Peggy Sue Goes to Imbolc: A Midlife Supernaturals Short by T.J. Deschamps

I held my daughters' hands tightly as we trudged through the fresh snow toward the gathering. My heart pounded - our first Imbolc with Miriam's coven since leaving Georgia. We hadn't properly celebrated since fleeing our old coven, and I worried my girls might have forgotten the observances.

"Mama, look!" my youngest whispered, pointing to where smoke curled up through branches. Golden light flickered on torches between the trees ahead, beckoning us forward.

We emerged into a clearing where witches from both covens had gathered - Rosemary and Oleander. At the center stood a massive pile of branches, twigs, and logs that reached toward the stars. I spotted Miriam near the unlit bonfire, her antlers wreathed in snowdrops, early spring flowers. Jada stood beside her mother, both their faces painted with the traditional markings of the triple goddess.

Rhiannon and Daystar emerged from the shadows of the trees, their dark robes dusted with snow. They carried special offering of stones blessed in moonlight. Daystar's brothers followed close behind, bringing more bundles of wood for the sacred fire.

Shirom approached me, her face painted with spiraling blue designs that seemed to move in the firelight. "Welcome, sister. You're just in time for the blessing."

I guided my girls into the circle forming around the pile. It had been years since I used my fire witch gift. My heart thudded in my ears as I approached the woodpile.  The aroma of dry wood mixed with the crisp air.  Reaching to my light within to draw upon it, the familiar warmth of my magic spread to my limbs. Sparks at my fingertips was all I could muster. 

A tiny voice inside asked, What if I caused harm? 

A comforting hand touched my shoulder. Miriam's voice whispered softly, "Don't be afraid of your power. Your magic is a part of you and has served as protection for your children. Honor your strength as well as Brigid."

With that, I was alone again, but not. All those gathered didn't think of me as a firebug or dangerous. Their belief in me bolstered mine.

Flames danced on my hands. Soon the woodpile was burning and crackling with it. 

Hands cooled, I returned to my daughters and the circle. My grip on their small hands firm and confident as Miriam and Jada stepped forward together, raising their arms. Rhiannon joined them, completing the trinity of maiden, mother, and crone. Their voices twined together in Kairska, our ancient tongue - each with its own character but forming a perfect harmony. The language was a living thing. 

Magic pricked my skin as they said the words as one,"Blessed Brigid, guardian of hearth and forge, we welcome your return! As you kindle the fires of spring, so too do we kindle hope in our hearts."

The gathered witches approached the fire one by one to cast in their offerings. Jada tossed in sprigs of fresh herbs from Miriam's faerie garden, their scent sharp and sweet in the cold air. Rhiannon and Daystar placed their crystals in a circle around the fire's base, where they began to pulse with an inner light. When our turn came, I helped my daughters forward. They carefully placed their bundles of dried rosemary into the flames.

As the offerings burned, I felt the shift in the air. The fire suddenly blazed higher, its orange flames turning a brilliant white-gold. In its depths, I saw a woman's face crowned with flames, her eyes filled with starlight. Miriam gasped softly beside me - I knew she saw it too. Rhiannon gripped both their hands, forming an unbroken circle of power. The vision lasted only a moment before the fire returned to normal, leaving us all breathless.

Shirom caught my eye and smiled knowingly. "Brigid walks among us tonight. The goddess has blessed this gathering."

After the ceremony, we shared food and drink as the children played in the snow and the older witches exchanged stories and spells. I watched my daughters playing with the other young witches while Miriam told stories of Imbolc celebrations from her own coven and in faerie--we witches had the ascended goddess in common with the fae. Even mundanes called her Saint Brigid in their rebranded version of her. Rhiannon and Daystar led the younger witches in songs of spring awakening, their voices carrying through the clear night air. Their faces glowed with joy and wonder in the firelight.

For the first time since we fled, I felt truly at peace. Here, under the winter stars with my new sisters, I had finally found my place and could put the past behind me. As the celebration continued around me, I silently thanked both Brigid and Miriam for giving us this gift - not just a new coven, but a true home. Also, I could no longer fear using my gift. For that, I was grateful.

The fire burned until dawn, when the first rays of sun painted the snow-covered mountains gold. As we departed, each of us carried a coal from the sacred fire to light our hearth fires for the coming spring. I carefully wrapped mine in cloth, knowing this flame would bless our home with Brigid's protection until the wheel of the year turned again. Ahead of me on the path, I watched Miriam and Jada walking arm in arm with Rhiannon between them, their voices raised in an old witch's blessing song. Daystar and his brothers followed, gathering herbs awakened by the sacred fire. Their melody carried on the morning wind, welcoming the returning spring.

Peggy Sue will be having her own series soon! To read Peggy Sue's arrival in the Midlife Supernaturals world, read Eastside Coven 

Copyright 2025 T.J. Deschamps and Witch Works Publishing, LLC.