Siobhan’s Story – Riders on the Storm.
“Live your life in truth, as truth is freedom; lies are a never ending maze that grows. Take some time each day to be silent, what you hear will truly surprise you.” – Pamela Sutherland #PSMyWords
I have always believed in the old gods – they provided hope and stability. -RM MyQuote-
(The Witches, the Sea Ogre and the Sea Snail)
Join me as the Witching Hour approaches and we will face the struggle together.The Black Witch:
There was a time when the land knew peace love and harmony, and forgiveness. Maybe there have always been monsters and perhaps there always will. This black witch was a real monster who planted her foul seeds of evil into all around her so they could go out and infect the world.
At first, on the surface, she may appear as a normal woman but scratch the surface and deep down…… pray that you never find out.
It was the stench of decay that gave her away. Sheer poison, greater than the deepest cess pit. Jezendor Orydon was a black witch, probably the most twisted, darkest, and cruellest of all black witches; whose greatest pleasure in her miserable misguided life was in destroying children and dreams of happiness for all. She had to be stopped.
Her world is a most dangerous place to be; invisible, darkly insidious it grows silently like a cancer. For anyone with the misfortune to find themselves ensnared in her tangled web it can drag them down, way down, into the depths of despair; and beyond. Not a good place to be.
A time for the support of real friends, people who will reach out, lend a helping hand. But how do you know who is a friend? Who is a real friend? Who is a true friend? Real true friends are very few and far between; yet all it takes is someone with a lamp, a steady arm to hold it high, a quiet voice – and the patience to see it through. No-one said it would be easy.
How many friends, real friends, true friends, does a person really have? You find out very quickly when you need help the most – and the answer is “very few”. Fair-weather friends are like fallen leaves in a gale. So much chaff. Vultures flapping around a corpse. Vitriolic.
But then, just when things seem like they cannot get any worse, you somehow have to find that tiny piece of inner strength; that fragment of the indomitable spirit which remains, like a spark, somewhere within you. Time to realise there are still a few real friends out there who are still there for you, still with you, still helping, supporting and nurturing you and your dreams. Helping to build a new life, a better future. Hold on to those helping hands. Re-igniting the fire. Bringing Hope.
Room 101 is very real. Everyone needs to be aware that the Thought Police are alive and thriving in the real world where corruption is endemic. Corruption feeds hatred. Who polices the Thought Police?
I think, therefore I am, I think. And so, darkness falls.
Jezendor Orydon had never approved of anyone. The evil black witch, the real monster in all of this, so deeply mired within her own neurotic state that the only way she could survive was to infect everyone she came in contact with. Spreading her destructive vile poison on to the youngest and most vulnerable. And beyond!
But for now she is happy to wallow in her own stinking midden.
And so it begins…..
The Sea Ogre
Deplon Torebach was a Sea Ogre from the hidden undersea world of the Lune Deep. Sub-marine reef cliffs cut during the last ice age and forged by the strong currents raging some 70 metres below the surface of Morecambe Bay, where the incoming tide can run faster than a man. From the depths of his home in the grand canyon beneath the waves Deplon Torebach would occasionally rise up and with his huge paddle row his giant canoe around the wide treacherous bay.
Although for most of the time he lived a quiet contemplative life, always slow to anger, he was a formidable creature who could strike fear into the hearts of those who entered and abused his domain; the many wrecks that litter the seabed along this coastline lay as stark reminders of the perils of the sea.
His story is not yet known, but he will live on in the memories of those who sought his help to rid the world of Jezendor Orydon whose pervasive stinking poison contaminated not only the people around her but the land too and the wide bay beyond, polluting even the very deepest channels on the seabed. But it would need the help of another witch to conjure up the spells to defy and defeat the sheer evil that was the black witch. The battle would not be easy and there were bound to be casualties.
The White Witch – Part 1
Siobhan, a Wiccan of the old Order, the white witch in the coastal village, possessed considerable powers to harness the elemental balances of goodness over evil; always ready to come to the aid of those who sought her help. Her charms were legendary. But would she be able to conjure up the forces strong enough to defeat the black witch? It would take the strongest spell, the most potent brew that she had ever devised and all her powers of endurance to succeed. But Siobhan was not in the best of health herself and her strengths were already weakened. She heeded the call for help but she would also need to call upon Deplon Torebach for his help and tremendous physical strength in the struggle ahead. Siobhan also gave me the inner strength to carry on writing this journal. Faith. Without her this story might never have been told.
The White Witch – Part 2, The Black Witch, The Sea Ogre, and The Sea Snail
The ancient leather-bound volume was opened, its’ well-thumbed faded pages turned and searched. Words were spoken, the candles were lighted, the spirits summoned and their powers invoked; the spell was cast. Now it began. But where and how would it end? This was a world beyond me. I will try to record the battle precisely, exactly as it happened and as accurately as possible – here I must rely on my contemporary notes made at the time but forgive me if my recollections fail me!
It was midnight. The witching hour on the wild Fylde Coast. Gale force winds blasting in from the sea. High raging tide, full moon bathing the heaving surging broken surface of the Bay in an eerie silver light. White horses galloping along the crests of the waves racing headlong, unstoppable, across the foaming surf towards the land.
On land all windows were shuttered, all doors bolted tight. A wild night at sea. The storm raging. Flood gates closed. Cold and wet. No hiding place. Salt spray stinging, blinding the eyes. The noise of the storm deafening. Overpowering the senses. Terrifying.
Siobhan stood on the shoreline, at the very edge of the water. Her back to the land, facing the might of the storm, with crashing waves swirling around her legs, trying to drag her down; freezing cold and soaked to the skin. But she stood firm. Arms raised, outstretched, holding the bright silver moon between the pale white palms of her hands as she first called out for the Black Witch to stand before her. The Black Witch’s powers were strong, it’s true, but the strength of her arrogance was itself a weakness that Siobhan had to probe and break.
Siobhan then summoned up her friend the Sea Ogre, awakening him from his undersea world. He was ready for the call and he knew instinctively what needed to be done. He would not let Siobhan down, come what may he would not desert her – however hard the struggle ahead may be, and whatever the cost.
Delusion v Illusion. Deception v Perception. Destruction v Creation. Hubris v Humility.
Black and White. Right and Wrong. Truth and Lies.
The magic was working. It had to work, it must not fail. No surrender. Truth and goodness must and will prevail.
At last the White Witch had the Black Witch under her spell, controlling, holding her suspended, kicking and screaming, twisting and turning above the crashing waves.
Just then a yellowy grey green glow began to appear from the west, spreading over the surface of the bay, drifting slowly towards them. Beneath the clouds, eyes appeared in the sky, eyes in the sky looking down, watching, like spectres. Strong eyes, burning with fire. Seeking revenge.
The glow, like a fog, settled around the Black Witch still held above the water under the power of the White Witch. Huge hands, his barnacled fingers like tentacles, reaching up from beneath the waves, the Sea Ogre had arrived. Dragging the Black Witch down, ever downward, into his world, the world she had polluted. Deep down into the very depths of the pollution she herself had created with her evil.
Lightning flashed, super-charged energy, its power splitting the night sky. Thunder roared. Waves crashed. Shrieking. Howling. Wind or Witch? Impossible to tell. The noise deafening. Stand Fast. Stand Tall. Stand True. Old gods rule….
Siobhan’s strength was fading, but she was not finished yet.
The Black Witch cast a spell on the Sea Ogre, turning him to stone. He lost his grip, she changed shape into a Sea Snail as she sought to escape and hide. But the eyes in the sky saw it all and flashed their message to Siobhan waiting on the shore. With the last of the forces at her command, the White Witch cast one final spell – and blasted the Sea Snail with a crashing bolt of lightning.
The Sea Ogre’s Paddle
The Sea Ogre’s paddle drifted up to lay on the shore like some strange offering. His giant canoe lost in the raging battle out at sea.
Dawn – Night turns into day. The calm after the storm. Time moves on but what remains? Ebb and flow. Swallowed up on each incoming tide they are lost beneath the waves but as the tides go out, the sea retreats once more and the beach reveals a Sea Ogre turned to stone gazing out across the sands to the shattered spiral shell of a giant Sea Snail.
And the Sea Ogre’s Paddle? It is now raised just above the reach of the tide. They are all still there, caught in time, standing as reminders to us all of what happened here that night.
The White Witch – Part 3
Siobhan was there for me when I was stranded, lost for words, alone. Now she is drained, I must be there to support her as she recovers her strength. To be there for her when she needs help in her next battle to fight and overcome the fatigue and illness. No need to ask, and no questions asked. Same space, same time, different worlds, Siobhan is a bridge. She holds the lantern way up high to light the way. Simple basic humanity and understanding, common sense or magic? That’s what this is all about.
Riders on the Storm – Lessons Learned
No-one ever said life was easy – and they were right.
When you need help you’re on your own – but you are not alone.
When you have to bail out be sure to have your parachute strapped on – and trust the packer.
When a mountain blocks your way, search for the pass, find a new path, there will be a way around it. Get over it or get round it, but just move on.
When shit happens, hold your nerve – and your nose!
Blackbirds still sing in the morning, ladybirds still return each spring.
Time: Moves on.
Down: We’ve all been there. When you’ve been down so long, learn to reach out, reach up and move on. Be strong.
Riders on the Storm – Final Thoughts
I grow weary of battle.
Thanks to Bill and Marion, to Ray, to Pat and Ken. Their views were invaluable. They gave me the time to rest a while and the space to pause for thought, to recover, to find my feet once more in this ever changing world. Time to move on. I close this journal. Thanks Siobhan, you made it happen.
© Russ Morton 31st October 2014