top of page
unsplash-4DaSc3Sn76A_edited.jpg
Brown Simple Aesthetic Desktop Wallpaper.png
Toil & Trouble

FFF: Being an Accurate Account of the General Meeting of the Witches/Warlocks Council by Alex Grehy

Full title: Being a True and Accurate Account of the Extraordinary General Meeting of the Witches/Warlocks Council December 2022

 

A free and frank discussion ensued


Threadspanner, minute secretary to the venerable council, paused, relieved that he'd turned the golden dial on the Quill of Truthfulness to the “Maximum Tact” setting. He sat in his little office adjacent to the grand council chamber, elbows propped on his cheap flat-pack desk, which had taken ages to assemble, even with magic. He had a perfectly serviceable computer, but minutes were always hand-written on artisan thistledown paper using indelible blue-black ink.


The enchanted goose-feather Quill hovered above the paper before placing three perfectly formed dots after the carefully drafted opening sentence, though the ellipses hardly did justice to the council's debate...


It had all started benignly - an acknowledgement of all present, a blessing to the Great Earth Mother, then Jennifair, Chief Administrator to the Council and second-in-command to the national witches’ coven, outlined the purpose of the meeting.


“Your Supremenesses, the Overcouncil of All-source Magic Users has requested us to find a fit-for-purpose, gender appropriate title which reflects the inclusivity of our craft and devotion to the Great Mother.”


It had all sounded so straightforward, Threadspanner reflected, until Supreme Witch, Grizelda, had invited Chief Warlock, Gimbalscrew, to outline the proposals he’d requested to be tabled at the meeting.


The Quill had not recorded Gimbalscrew’s opening statement. Possibly because the phrase “It’s time you old hags let go of the past and embraced the twenty-first century” was beyond its tact threshold.


Nor had the Quill recorded Grizelda’s response – “Easy for you to say, you patriarchal control freak; we’re still regretting coming into the twentieth century when we allowed you onto the Council of Witches.”


A free and frank discussion ensued…


Fiddleclamp, second-in-command of the Warlocks then spoke up. Though Threadspanner was sure he hadn’t intended to pour oil on the fire by invoking the Magical Users Equality Act of 1975, which had unified the Warlocks’ (male only) “Society for Logical and Practical Wisdoms” with the Witches’ (female-only) “Sisterhood of Compassion and Common Sense”.


“Why did you not join the Wizards back then, they’d have welcomed you into their gentleman’s club!” Grizelda grumbled.


“Because our magic comes from the Mother, not from arcane rituals.”


“Huh, the Mother’s magic is women’s magic. YOU usurped it!”


“My dear lady, can you even imagine a being as powerful as the Mother allowing anything to be usurped?” Gimbalscrew might have gotten away with it if he hadn’t accompanied his words with a sneer and a heel-clicking bow.

“You patronising…MAN!” Grizelda stood up, the force of her movement pushing the heavy, extravagantly carved oak Chairwitch’s throne back several feet.


Fiddleclamp had attempted to bring them back on topic. “Please, this may not be ancient history, but it is old news. May we move on to the issue of the new, ahem, nomenclature?”


“Yes, Grizelda, as I said, you witches really need to let go of the past.”


The Quill quivered again. Threadspanner excitedly looked down, had the Quill found a tactful truth it could actually record?


A further frank discussion ensued…


Maybe, Threadspanner reflected, if someone had come up with a truly unique name, they might have settled the argument. But Gimbalscrew’s suggestion that from now on, Warlocks and Witches should have a non-gender specific title was not well received.


“WarlockXY?” Grizelda said. “That’s ridiculous, why not WitchXY or Witchman?”


“Because the whole point of a new name is to recognise Warlocks as equal!”


“But you’re not equal, the vast majority of us are female, why should we adopt your name?”


“Why should we adopt yours? We are men of wisdom, not weird old biddies who play around with herbs and stroke their cats all day! We can make the Mother the greatest of all magic sources. We can make people worship her!”


“The Mother…” Grizelda's voice was dark and passionate, “does not want…” she punctuated her words with complex hand gestures which caused sparks to fly between her fingers, “...or need worship, she wants us to SERVE not to dominate!”


Threadspanner would always wonder whether Gimbalscrew had known that Grizelda had won the All-comers Fireball Hurling Championship a hundred years in a row. He must have done, why else would he have worn fireproof robes? But there was no saving his long beard which shrivelled into stinking shreds as the fireball singed the hair.


“This is a disciplinary matter!” he yelled, while frantically beating out the last of the small flames.


“So it is. I suggest you bring the matter to the Supreme Witch. Oh, that would be me. I find ‘reasonable cause’. Case dismissed!” Grizelda pronounced, unrepentant.


Which should really have given Gimbalscrew a big clue of how things would end when he launched his famous ‘intimate itch’ hex at the Supreme Witch. Grizelda was powerful, so it was hardly surprising that the hex rebounded from her shield and hit Fiddleclamp. Within seconds, the hapless warlock had tucked his robes between his legs and appeared to be indulging in The Floss, the latest dance craze, while desperately trying to exit the chamber.


Each side presented robust arguments in favour of their proposed solutions…


“Very well, what other proposals do we have?” Grizelda had asked.


“If I may, I have searched for gender neutral names and adapted them into collective nouns, I’m sure even a fussy fuddy-duddy like you will find one you like.” Gimbalscrew handed her his iPad.


The Adelaiers

The Revelators

The Brooksonians

The Gentry (Note: check approved usage with the Council of the Fae)

The Franciscans (Note: Christian association - ?acceptable in Pagan circles)


Threadspanner recalled the profound and blessed silence that had fallen over the council chamber, then…


“What a load of old Bol...Warlocks!” Grizelda had roared.


“What a load of old Witches, that’s spelt with a B!” Gimbalscrew had roared back. After which, the meeting dissolved into chaos.


The Quill of Truthfulness moved smoothly over the paper.


Council members were unable to reach a consensus…

 

Alex Grehy (she/her) is inspired by the natural world around her, her imagination making unique connections expressed in vivid prose and thought-provoking poetry. Her work has been published worldwide by publishers including Luna Station Quarterly, Gwyllion, The Sirens Call and Short Edition.

 

Image credit: monstera

Comments


bottom of page