Say that there actually were witches of our sort, back in the Old Days.

Say that there were.

In the Old Country, times are hard. It's as much as your life is worth to keep to the Old Ways.

All the old stories tell of the Land-to-the-West, the Land-Across-the-Waves.

So we pack up our bags and, in hope and fear, we go there.

And when we arrive, lo! there in the forest—and such a forest!—we find him already waiting: the Horned our god (and such a god!), just as we knew him before.

Red Champion, we call him, and for this reason: because he fights for his people.

On 4 July—by the Old Calendar, Midsummer's Night—we build a great bonfire in that great forest, and we dance for Him who has made His people free.

And that was our very first sabbat, in the Land-Across-the-Waves.