🜂 The Triad of Thread and Spirit

Wrought beneath the turning wheel, between Mabon’s breath and Samhain’s sigh.
Three vessels born of wax and will —

• Scarlett Sinead, Flame of Focus

• Shadow Seamus, Blade of Severance

• Ash, Bone & Breath, Veil of Remembrance

Hand-sewn beneath the waning moon,
as veil and world entwined in mourning and rebirth.
Each stitch a whisper, each herb a vow,
each thread a crossing between what was and what shall be.

They are not dolls, but dwellings —
forms where intention kindles,
where magic takes its pulse from grief, devotion, and becoming.

Call them forth only with clean heart and steady purpose.
Feed them flame, incense, and reverence.
Let them stand upon your altar as guardians of threshold work:
the Passion, the Severance, and the Memory.

Together they turn the cycle —
Fire, Shadow, and Bone —
three faces of the Witch’s will& wheel
forever stitched between the worlds.

.🜃 Scarlett Sinead – The Ember of Focus

Born under Mabon’s waning light, as one beloved spirit crossed the veil.
Crowned in sunflowers sown by the witch’s own hand, feasted upon by birds,
sealed in beeswax, basil, and tea-rose.

Her robe bears crosses of consecrated thread,
anointed in oils of focus and flame.
The linen collar of the 1930s binds past to present — a whisper of lineage.

She awakens the fire of purpose, stirring passion from ember to blaze.
Hold her in petition, and she shall quicken your will —
the red current of devotion that births creation

🜄 Shadow Seamus – The Keeper of Severance

Wrought in black beneath Samhain’s falling veil.
Upon his brow rest acorns of two realms — gathered at dawn in City Park,
and from the grave-quiet soil of Provincetown.

Waxed in bees’ blessing, crowned with marigold and cedar,
his crosses are sewn with threads kissed by sacred oil.

He walks between — guardian and releaser.
In his presence, what clings without purpose withers.
Call upon Seamus when endings must be honored,
when protection is needed in shadowed work.
He severs with grace, leaving only the true and the whole

Ash, Bone & Breath – The Whisper of the Golden Shadow

Conceived in stormlight upon Mabon’s edge, in a forest temple of the Catskills.
Her crown is woven from twigs of tempest,
sealed in beeswax, tea-rose, and herbs for remembrance.

White as bone, she stands between ancestor and descendant —
the living altar of breath.

Her power is veneration and revelation:
she opens the gate to those who came before,
and mirrors the hidden self.

She is peace in the veil’s thinning —
the stillness where spirit and shadow entwine