by Maggi Burchall

Created on: June 19, 2008

2014

The magnificent old grandfather clock seemed to tick in anticipation on this 13th night of June, a Friday, and also the night of the full moon. The spectacle from the balcony was wondrous; the golden orb could be seen rising between the boughs of the ancient oak tree, and it seemed to fill the horizon. Stars were starting to sparkle in the sky and the whispy clouds clinging to the moon's rim added an extra dimension to the scene..

In a clearing in the local woods a Coven of 12 Lunar witches gathered as their moon rose, preparing for the ceremony to come on this most sacred of nights. Each one had marked out their Pentagram with iridescent purple silk thread, and set their altars on the outermost point. Then 5 who had been chosen because of their great spirituality and wisdom ceremoniously marked out the central Pentagram, which by midnight would be directly below the mid-heaven. Their moon would fill the space between the tops of the surrounding circle of trees, flooding the clearing with silver moonlight.. Bats fluttered and shrieked in the trees and glow-worms added their glimmer to the proceedings.
While the 5 performed the marking ceremony, the rest of the Coven took their places and began dancing and chanting building slowly. As they finished their task, the 5 also returned to their Pentagrams and joined in the chant.. Just as the moon reached the height of it's orbit and shone a path of silver light onto the clearing, the witches dropped their robes, reached their hands in the air and turned their joyous faces to the heavens..

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If anyone had been watching as the grandfather clock struck midnight, they may have noticed a slithering silvery stream slip down the pendulum chain from deep inside the clock where it had lain dormant for what seemed like eternity. It slowly slid through the space between the glass door and its frame, and out to the balcony.

It had been just 5 years short of a century since the being trapped within this silvery stream had last tasted freedom or breathed fresh air, and it was exciting and exhilarating to know it was about to happen once again.

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On Friday June 13th 1919, the closest full moon to the summer solstice, the Lunar witches had performed their sacred summer ritual. But at the height of the ceremony, a bolt of lightning had appeared from the totally clear sky and struck the centre Pentagram. The High Priestess of the Coven was caught by the edge of the lightning bolt and in her place was a silvery stream

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