Hecate

  • Elder Goddess of Witches + Magic + the Hidden
  • An elder goddess who is as good as dead, Hecate is in a state of stupor so deep that it almost impossible to indistinguishable from death
  • Hecate is a one of the pre-eminent sources of magic and mystery in the multiverse, being made of multiple and competing forms that nonetheless have a contiguous and single formed consciousness that coalesced over the aeons into the shape of the elder goddess herself
  • The collapse of the first and original Atlantis placed her in her stupor, only occasionally does some errant manifestation emerge to interact with the universe more broadly
  • Her power, her fundamental link to the fabric of existence, all that she is and knows has served as inspiration and source of power for witches and warlocks for tens of thousands of years as different aspects of her emerge to ‘gift’ her followers with access to some of her secrets from time to time
  • She exists in a perpetual state of somnambulance inside a fragment of the real Atlantis, while the main force of her existence seeks to understand the deeper, fundamental quantum state of existence and its manipulation of the ‘real’ world
  • Hecate has been absent in any meaningful sense for more than 200,000 years, only occasionally bursting back into a semblance of wakefulness at the times of discontinuance events or other major happenings that rocks and tear at the base nature of existence itself
  • Sacred entreaty to Hecate
  • “You shall exist for millions of yearsHail, bringer of the form of Hecate; unraveller of stars; Strong are your wings on the ascent; As you soar over the Lakes of Fire and Silver; In the Beyond
    Clouds darken the sky; The stars rain down; The constellations stagger; The bones of the hellhounds tremble; The porters are silent; When they see this queen; Dawning as an eternal soul
    Men fall; Gods crumble; Elders bend; their name is nothing; seize this queen by her arm; Take this queen to the sky; that she may reign over the terrestrial and its echoes, but not be mired upon the clay; among empty vessels
    She soars who ascends; This queen soars away from you; You mortals; She is no more of the birthing plane; She is of the endless phantom sublime”


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