The cauldron boiled and bubbled on the fire. The emanating smell was something between the aroma of mountain herbs and the slightly sweet scent of a decaying corpse. Three figures in peculiar dress slowly swayed around the cauldron. One of them was twice the height of the others, and there was something inhuman in its silhouette, while a carved mask covered the face. It spoke first:
– I see, I see a blackthorn entwine an ash tree. The winterberry breaks the willow. Splinters fly! Red leaves spread across the earth. Grass withers and leaves die!
– I see, I see the gyr torment the falcon. – The other figure picked up, as it stirred the cauldron brew with a long stick. – The kingfisher battles the waxwing. Feathers fly, oh how they fly! Down fills the air. A screech, a terrible bird screech fills the sky!The third figure tossed a pinch of powder in the cauldron. In response, the brew spat out a column of smoke and the sounds of dying people – or was it animals – echoed within.
I see, I see, a bear fights a wolf. The hare tears the fox. Fur flies, oh how it flies! Blood feeds the earth. A howl, a wolfen howl covers the mountains!
The three sisters, soothsayer witches, threw their arms up for a moment, then froze still, listening to the boiling liquid and sniffing the fumes out for a hint of the future. What they saw brought them little joy.

Keila, the Green Knight


Dearg the Iron Axe