Magical Fiction – Under a Pagan Moon by Diana L. Creaturo

Magical Fiction - Under a Pagan Moon by Diana L. Creaturo


Samhain, 1563
Goddess of the Moon, the Hunt and Birthing


As the wheel of the Year turns towards the New Year, the most sacred day of the year for Pagans, I look down from my silvery seat on the moon and watch the hunt. But I see that the hunt is different . All over the world, people are being hunted for what they believe, no fair trials, only convictions. I do not know how to begin to protect. Grasping my bow and arrow, I listen to the intentions they send me, as a New Moon rises high in the sky. As the Pagans light their candles at their altars, chanting and honoring those who have passed before them, I wish that they do not become part of the souls who will depart this earth; due to ignorance and fear. The veil between the two worlds will be thin for the next two days and I can feel the energy all around me. As I tilt my bow and arrow heaven ward, I hope the small stream of light can be a symbol of hope, that this will end, so that the Sabbats can be celebrated freely.



Haddingtonshire, Scotland
(Also known as East Lothian)
Coastal Town of Dunbar, South-East Coast of Scotland

The coastal town of Dunbar tells the story of a village taken over by a witch-hunt enforced by Bishop Branduff.

Branduff a cheat, liar, thief and ruthless man who runs the Parishes of Spott, including that of the Church of the Resurrection; has sent out his Witchprickers to examine the bodies of anyone deemed guilty of witchcraft throughout the town.

If anyone is known to have the markings of the devil, they will be tried and put to death.

It is up to the village to save as many innocent victims they can. As they come together, they encounter doubts, fears, lust, love, and the religious turmoil all around them. Calling upon the Moon Goddess for help to defeat Bishop Branduff. They hope to prove that the power of different religions can come together to bring down a common enemy.


~Church Yard~


Church of the Resurrection

Bishop Branduff

Be alert and of sober mind.  Your enemy the devil

Prowls around like a roaring lion for someone to devour

Peter 5:8


He stood by the small pond in the graveyard of the church. Most of the villagers hated him, they called him “Black Raven”, which was rumored to be the meaning of his name.

He stood larger than life, his long dark crimson robe slowly rippled in the wind. His jet-black hair slicked back and shiny. His eyes as dark as the night’s sky devoid of stars, were like tiny slits. One could never tell what he was thinking. His mustache was thin and wiry, its thin pointy tips curled up at the corners. His beard was thin and long covering the sharp line of his face.  It came to a fine pointed tip at the end. Tall, with lanky limbs and long thin fingers on his bony hands. The veins visible, red, and blue, through his transparent skin. When he smiled a row of straight white teeth would appear under his thin blood red lips.

A dark sinister laugh began to bellow up from the pit of his stomach. The sound echoed in the graveyard. He was throwing something in the pond. When he was done, he slowly turned around, as he began to walk back towards the church, he stopped and kicked over a head stone of one of the older graves, laughing as he did.