A year without saints.

The Coven Wheel of the Year does not follow any divine calendar.
Nineteen festivals mark the cycle – each of these nights distorts a familiar ritual, desecrates a symbol, breaks a law.
What others celebrate as light, we transform into embers and shadows.
It is not a cycle of the year. It is a cycle of fire, blood, and silence.

WELCOME TO THE ERA OF BLOOD AND SILENCE.

The third Festival in the Coven Year.
While others place ashes on their heads to ask for forgiveness,
The Kult sets fire to the wounds in order to remember.

Funeral of Fire is not a day for regret,
but a silent ritual for what burned –
and for that which must never stop burning.

We do not believe in atonement,
only the cycle of flame and decay.
What others extinguish, we reignite.
until every guilt is transformed back into embers.

Here the fire ends – and at the same time begins again.
An ash cross, worn upside down.
A declaration of love for the flame.
A funeral made of light.

Welcome to Funeral of Fire.

They say that a temple made of white stone once stood on this spot.
When he fell, only smoke remained – and those who continued to breathe in the smoke.

Among them was a woman.
On her forehead lay a cross of ash, but she turned it upside down.
not out of spite, but to show,
that everything holy must have burned first.

With each breath, she drew traces in the dust,
and soon all who followed her wore
The mark where there used to be wounds.

When the embers died down,
The ground itself had become a sea of ​​ash –
And in that silence she spoke:

"The ashes are not the end –"
She is what remains if everything was true.

Then she went into the night,
and left nothing but a flickering glow,
which has not faded to this day.

Thus ends the third festival.
No prayer. No forgiveness.
Only the soft breathing of the fire,
He knows that every light eventually kneels.