Somer-Bayn Þe Wycce.

Bright morning to ye, mortals! While digging through some of mine old manuscripts, looking for treasure-lore, I happened upon one that gave me quite a laugh. Summersbane—so named for his hatred of & war against Summer—enjoys popularity now-a-days, as he battles against the terrifying tide of climate change. But ‘twas not always so!

Centuries ago, with Winters more harsh & Summers more pleasant, he were seen as a foul nuisance! Peasants & priests alike blamed him for short Summers, or unseasonable cold. Some e’en produced warning-pages, like this one, targeting him as “Somer-Bayn Þe Wycce.”

I recall once a particularly persistent abbot tracked Summersbane all across Europe, chasing him from Cornwall to Cologne. Brave, foolish, & altogether misguided, the abbot waited for Summersbane to leave his room on wizardly business, then snuck inside. In the darkness, he prayed for courage, & gripped a silver-plated dagger—no cheap tchotchke, that. Summersbane, of course, were fully aware; he let the abbot stew there for a few hours, then shadow-stepped back into the room, appearing behind the would-be witch-hunter.

Then the abbot whirled about, dagger flashing in the star-light, stabbing & screaming, while Summersbane laughed & laughed. He took the dagger, & a year off the poor man’s life, then cursed him—with knowledge. Dreadful knowledge of thy modern world, & the dire heating of a dying planet. He returned to his abbey in Cornwall, fore’er changed, & ne’er again sought battle with any “wycce.”

Thank ye for reading! & we humbly thank that growing clan of mortals who can & do support our works here with coin! GRATIAS!

I shall write ye come Wednesday with news of our next episode! Til then: be safe, be well, & may ye ne’er fight an abbot in the dark…

Cheers,
Amœnus Franco
Wizard, Writer, Wycce