A Gathering of Witches
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The night is silent, the moon bright but passing storm clouds hide its light.
The sound of rushing leaves, brushing branches, screams of the hoot owl long in the distance.
A voice from the wind calls; "come sisters, come, here in this place, here in this darkness come, come now for I call you by name; Circe, confuser of men, powers from the blue crystal, power of the wind, "I am here who calls me from my rest?
I too, Hexiba, sister of the dead came forth, showed us the power of your spells. ...
The sound of rushing leaves, brushing branches, screams of the hoot owl long in the distance.
A voice from the wind calls; "come sisters, come, here in this place, here in this darkness come, come now for I call you by name; Circe, confuser of men, powers from the blue crystal, power of the wind, "I am here who calls me from my rest?
I too, Hexiba, sister of the dead came forth, showed us the power of your spells. ...






















