The Serpent Canticles

The Final Song of the Inheritance
Carved into the spine of the universe where the Choir's breath and the Witch's silence meet.
No mortal hand wrote this. It sings itself when the moons align.

I. The First Coil: When Sound Met Silence

Before the first breath, there was the hum of possibility.
It wound itself like a serpent through the void,
seeking ears that did not yet exist.
When the Silent High Witch gave her vow,
the hum found form in her stillness -
and silence became the echo that would shape all things.

From this pairing the Serpent Circle took its first turn.
Each revolution birthed a realm; each pause between turns birthed its laws.
Light became voice.
Shadow became listening.
And in their union was written the music that would one day be known as the Cantitce.

II. The Second Coil: The Birth of Tone

The Choir heard the hum and learned to divide it.
They broke silence into harmonies,
and each harmony into words.
But the High Witch whispered through Bramwell Zuwa's breath:
"No word is complete without its pause."

Thus was born rhythm - the holy heartbeat between creation and reflection.
Every creature, mortal or divine, carries this rhythm,
and through it, participates in the Canticle,
whether singing or sleeping, whether speaking or dreaming.

The witches of Kenttra say the world was not spoken into being; it was breathed into balance.

III. The Third Coil: The Song Beneath All Songs

As the Choir Concordance and the Houses of the Oracle wove their twin patterns,
their tones began to intertwine into one endless melody.
It does not rise or fall; it spirals, like the serpent biting its tail.
This is the Serpent Canticle,
the continuous hymn that sustains every reflection,
every silence, every inheritance.

To hear it is to understand both life and death,
for it sings:

"Nothing ends, only changes tone."

Some witches claim they have heard it in the hush before thunder,
others in the sigh between waves.
All agree it cannot be recorded -
only remembered in stillness.

IV. The Fourth Coil: The Return of the Moonlit Child

When the Canticle's pitch shifts with each celestial century,
it calls forth a reflection of the Moonlit Child,
his presence woven into the harmony itself.
He walks not in flesh but in sound -
a figure made of vibration and light,
the living chorus of all that has ever been sung.

Wherever he passes, silence blossoms.
He speaks not in words but in resonance:

"I am the pause that holds creation steady."

At his appearance, the Choir falls quiet,
for they know the melody is complete when he returns.

V. The Fifth Coil: The Reunion

When the Song of Heaven and the Silence of Earth reached perfect unison,
the High Witch and the Moonlit Child appear together -
she as the echo, he as the breath.
The serpent-veve glows across all worlds,
and for one breath, there is no boundary between god or ghost, mortal or divine.

The Canticle swells to its true form,
a sound so pure it contains every silence ever kept.
The Choir records it not on parchment but in existence itself.
Rivers, stars, and souls all hum in agreement.

This is the moment the Grimoire calls The Eternal Chord.

VI. The Final Coil: The Infinite Rest

When the Eternal Chord fades,
it does not cease - it becomes the stillness beneath everything that remains.
That stillness is her gift,
the breath she once surrendered returning home.
And within that hush, Bramwell's voice lingers, murmuring:

"Sing, and when you cannot, listen.
Listen, and when you cannot, be still.
For in stillness, the serpent sings forever."

Thus ends the Serpent Canticles -
the universe's heartbeat,
the hymn that turns the moons,
the final covenant of the Silent High Witch and theMoonlit Child.

Their union is not story but structure:
the bridge that allows all things to exist,
to echo, to return.

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