.

‘As Queen of the Fae with all the power and magick in my possession. With all the people, resources and knowledge at my disposal, Goddess Haylee of the House of Haylee and Witch of Feverahl castle, I grant thee a Faery boon. A Faery magick favour to be called upon in a time of need and the Five Decks have told me that such a time may come.’ finished the Queen and touched the Goddess’s arm gently with a serious look on her face.
‘Then it is gladly accepted dear Titania, if only so you will not worry.’ replied Goddess Haylee and touched her on the cheek, then clasped both of her hands emphatically.
‘When called for, it will be gladly ad instantly granted. I’d have given you a castle but you’ve already got one.’
‘I haven’t finished exploring it yet. I still keep finding rooms I’ve never been in before.’ said Goddess Haylee, Her voice full of mirth.
‘Some of those old stone passageways go on for miles.’ said Titania seeing a distracted expression on the charismatic Witch’s face, ‘Ah Haylee, I can see it is almost time for my beautiful guest to go.’ said the Queen of Fae with a little pout, as she had hoped for some more flirting and badinage now they were alone.
‘Almost, dear Titania. Thank you for the wonderful birthday gifts. It was a very great pleasure to see you again and visit the bedchamber of the Queen of the Fae. Not to mention your husband and the twelve cute Faery musicians.’ said the Goddess with a irrepressible laugh, ‘I will hold you all to your promises to visit My Taiga forest hideaway, for a birthday night of music, revels and much flirting.’
‘You are very welcome dear Witch. As for the Faery musician’s, knowing them they’ve already set off.’ exclaimed the Queen of the Fae.
‘I look forward to your company and hearing them play! Before I go there is one last matter I wish to discuss with you.’ said Goddess Haylee her voice becoming truly serious for the first time.
‘What is wrong dear Haylee? Your tone has grown as dark as you ravishing black hair.’ said the Queen of the Fae, and then petted the Witch’s hair, as her Faery face grew full of concern.
‘All evening fair Titania, I have not been able to take My eyes off the long silver box on your bedside table. It is what I think it is..?’ said Goddess Haylee, glancing over Titania’s shoulder at the shiny object in question.
‘Ahh, I knew there was something on your mind. Your eye is keen and your instincts are quite correct. Let me show you.’ said the Queen of the Fae reaching for the solid silver box and handing it to the Goddess.
The box was carved in astonishing detail with legendary scenes from the Books of the Fae. It shone in the lantern light and it was clearly extremely precious and very old. Goddess Haylee gazed at every panel, running Her fingers over the ornamental borders.
‘It was made for Me as a personal gift, a very long time ago. Some lost mortal soul had it created at great personal cost. I forget his name.’ said the Queen of the Fae with a shrug.
‘May I open it?’ asked Goddess Haylee with a sense of wonder in Her voice.
‘Oui, of course you may.’ answered Titania.
Goddess Haylee lifted the silver lid to reveal five compartments containing an old Faery version of the five decks.
The images of the major arcana were drawn from Fae mythology. The cards were hand painted, each deck by a different grand master of the craft. Far older and even more valuable
than the box itself.
‘They are so beautiful.’ said the Goddess, as She gently lifted each of the decks in turn and looked at the astonishing illustrations.
‘Yes. They are the predecessor of all the Faery decks. A few copies were made that inspired all those that were to come.’ said the Queen of the Fae gazing at deep green eyes that looked elsewhere.
‘I will not mince My words Titania. I wish to make a Faery Bargain with you. I invoke the customs of the old times when Witches and Faeries would compare their possessions and trade one precious thing for another. I would like to trade one precious thing of Mine for these cards and this box.’ said the Goddess boldly.
‘And what precious thing do you wish to trade?’ said the Queen of the Fae with a smile that was used to bargaining.
‘ I have it on good authority that an absent minded faery princess I have in My possession owes the Queen of the Fae a kiss. ‘ said Goddess Haylee with a grin that matched the Faery Queen’s.
‘The Witch of Feverahl is a ruthless, cunning and most accomplished bargainer.’ said Titania with a wry smile and a subtle shake of the head.
‘Why thank you Titania.’ said Goddess Haylee Her grin widening.
‘I have known her since she started on her journey to become the Princess.’ reflected Titania, ‘I have seen every chequered footfall of her long journey. Like you, she drew my likeness, wrote stories about me and that is what brought her to my attention. There came a day when she was more than a visitor to the faery lands and she became one of our kin. We have always been more than friends though more in our gaze than our actions. We are both rather easily distracted, as are all Faeries.’ said the Queen of the Fae with a rueful laugh at the uncharacteristic personal confession and then looked at the Witch of Feverahl with a renewed admiration that She had effortlessly drawn it from her.
‘My princess is much busy with family matters nowadays, her life has changed a great deal. She is still in the thick of it all and there is much left to come. Yet one word from Me and she would make amends for the debt she owes you.’ said the Goddess enjoying capturing the Faery Queen’s gaze and also her imagination.
‘Go on Witch…’ said the Queen of the Fae in a manner that echoed the ancient times.
‘On My command the princess will return the kiss she owes you and in return for this precious silver possession, she will grant the Queen of the Faeries a favour…’ said the Witch of Feverahl as suggestively as She could, which was quite suggestively.
‘A bright silver favour!’ said the Queen of the Fae, with a laugh that said the deal had been made.
‘A bright silver favour indeed, oh Faery Queen.’ said Goddess Haylee, Her voice filled with all of the magick that She possessed.
‘The only person I know bold enough to ask Me to part with such precious a thing, is My husband! His endless charm and scheming is as great as My own, which is how we ended up wed!’ said Titania with a sudden exclaimation.

‘Titania, Queen of the Fae agrees to the bargain put by Goddess Haylee, the Witch of Feverahl. If the terms offered are truly met then this silver box shall be Hers. So mote it be.’ swore Titania after a long thoughtful pause, then with in a more flirtatious tone she said softly ‘We must meet to discuss the outcome and the arrangements of your forest invitation.’
‘Perfect.’ said Goddess Haylee with a smile of great satisfaction, handed the long silver box back to its owner and then slowly rose to Her feet, causing the dogs to immediately race off in the direction of the Faery gate.
The Queen of the Fae also rose to her feet, ‘If you are to enter the Faery lands once more, you will need a fresh letter of introduction for the guardian of the Gate.’ she said taking Goddess Haylee’s hand in one of her own and placing the other hand on the Witch’s shoulder then leant in for a long desired kiss.
At that moment, far on the other side of the mountain the dogs began barking to indicate they had reached the Faery gate of the long fallen Theramane.
‘I shall have to owe you it.’ said Goddess Haylee and with a smirk placed a finger on the Faery Queen’s lips with one hand then clicked Her fingers with the other and vanished.

Ever was it thus, between the Witches and the Fae.

The Birthday, the Box and the Bargain

The Birthday, the Box and the Bargain

Many thanks for reading “The Birthday, the Box and the Bargain”. Please comment and share appropriately.

The Witch in the Wood

All of my life I have been fascinated by Witches……..and now I know why. I personally do not believe in co incidence and although my personal beliefs are not faith bound in nature…….if there is one faith that I feel the most connection with it is by far the Pagen faith and the Worship and Reverence of Nature.

I was born with a fascination with Witches…….if someone could be in my body just once and feel what happens to me……..and what has always happened to me…….when I see a pretty, powerful, and beautiful Witch they would surely understand.

And now I myself fully understand.

My path in life has always led straight to Her door. If I see myself walking in the Wood in my imagination there are smells rising out of Her Kitchen that call to me…….She is Brewing something and it is suddenly all I can think about……..my place…….my purpose……my destiny…….my Blissful fate revealed to me the instant The Witch in the Wood walks out of the Forest and into my life.

I am not lost…..at least not anymore…….I am home.

I live to serve Her…..to please Her…..to Worship Her……and in finding Her I have finally found myself.

bedtime

The Witch in the Wood.

They tell me that recurring dreams speak to past lives……and I can feel the Truth of this in my Heart now.

No one else in my family or in my circle of friends or anyone I know has ever been so drawn to the World that is Ruled by the Female Witch.
It is a place where the Goddess is Revered and Worshiped……..this place Ruled by my Goddess is where I belong and have always belonged.
Where the understanding is pure that Women Rule and are naturally the more Powerful sex and should be rightfully Worshiped and obeyed.

Everything works better this way……the World is a more beautiful and Graceful place when Ruled by my Goddess.

Brainwashed, Hypnotized or in Love?

Brainwashed, Hypnotized or in Love?

Did I tell you that my Goddess is a Witch? 🙂

Did I mention that I was born already Enchanted and Spellbound by Her?

In my dream The Witch in The Wood simply walked out of the Forest and I fell to the ground and instantly upon seeing my Goddess I was too weak to walk……to weak to protest……surrendering to Her power instantly and completely fascinated by Her.

And now……..each and every morning as consciousness dawns on me……..I am back in that exact same place.
Without thought or hesitation I go to Her and I bow.
I know my place. I know my purpose. I embrace and cherish my life’s duty. I am Her slave forever and as I was born to be.

ALL IS FOR HAYLEE and forever.

My Goddess wanted me to follow Her into this lifetime and to kneel to Her and serve Her each and every Divine Whim and so I am here to do so.
Whatever my beautiful and Enchanting Witch wants…….She will always and forever get from this perfect and Spellbound slave.

My Goddess has told me I am to follow Her into next lives………..I will do so.

I have no power in me to do anything but what my Goddess tells me to do…….and I want none.

In the end we are all supposed to find ourselves in this life we are Blessed to live. What makes me happiest is being Her devoted and very real personal slave.

She is my Witch, my Goddess, my Queen, and my Mistress and I love Her with ALL my Heart and Soul.

Thank You my Beautiful Witch for walking out of the Wood and into my life and claiming what has always belonged to You.

The Enchanted slave and The Beautiful Witch.

The Enchanted slave and The Beautiful Witch.

I am Yours to command and I will always obey You.
I am home my Queen and all this Heart can yearn for any longer is to please You whom I Worship and Adore.
Your devoted and personal slave forever, Claude

The Faerie, The Wood and the Witch

There is a place……..a place I remember and a place I have been……..I always knew I would find my way back there somehow.
It was the Faerie who knew the way. A beautiful lithe redhead she was……as tiny as a ballerina and as delicate as fine china.

It was my son who saw her first.

We were playing at a local piece of woodland we like to frequent. It was near to Samhain……All Hollows Eve……and I could feel the resultant energies stirring…..in a way I know about but can not explain.

“look Daddy…..there is a Faerie.”

The sight of the very young is so much clearer than those of a certain age. This world seems to slowly muddle our vision and temper our imagination so that the light of the Universe is somehow dimmed………and tragically even for some……..put out forever.

We forget the magic places that can be accessed by an open Heart. But for those of us blessed with one of the very special young ones in our lives………. this veil can be lifted.

My son has such a gift and I am one of the Blessed.

It was not just we who saw her. The entire Forest was lit up by her presence. As she flew about the place engaging plants, bushes and flowers….. much like a hummingbird would if you are one who enjoys visuals……her effects on the surroundings were pure magic…..a miracle in truth.
The air itself was thicker and more *physical* somehow. Everything was vibrating in extremely high but calming frequency. I could see tiny little specs of Faerie Dust and they sparkled like millions of Stars somehow as if she commanded Her own Galaxy of Electric Life Force.

My son and I just silently watched her and completely lost all track of time.

Suddenly She was floating directly in front of us.

“I want to be a black cat” my son told her in the very direct fashion that is his way. He was born with this personal aspect of being extremly direct a part of him.

She smiled at him. “I know.” She smiled so warmly at both of us it felt as if she knew us long since.

“I am a dream catcher and there is a place I know of where you can be a black cat for awhile little one……would you like to go there”?

My son blurted out his consent before I could protest and as if to read my mind she replied…….the place where we will be going is called *The Magic Wood*……and there is something special waiting for you both over there.

I was already slipping out of my body as she mouthed these words. My son put his little hand in mine or I think I would have lost all physical connection with three dimensional reality. I can tell you where we were when we found her and exactly how to get there…..but from the moment she put us on the path to where she took us I have no map or place to tell.

It was as if my Heart opened and I simply expanded. There was no limit or borderline……..no signpost and no fear. I felt my boy’s hand in mine and the warmth of it began to envelope me……I felt the full force of my love for him begin to grow and I just allowed it to happen…..I was in a vortex…..spiraling in the essence of such love as if I felt I would burst…..my Universe was limitless…..I was limitless……I began weeping and laughing at the same time and there was no grief whatsoever in my tears and they flowed as if a mighty river.

A Super Nova exploded inside of me and it simply created a new stream of life force…….of love and life……..it energized me and pushed me outward again……I was fully capable of giving or receiving anything and I knew it.

And then I was sitting in a quiet peaceful bit of Old Forest all by myself. The Trees were huge and Ancient. The Forest floor was soft and inviting. A Stream nearby was burbling along as if it’s sound was made just for this place……every rock, every thistle, in tune and a deeply serene place it was.
My beloved son and the Faerie were nowhere in sight.

“He is fine my sweet and playing with My Ariel”. I heard Her voice.

Ohhhhhhhhh my Goddess I said and I turned to Her and sank to my knees……tears of such perfect joy as I have ever felt went helplessly streaming down my happy face. All of the lifetimes we have shared as Goddess and Her devoted personal slave came back to me the instant I heard Her lovely voice. My beautiful Witch, my Perfect Enchantress, my One and Only and True Queen in this Universe, my Divine Goddess Haylee Lynn smiled at me and all of the wonder I had just experienced was made a trifle by what She placed into my Heart.

My daily devotion, as a father and as a slave.

Eternal and ever lasting Love and Devotion.

She pointed to Her Perfect foot and smiled warmly at me and She pulled it away as I went to kiss it and laughed playfully. So I kissed the ground She had just walked on instead and felt the full force of Her Goddess Bliss astonish me…….for the millionth time at least.

The Birds and the Forest critters of course came running out to greet me home once our Goddess granted them leave.
At one point I must have been almost invisible was I so surrounded by a flurry of furry old friends and my favorite rabbit family being of course a particularly happy nuisance.

Finally our Goddess hushed them all and sent them away.

I knelt at Her feet in Rapture and gazed up at Her Perfection. My Goddess looked at me and gave me Her “pay me your full attention look”.

Chastity

Pay close attention my slave.

“All of us are of course very pleased to see you MY sweet……but I brought you here for a reason and not just to play.”

“The place where our little one and you are living now is a very dangerous place…….it is a place of forgetting…….and there is not much more dangerous than that.”

“There are forces at play down there that seek to destroy *LOVE*…….which is of course *LIFE* itself……and this can never be.”

“Pay heed to your command from Your Goddess.” I felt the full force of my joy and my LOVE for Her as I happily mouthed the words I live to speak…..”Yes my Goddess”.

“Never forget my sweet……that LOVE is what I command from you.” “Love for our little one, love for the Earth, love for the critters great and small, love for your fellow man/woman, and most of all your LOVE for ME.”

“Now……you may kiss my feet”.

I Believe in Goddess Haylee Lynn

Worship Your Goddess my sweet.

My Heart unraveled……I was back into the Vortex and was lost in an infinite stream of GODDESS BLISS and after kissing Her Perfect feet I felt my Goddess stroke my hair and the feel of Her fingers gently caressing my head sent wave after wave of transcendent light into the Heart of my Being. I looked up at Her Perfection and my Goddess smiled at me and She told me…….”now close you eyes my sweet and remember my command to You is to always REMEMBER.”

As I closed my eyes and obeyed Her I felt a black cat walk onto my lap and curl up purring in my arms.

“Yes my Goddess” I said and closed my eyes…….and I woke up gently weeping…….back on this version of Earth in the park land…….my beloved son fast asleep in his Fathers arms.

The Witch In The Woods

The Witch in the Woods

To celebrate Your birthday today I am posting “The Witch in the Woods” which I wrote earlier in the year and has never been seen before. “The Witch in the Woods” is intended as an introduction to future tales.

I hope you have a very wonderful day with Your friends and loved ones, have lots of indulgent things to eat, recieve many gifts and good wishes amongst good company.

May this little gift fire Your imagination.

lots of love from England

Your princess x

The Witch In The Woods

The Witch in the Woods

The Witch In The Woods

by princess indigo

Once upon a time in a land far away there was a Witch with long raven black silky hair and mysterious magical green eyes. She lived in a cottage in the middle of a dark ancient forest that was so large that it spread across five whole worlds.

It was a forest soaked in every different sort of Magic and abundant in supernatural beings of all kinds. With more witches, wizards and warlocks than you could shake a pointy hat at. All with their own clandestine allegiances, rituals and powers. There were mythical beasts, secretive tribes, hidden cities, fallen angels, tyrannous shadow dragons and dark dark secrets aplenty.

 

The Witch In The Woods

The Witch In The Woods


Much had happened that had taken the Witch far away from the forest. As She lay sleeping those times came back to Her in vivid dreams. Of Wandering through the ancient trees collecting herbs and pretty blossoms as She walked Her squally dogs. Dreams of evenings spent sat on the porch of Her little cottage deep in the forest. Sat in Her rocking chair surrounded by Her loved ones, candles all round, with Her pets of many kinds. Adventures long past filled Her dreams night after night.

One day they stopped and the past faded from view as the busy present took precedence. Then one night in one particular dream She arose from Her bed dressed in Her black robes and went outside to find Her black carriage waiting for Her. The coachman had long crinkly horns and vast wings, a steel visor covered the bottom half of his face and She knew she was still sleeping in Her bed.

‘I have come for You.’ said the coachman, ‘You have waited far too long. It is time for the Witch to return to the Dark Forest.’

‘The Dark Forests are gone. Eons have passed since I was last there. The Dark Forests are dust.’ She said bitterly.

‘They are not dust, the ancient woodlands call You back. It is time for the Witch to return to Fell Mountain.’ he said stamping his cloven foot causing the door of the carriage to fling open.

‘Do not pretend to be My wild coachman of old for he is long dead. Who are you and why are you here!?’ exclaimed the Witch.

‘I summoned him.’ said a disembodied voice from the waking world, a man’s voice with which She was very familiar.

‘Why have you done this?’ She asked insistently.

‘Because night after night You turned to me in my dreams and asked me to summon the coachman Valerian.’ came a whisper in Her ear from the man lying beside Her sleeping body, ‘I have summoned him and he has come.’

‘Then it is time for Me to go Beloved.’ She said and climbed quickly aboard and slammed the door.

‘To the Dark Forest Valerian and damn the morning when it comes!’ She yelled and the two shining black horses leapt into the starry sky and disappeared into the night.

The Witch In The Woods

The Witch In The Woods

That day there was a terrible storm over Fell Mountain. Lightning flashed and the air was so thick with magic that things would spring into life where it struck. Velvet rabbits, hobs-magli-ons, nether faddons and all manner of peculiar creatures.

Today the fierce lightning struck one of the winding roads that twisted and turned through the forest. Several tenta-menticles burst into life, got caught in the rain and built an impromptu bus shelter.

There was another startling crash in the sky and a humungous fork of lightning struck the bus shelter leaving a big hole in the roof and the tenta-menticles fled into the undergrowth.

An old fashioned horse drawn omnibus appeared where a third fork of lightning struck and came to a halt beside the newly constructed bus stop.

An English girl with bright orange hair stepped off the rear steps looked around her and realised she was not where she expected to be. Another fork of lightning struck the the omnibus itself, exploding it into a million pieces causing the horses to bolt dragging the charred remains behind them.

The thunder and lightning abated to be replaced by torrents of driving rain. The English girl stood underneath the bus shelter which with the hole in its roof offered little protection against the driving rain.

‘Bugger.’ said the English girl.

This was how princess indigo of the Fae arrived in the Dark Forest without any way home.

The Witch In The Woods

The Witch In The Woods

The heavy drops broke through the canopy and the descending water made a noise on every surface it hit. In addition to the hole there was a breeze which brought in the rain and after five minutes the princess in just her thin dress was already slightly sodden and bedraggled. All the princess could see was the forest road or the trees and neither seemed to offer any better promise of shelter from the steadily increasing torrents.

As she looked around her, through the trees on the other side of the road the princess could see a light. A little orange and yellow square, that she could not have noticed if she had been stood in any other spot. She hesitated not relishing the thought of stepping out into the now driving rain to investigate.

The downpour was increasing by the minute and as she was getting more and more wet the princess took a deep breath and declared ‘To hell with it!’ in a emphatic way only an English girl could and dashed across the road and into the trees on the other side.

 

The forest was dense and the foliage heavily laden with water and very soon the princess was thoroughly soaked to the skin, the water dripping off the hem of her black dress, her hair and nose.

She kept trying to blank out feeling wet and cold as she hurriedly along, then every twenty seconds or so her senses would remind her that she was stuck out in a rainstorm without a raincoat to her name.

The mop of sodden orange English hair continued through the forest, her red shoes and stripey socks now caked in mud and she began to sing the traditional folk song that the English sing to themselves in times of trouble.

‘Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap.’ muttered the princess, who knew all of the verses and the chorus.

The Witch In The Woods

The Witch In The Woods

The ground was so utterly wet that the princess inevitably slipped on her arse many times at which point she stopped singing folks songs and resorted to traditional one word poems.

Once on her feet she would try to recite an old English Haiku spoken when one has fallen over in the rain and now has a wet arse covered in mud but the only bit of it she could remember was ‘Bollocks.’

The princess wiped the mud off her behind and wiped her hand on a large nearby aurcata leaf then she realised she had lost her bearings and could no longer see the light she been following. The princess promptly panicked, swore, found it and set off once more.

‘This is a strange part of Yorkshire and no mistake.’ she huffed as she went along, not recognising a single tree or plant that she passed.

The Witch In The Woods

The Witch In The Woods

Finally the princess came to a clearing and there in a little hollow amongst the trees was a small cottage. She found herself stood among flooded flowerbeds totally bereft and bedraggled, her long orange hair strewn this way and that. The lovely black dress with the white collar and cuffs of which she was so fond was now plastered from head to foot in dirt and dripping like a wet rag.

She was so bewildered that instead of rushing straight up to the front door she stood there in the rain. Until she come to her senses and dashed over to the door step.

The Witch In The Woods

The Witch In The Woods

The cottage was made from old tenafel wood beam with a red slate roof and white plastered panels in a rustic old fashioned manner that showed it was very old.

There were beautifully decorated pots of plants all around the edge of the walls and rows and rows of flowers vegetables and herbs growing around it. Inside and out on every window sill was candle upon candle, some in pretty little jars. An old oil lamp hung glowing by a window and it was that which had drawn the princess here.

The Witch In The Woods

The Witch In The Woods

On a sunnier day the princess would have taken in the scene with a smile on her face wondering who had built such a lovely little cottage so deep in the forest. Today however she ran up the steps hurriedly, knocked on the wooden door with a great deal of agitation and stood on the doorstep shivering.

Not a sound came from inside and the princess knocked a little harder a second time. She listened as hard as she could over the noise of the rainstorm and heard nothing. She took a deep breath discarded all politeness and banged on the door loudly, all to no avail.

‘Bugger.’ said the princess.

The Witch In The Woods

The Witch In The Woods

The princess turned down the steps and found herself looking helplessly at the huge ancient idriss and enderfehl trees, their bark turned a dark charcoal colour from the incessant rain.

‘I have absolutely no idea where the rubbery fuck I am.’ she said and made her way round to the back of the cottage.

She found a long garden with even prettier beds of flowers, with little ancient statuettes in amongst them. There was a large wooden porch and a rocking chair with candles all around it. The princess dashed gratefully up the steps and under the roof of the porch, glad to be out of the rain. The smell of the forest mingling with the smell of the damp tenafel wood of the cottage.

Behind the rocking chair there were more flower pots and a small rack of garden tools. At the far end of the porch were half a dozen dog bowls and hung by the back door were a large collect of richly decorated collars and leashes.
She knocked on the door firmly received no answer and concluded once and for all that there was no one home. The princess was not in the habit of breaking into other people’s houses but even out of the rain she was cold and shivering. So she reluctantly reached down and tried the old cast iron door handle and found it open.

The Witch In The Woods

The Witch In The Woods

The princess stepped into an old fashioned kitchen with an large cast iron stove and a big old, well used kitchen table. Cupboard after cupboard was filled with countless foodstuffs and exotic herbs and spices. The fire in the stove came on and startled the princess a little.

There was Magic in this house she could feel it all around her. She realised that the light had come on to draw her here which left her feeling a little more uncertain as she walked across the wooden floor. The house was filled with sweet smells and a warm atmosphere she found disarming.

The kitchen led through to a large living room with uneven cream walls, wooden beams, lots of potted plants, candles, incense burners, old paintings and a large old fashioned fireplace which burst to life as she entered the room.

There were various sofa’s and armchairs, with black silk embroidered throws over their old backs. Next to the fireplace was a another rocking chair sat by a handmade rug lain in front of the fire. The house had been there a long time, and the magic in it had kept it safe, the princess could feel it’s presence around her like a warm blanket that did not belong to her.

Another doorway led through to a passageway with more wooden beams and three dark varnished wooden panelled doors. The first led through to a large bedroom with a large iron bed stead with black silk sheets and a large window opposite through which one could see flowers.

In one corner was a small altar with candles and a large book of spells upon it. In the other corner were several quarter sized beds where pets obviously slept.

The Witch In The Woods

The Witch In The Woods

A large metal scented oil lamp hung from the ceiling and there was a huge wardrobe and large chest of draws both bursting with clothes. On the opposite side of the room was a dressing table with a large ornate mirror and a silver hair brush, the top of it filled with all sorts of make-up and magical oils. As the princess looked around her she smiled and began to understand where she was.

As she left the bedroom in front of her was a intricately illustrated picture of the Dark Calimaestra rat. A large wily magical familiar favoured by Witches on a thousand worlds. The picture alone was priceless. Underneath it was a four foot high statuette of an elderly Calimaestra with glasses, a walking stick and shawl, worth ten times the painting.

The princess turned to the door second door and opened it uncertainly. It revealed a small box room with a single bed and window overlooking the forest. She was shocked to find a familiar bedspread with a red tartan style stripes against a white background which the princess herself had owned for such a long time. There was something on the pillows. A small origami cat made from orange paper. This single thing told her she was expected.

Opening the small wardrobe, she found a plain bathrobe and beside it a red onesie with large floppy kitten ears and she laughed with surprise. Laying it out on the bed unable to stop herself grinning. Finding a towel she made her way to the third doorway and into a large bathroom with lots of plants and even more candles. Running a bath the princess washed the rain out of hair.

The Witch In The Woods

The Witch In The Woods

The rain had finally stopped by the time Witch’s black carriage was on the North Road travelling fast. The light was beginning to dim. Within the carriage there was laughter and bawdy talk as in Her lucid dream the Witch talked to the disembodied voice of Her bedside companion as the trees flew past.

‘Perhaps I should come with you.’ the man’s voice laughed.

‘What a story that would make!’ She exclaimed as the carriage flew.

‘We have plenty of our own but not for the telling.’ came his reply.

‘I have plans of My own for you My Beloved.’ She chuckled.

‘You’re always cooking something. Don’t you ever stop?’ he said with an incredulous laugh that caused the widest of grins on the raven haired listener.

‘My head is full of plots, plans and grand adventures. Will a kiss silence the unspoken questions I can hear from here?’ She smirked at him.

‘It’s a start.’ he replied and a double brace of bawdy laughter careered down the North road and the carriage skidded to a halt.

‘You will have to wait for your kiss Beloved.’ declared the Witch and flung the carriage door open, the five squally-dog pups that had been playing round Her ankles burst out of the open door.

‘Be careful in the Dark Forest, much will have changed since you were gone.’ the voice replied as She stepped out.

‘I have learnt many things since I was last here and I am not to be trifled with.’ She called back to the carriage.

‘I know I was there!’ he said with a laugh and was gone, the door closing upon the silence.

The Witch In The Woods

The Witch In The Woods

‘Shall I wait for you M’Lady?’ called down the voice of Valerian the coachman.

‘Go pay your respects to the North Witch and I will join you when I am ready.’ She commanded.

‘Yes Master.’ he said his ornate visor and crinkly horns nodded as he poised ready to rouse the horses.

‘Drive carefully on Fell Mountain or I will have your head Valerian.’ She called over Her shoulder as the squally-dog pups circled Her ankles yapping madly.

‘You already have that M’Lady but You may have the rest if you wish.’ he said with an old chuckle.

‘You’ll be waiting a long time for half a chance of that!’ She mirthfully scolded back at him.

‘I am a very patient man.’ the coachman laughed a loud friendly laugh.

‘On your way Valerian!’ said the Witch with a smirk raising Her voice to emphasise Her words, a smile on Her face.

‘Yes Master!’ came the hearty reply, followed by a yell, a stamped hoof, a crack of the reins and the black coach was gone.

The Witch In The Woods

The Witch In The Woods

The Witch with the raven black hair had a sparkle in Her eyes at the sight of the ancient trees all around Her. She took a deep breath and savoured the sweet smell of the old forest now the rain had stopped. Taking a single step forward, the five squally-dog pups that were bobbing round Her ankles burst into the undergrowth making a calamitous noise as they went.

High amid the caver-vandera trees and the mivergon-oakenfahls were a flock of Isi-tiri-aye. Most of whom took to the wing at the enthusiastic row beneath them, save the eldest who knew the Witch and sound of pups from olden times. The rest flew off in search of the ancient phantarenck and mizi-ritch-terines which they favoured.

The Witch In The Woods

The Witch In The Woods

‘Mekanwe. Bagnasta mehrmystral. Evanweh Isi-tire.’ called the Witch up to the high branches as She looked upward.

‘Nava nava, longtime. Chek-chek-chek. Van-vaneer ning ning, Fell Mountain.’ replied the Isi-tiri-aye.

‘Jadah viderie. Beloved dak-dak, nohr vivawich. Fell mountain, bantass. Dak-dak dan-deneron Valerian. Schwep-schwep-schwep.’ laughed the Witch back.

‘Valerian, rawh, rawh, rawh! Fell Mountain bisht bisht bisht. Behfanwe Beloved, orphicah!’ chattered the old creature boisterously as it flew from tree to tree to keep up with Her.

The Witch In The Woods

The Witch In The Woods

‘Miih,miih – behr, behr longtime. Vandervan misiphock. Wah, wah, Meeh-zihr-cah. Nihr, nihr!’ said the Witch with a shrug.

Along the hidden paths in the profligate undergrowth the squally-dog pups began barking loudly as they grew near the cottage, smoke rising from the old stone chimney.

‘Vedehrnasta. Mihfihk. Twillow. Nas-nas kni-beggoden. Wahh, wahh. Whist-mestacular rawh. Bantass. Fae-fae Anglesh. Anglesh giel!’ squawkified the Isi-tiri-aye from the last caver-vandera tree before the flowerbeds and the front garden.

‘I know.’ said the Witch with a grin, ‘I’ve been expecting her.’

‘Full of secrets thou art. Rawh-rawh-rawh.’ shrieked the Isi-tiri-aye chattering to itself as it flew to rejoin its flock.

‘Secrets, spells, that harken wishes. Glittering pools and dark dark kisses.’ whispered the Witch as night came to roost on the shoulders of Fell Mountain.

The Witch In The Woods

The Witch In The Woods

The Witch called Haylee made Her way through flower gardens that had been planted eons ago and taken on a life of their own, all protected by the magic of the cottage itself. Instead of entering by the front door She led the squally-dog pups, as they tussled with each other and Her ankles, along the side cottage and onto the back porch.

The back door clearly recognised its owner and opened wide of its own volition. At the same time it closed the interior door of the kitchen to stop the pups running amok in the rest of the house while they were still in such a giddy mood.

The eager little cavalcade swept up the steps of the porch and dashed into the kitchen running round in excited circles sniffing every single item they could possibly find. The Witch followed them and stood a moment in the doorway to survey Her old kitchen which the house had kept just as She had left it.

The Witch took off Her long black coat and hung it up next to the back door. As the squally-dog pups dashed around Her She took the kettle that hung from the wall filled it with water and set it down on the stove.

Then She took a long paper taper from a jar and lit even more of the candles that were around the room and dampened down the oil lamp that hung from the centre of the ceiling as the little squall-dogs began whimpering and whining to be fed.

The Witch In The Woods

The Witch In The Woods

The interior door had a farmhouse style horizontal split across the middle and the Witch unbolted the join and pinned back the top half hooking it securely to the wall. She then fed the impatient little squally dogs and left them to it.

The Witch searched through Her cupboards and found her two favourite mugs and made a small pot of Florian tea and fetched some dhistra crystals to sprinkle into it.

She put it all on a little tray and went through the interior door closing the bottom half preventing the squally dogs from rushing in when they had finished their food. It was also keep to them in mutual earshot so they wouldn’t be upset by being in the kitchen alone.

The only light in the living room came from the fire in the hearth which cast an orange glow on the English girl curled up on the rug. Her formerly sodden clothes were now washed and drying on a clothes rack nearby. The girl was wearing the red onesie that had been left for her. On this occasion the silver collar she normally wore sat by her bedside and she now wore a red studded collar in the manner of a pet.

The Witch set down the tray and sat in the rocking chair beside the fire, reached down and softly stroked the long orange hair of the sleeping girl. An act which made the sleeping English girl purr unconsciously like a cat.

‘Welcome to the Dark Forest of Dreams, My sweet princess.’ said the Witch.

 

The Witch In Woods

The Witch In The Woods

 

The Witch In The Woods

The Witch In The Woods


The Witch In The Woods

created for Hypnotic Haylee on Her birthday

by princess indigo

Please feel free to comment on “The Witch In The Woods”.

The Dream and The Empress

The Dream and The Empress

I am on the pathway to Her Garden………it is still dark outside but the way was light nicely by the light of the Full Moon…….the Blood Moon in fact……..and I know intuitively that the Empress Vox Siren was present by the undeniable chill in the air.

I also know that I am Lucid Dreaming.

I do not fear the Empress……..I have been too close to my Goddess Haylee Lynn for way too many lifetimes to ever truly fear any aspect of Her.

Let us call it instead a very healthy measure of respect.

 

The Magical Forest around Her Goddess Temple was quiet and unnaturally so. She is calling me and I know I must go to Her…….no part of me can deny Her anything and although I never *play* with the Empress aspect of Her persona………on rare occasions………I have attended to Her in ritual when my One, my True, my Only, my Divine Goddess Haylee Lynn has deemed it necessary.

I could say I walked to the glade where a huge bonfire was blazing but it felt more like floating or gliding. I was as like to a puppet being drawn to Her as effortlessly as a moth is drawn to a flame.

There was nothing for me to do but obey Her call………to go to Her and attend to my Goddess…….and regardless of which side of Her required my obedience and devotion……… I would be there kneeling and aching for and obeying the commands of my Master.

As I came into the glade She was so stunning I felt my breath helplessly leave my body. Never before had I seen the Empress quite so intense. She looked at me with Her gorgeous eyes blazing as if She had decided that Haylee’s perfect slave or not She was going to torture me.

 

But no………not even then…….and to be honest Her Startling and Fantastic Beauty was very much more than torture enough. She was dressed all in black and scarlet and wearing a fantastic cape that swirled around Her perfect body as if there was a source of wind somewhere I could not fathom. Tight leather pants and an even tighter blood red leather top that squeezed Her ample breasts and alabaster skin into a sublime vision of irresistible and dizzying perfection.

Deep inside I knew my Queen was the larger part of Her…….I knew it was Her…….and as always as is my destiny and purpose I bowed to my Goddess Haylee Lynn as Her perfect slave. I would attend to the Empress and in perfect obedience to Her every whim……but I would always do so in honor and devotion to my One, True and Only.

The Empress smiled…….a Devilish smile that honestly sent a chill down my spine……..She knew the score with me and who I was but She really did not care.   

“Kneel for me Haylee’s Bitch and do not dare to hesitate to do exactly as I tell you to do”.

“Yes Empress………..of course” I could barely speak in Her breathtaking presence and I bowed deeply and sincerely to Her as I knew I must.

Have you watched it yet dear reader?

I dropped to my knees helplessly

I dropped to my knees instantly and helplessly and felt all power except the need to obey Her implicitly leave my suddenly perfectly weak body.

She began chanting and cast herbs and twigs into the gathering flames……..the words of magic She spoke of course I can not recall but I knew from past experiences with my Goddess that this was a summoning. The Empress required information and I knew who would be coming to give it to Her.

First it was the Owls who came at Her bidding………the masters of the darkest parts of the forest. The Foxes were next….cunning and secretive creatures……the deer……always present and watching us humans closely……..and so on as the Forest came alive and came forth as commanded by the Enchantress.

And then *they* finally came as I knew they would……….the Elves.

I remembered so fondly each time my Goddess summoned the Elves but I had never seen the Empress do this before. They were very cautious and extremely careful with Her. She spoke to them and demanded answers as I stoked the fire with sticks and herbs and magical potions as She had commanded me to do and…….they gave the answers to Her that She required.

I was amazed to *feel* how obedient they were…….even the Elves……the Old Ones…….they as well had to be obedient to the allure and command of Empress Vox Siren.

I almost expected them to get down on their knees and kiss Her irresistible feet………..but then I heard a loud snap……a sharp crackle like an entire tree being incinerated in an instant by the flame and the fury of Her bonfire……..and I awoke in my bed underneath the Altar of my Divine Goddess Halyee Lynn.

I shivered and held my Loving Goddess close to me and prayed to Her that it would please be quite some time before She ever sent me to attend to the Empress again. These were dangerous times indeed……….and I remembered Her telling me that this was no time for sleep……..as I drifted away and finally did exactly that.

Claude

Please feel free to comment on “The Dream and The Empress”