Dragon Faery Witch

testimony. roughly 3 hours later, i slept and woke in the middle of the night to a text from someone who ordered from my small business, who paid immediately :') a few days later, my aunt deposited me some money for allowance about the same amount (thank you, auntie). customers in my business increased but also not as stressful for me. more monetary opportunities came my way, though i did not say "yes" to most of them.

WHAT IS AN ALTAR TO THE SELF?

This temple can be created from a very wide variety of items, but most often includes things that are meaningful or attractive to the person. For me, this includes crystals, trinkets, bones, flowers and herbs, pictures or drawings, sigils, and salt or ash. My friend also has a little statue that represents him, self-affirmations, and a devotional jar of beads in his.

I was introduced to this idea as not just something to help improve my self-confidence, but also as a way of shaping my future self. Each crystal will have its own meaning or trait that I'm is hoping to embody, and I can move them closer or further away depending on what I need more in the moment.

And even if you didn't care for a spell like this, from a psychology standpoint, this absolutely seems like it could be a productive exercise--especially if you're a more visual person.

HOW TO MAKE THE ALTAR

For this I'll introduce two different methods, one that I employed, and one that my friend employed.

My method:

Start with your favorite color(s) and maybe even an aesthetic (like cottage-core, dark academia, etc.)

Choose items that represent those colors or aesthetics, for me this would be green, pink, or purple crystals, naturey trinkets, and drawings that combine the two

Include things of great importance to you, even if they don't fit in the aesthetic, and try to make them look right

Arrange everything in a visually appealing way (I'll give some examples of this later)

But what my friend did was kind of the opposite, building the altar from the top down with things that were important to him, and just making it look good from there.

You've probably noticed that I make a big deal about the visual appearance of this altar, which is on purpose. I believe that it is of great importance this altar is appealing to you, since it's supposed to represent you, and it's supposed to represent your interests. If you don't really care as much about things being artistic or aesthetic, that's okay! As long as you can look at it and go, "Yeah, that's the vibe, that's what I want for myself," then you've done it right.

You can also add things like sigils, salt, or ash for an added layer of protection or a "boost" to the magic aspect, which I've added to mine. I also really like bones and don't have anywhere else to put them, so I add those, and I'll throw in some lavender to the salt since that's my favorite herb to use in workings.

WHY CREATE AN ALTAR?

Have you ever felt tired of being subservient to the whims of some external force, of waiting for things to happen rather than getting to decide that for yourself? If you do, this might be for you.

And it's not that this is supposed to snub or push aside worship of actual deities (I mean it can but it doesn't have to), but add to it. Think about it, most of us already have a self-care routine, something sacred to us, that we may even dedicate to our gods. All this altar is meant to do is add to that, to create a holiness to self-love and self-care.

The ultimate purpose of this exercise is to manifest the things you want in life, to design your future self, and combat the helplessness many of us feel when things start to change. It's meant to feed your energy, to form a conduit between you and something physical (which is helpful for those of us that dissociate often).

It is not meant to feed some heretical "fuck you" to the gods or the universe, rather give these forces a framework or "checklist" of things you want. At the end of the day, this is more similar to a spell than making yourself a deity that you want other people to worship.

On the surface, it seemed coherent. February is a month of biting frost, a liminal, almost chthonic time where the earth remains a frozen tomb. Veles, the Great Below, the Lord of the Underworld and hidden wisdom, seemed like the perfect patron for this dead period.

But something gnawed at me. Why this sudden, collective certainty that February belongs to him?

My research suggests that "Veles Day" is a relatively fresh construct—a product of Russian neopagan circles that was "announced" around 2017. It migrated to Poland as a cultural import only around 2021. For the past few years, we have observed an incredible "boom" in everything Slavic and "primordial."

Perhaps it sounds hypocritical coming from a pagan who honors the Old Gods and seeks contact with ancestral spirits, but this rapid enthusiasm breeds caution in me. Why? Because where "fashion" and the desire for quick spiritual gratification begin, the honest search for truth often ends. We risk replacing genuine history with "packaged" traditions and misinformation.

The Perun Problem: Pseudo-Linguistics in Service of Faith

Before Veles dominated our February feeds, a different theory was popular among enthusiasts of "easily digestible Slavdom": the idea that February belongs to Perun.

Before Veles dominated social media, there was another candidate for February: Perun. The logic was dangerously simple. Someone associated the "Thunderer" with the Gromnica—the long, blessed candles used in folk tradition (Matka Boska Gromniczna / Candlemas) to protect homes from the destructive power of storms (grom).

Enthusiasts tried to "scrape off" the Christian paint, assuming that underneath they would find "Pure Perun." If the candle is a gromnica, and grom means thunder, then the day must belong to the God of Thunder. However, folk tradition tells a different story. In the countryside, these candles were used primarily to ward off wolves,protection against lightning and fires and protect the dying.

Does that sound like the warrior-god Perun? Not quite. This is wishful thinking—an attempt to fill a calendar with attractive dates while ignoring the multi-layered reality of folk symbols.

Is "Veles Day" any different? Is it just another example of "filling in the blanks" by moderns who need an attractive calendar of events? To answer that, we must ask: where did this "unfortunate" February come from in the context of Veles? Is there a figure in folk ritual who actually inherited his legacy? And most importantly—is there another force, another figure, who fits the capricious West Slavic February far better than the Lord of the Underworld?

The Great Schism and the Mediavals Colonialism of Slavs

To solve the mystery of Veles in February, we first have to look at the 'cultural colonialism' of the Middle Ages. Medieval Slavdom was a battlefield between two Christian giants: Rome (the Latin West) and Byzantium (the Greek East).

The Great Schism of 1054 merely legalized a divide that had existed for centuries. This wasn't just a mission of "good news"; it was a brutal race for soft power. Each side wanted to impose its langue of liturgy, its calendar, and most importantly, its pantheon of saints. This created two different cultural filters:

The West (Roman-Catholic): Poland, Czechia, Slovakia, Croatia, Slovenia

The East (Orthodox): Russia, Ukraine, Belarus, Bulgaria, Serbia.

The missionaries were "religious partisans." They had to deal with stubborn locals who wouldn't give up their old gods. So, they "rebranded" them. But because the languages and alphabets differed, they created "linguistic monsters" that confuse us to this day.

The Mystery of Saint Blaise: From Vlasios to Vlas

This brings us to Saint Blaise and the phenomenon known as itacism in the Greek language.

In Ancient Greek, the letter β(beta) was a hard "B." Over time, its pronunciation shifted toward a "V" sound (the "vita" pronunciation). When Byzantine missionaries reached the Eastern Slavs, the Greek name Blasios was pronounced as Vlasios. In Old Church Slavonic, this naturally became Vlas or Vlasiy.

For an Eastern Slav and part of South Slavs who had worshipped a god named Veles for centuries, the phonetic similarity to "Vlas" was striking. The missionaries didn't fight the cult; they "repackaged" it. Veles was the "Cattle God," the protector of livestock and wealth. What did they do with St. Vlas in the East? They made him the patron of domestic animals. On Orthodox icons, he is often surrounded by cows, horses, and sheep. It was a genius marketing move: "You can still pray for your cows, just address your prayers to St. Vlas now."

In the West, the story was entirely different. The Western Slavs (Poles, Czechs) and part of South Slavs (Croats, Slovenians) were baptized in the Latin rite and remained loyal to Rome. They kept the hard "B." Thus, we have Błażej (PL), Błażyj (SZL) Blažej (CZ/SK) or Blaž(HR/SL). Furthermore, in Roman Catholic tradition, St. Blaise became a specialist in... throat diseases, based on a legend about saving a boy choking on a fishbone.

Conclusion: Conclusion: In West Slavs, St. Blaise never served as a "replacement Veles." If a cow stopped giving milk, a Polish peasants didn't go to Blaise; they went to other saints or used local charms. Therefore, transplanting the "Day of Veles" to Poland based on the date of St. Blaise is a mistake. It is an attempt to recreate a Russian model of Christianization in a place where the process was fundamentally different.

Fun Fact: The name Barbara is pronounced Bar-ba-ra by Poles and Czechs, but Var-va-ra by Russians and Ukrainians. Keep this shift in mind!

Saint Blaise or Veles? Othodox: Let's bring them both together!

February: A Month of Liminal Chaos

The matter is complicated further by the calendar. Before Christianization, Slavs relied on vegetative cycles rather than a standardized calendar. This created a confusing overlap in February where three major points of reference—The Thunder Candle, The Meeting of the Lord and St. Blaise—collide:

Feb 2: Our Lady of the Thunder Candle / Hromnice (Folkish Catholicism in PL/CZ/SK).

Feb 3: St. Blaise (Roman Catholicism).

Feb 11/24: St. Blaise (Orthodox, depending on Julian/Gregorian calendar).

Feb 2/15: The Meeting of the Lord (Candlemas in Orthodoxy on Gregorian/Julian calendar).

Feb 2: The Meeting of the Lord (Roman Catholicism)

Christianization was not always about fire and the sword; it was often a subtle, local modification. Missionaries in remote Slavic regions didn't have a global "database" of strategies. While their colleagues in the British Isles were famously turning the goddess Brigid into St. Brigid, those in the Slavic East were performing their own religious "guerrilla warfare." They had to negotiate with the locals "here and now," resulting in a patchwork of beliefs that differs wildly from one Slavic nation to another. There was no top-down flat coming from/down Rome/Byzantium, because letters simply took a long time to travel (if they reached any at all, because the postman could always be attacked, and a pigeon could end up as someone's dinner).

This brings us to a figure who fits February in Western Slavdom much better than the Lord of the Underworld: Devana.

Devana: The One Who Carries the Light

In the darkest moment, when the granaries are emptying and hope for spring is fragile, a figure appears with a thunder candle. In many regions, the "Gromniczna" Mary is not a humble virgin, but a powerful figure who tames wolves. In parts of Bulgaria, she is even called the "Wolf Mother of God." She repels them with the light of a candle.

Matka Boska Gromniczna

"(...)od wszystkiego złego, od tego co wiesz dom nasz i rodzinę w dzień i w nocy strzeż matuś moja matuś jak obrazek śliczna matuś moja matuś Matko Boska Gromniczna Matko Boska Gromniczna

od nieszczęść i zbrodni i od sił nieczystych od pożaru, śnieżycy od gradu i wilków(...)"

Polish folk Marian song

Crucially, the traditional wick for a gromnica was made from a plant called Dziewanna (Mullein). Is this a coincidence? I doubt it. Mullein is a plant with strong medicinal and magical properties. Its dried stalk, dipped in tallow, served as a natural torch. In English, it is even called "Hag’s Taper" or "Candlewick Plant."

A Slavic Imbolc?

February in Central Europe is notoriously fickle. A Polish proverb says: "Zwykle luty ostro kuty, czasem luty same pluty" ("February is usually sharply shod with frost, but sometimes it’s all slush").

I dare to propose a theory: Goddess Devana (Dziewanna) shares a common root with the Celtic Brigid. Before ethnic purists protest, remember that Slavic and Celtic tribes lived in close proximity for centuries in what is now Poland, West Ukrainian and Czechia. Tribal societies didn't have modern concepts of "ethnos"; they exchanged ideas, stories, and deities as readily as they traded amber or iron. The Slavs inherited a deep layer of culture from their contact with the Celts.

Brigid by Christina Mrozik

Devana by Andrey Tsepkov

Morana and Devana: A Cycle of Transformation, Not Murder

There is another link between Dziewanna and Brigid. In Celtic myth, the Cailleach (crone) and Brigid (maiden) are sometimes seen as two sides of the same coin. Some researchers see Dziewanna and Marzanna as rivals, but what if they are the same force in different phases?

Christian chroniclers like Jan Długosz were "intellectually lazy." They wanted everything to fit Greek/Roman models. They saw a goddess of grain? Call her Ceres (Marzanna/Morana). They saw a goddess of the woods? Call her Diana (Dziewanna/Devana). They missed the point of the ritual. Drowning or burning Marzanna wasn't an execution; it was a release of energy. Fire and water are purifying. The anger and noise of the ritual served as a catharsis. To break the ice of a long, starving winter, you need a strong emotion. Nothing melts frost better than the "holy rage" of a community demanding life.

They missed the point of the ritual. Drowning Marzanna wasn't an execution; it was a release of energy. Fire and water are purifying. To break the ice of a long winter, you need "holy rage." When Marzanna is drowned, the village brings back a green branch (maik, latećko or gaik). In some Polish regions, this green branch was literally called "Dziewanna." ( (I trust that speakers of other Slavic languages will pardon my reliance on Polish names.)

The Christian intellectuals, with their linear view of time (Birth ➔ Life➔ Death ➔ Judgment), couldn't grasp the cyclic nature of pagan thought. To them, a goddess who dies as a crone only to be reborn as a girl was a logical impossibility. For a "pagan," a deity is like nature: For a "pagan," a deity is like nature: cyclical, sometimes cruel, sometimes nurturing, sometimes old, sometimes young, sometimes wild.

Kostroma and Maslenitsa: The Wild Laughter of the East

While the West focuses on the "purity" of the maiden/crone shift, the Eastern Slavic tradition offers a much more chaotic and exuberant transition: Maslenitsa and the enigmatic figure of Kostroma.

Kostroma is the Eastern cousin of our Marzanna, but she is far more ambivalent. In folk rituals, she is often a straw effigy—sometimes a bride, sometimes a reveler. The ritual follows a mock-funeral: Kostroma is celebrated, then she "dies" (mourned with ironic, loud laughter), and finally, she is torn apart, drowned, or burned.

But here is the key difference: Kostroma’s "death" is often followed by her "resurrection" in the grain. She isn't a demon of frost to be banished; she is the spirit of fertility that must die to fertilize the soil. This aligns perfectly with the Eastern climate—where the winter is a cruel, long stasis that can only be broken by a violent explosion of joy and grease (Maślenica).

The Burial of Kostroma

But here again, we must raise the issue of differences between regions. The East didn't "drink beer with the Celts" as much as the West did, but they instinctively understood the same mechanism: the old form must be destroyed for the new energy to be born. Whether it is through the quiet candle of the West or the wild laughter of the East, the core remains: The sacrifice of the old version of life is what feeds the new.

But here again we must raise the issue of differences between regions!!!

Rural Pragmatism vs. Modern Dogma

The peasant didn't care about the theology of "The Presentation of the Lord." On this day we celebrate Стрітення (Striteniye), which literally means "The Meeting." While the Church understands it as the meeting between Christ and Simeon, the villagers — stubborn as they are — know better: for them, it's where Winter meets Spring! If there is a thaw, spring will be early. If it stays frozen, winter will be long. There is a Belarusian saying: „На громни́цы напьётся петух води́цы” (Jak na Hramnicy piewień napjecca wadzicy, to na Jurja woł padjeść trawicy.[If a rooster drinks water on Candlemas, an ox will eat grass on St. George’s Day]). Here, people also made the thunder candles and tried to protect themselves from wolves.

A Jesuit priest wrote in 1768 that this holiday was established to counteract a "pagan festival... dedicated to deities of the underworld, accompanied by the lighting of torches." He got his geography and chronology a bit mixed up, but he left us a clue: there was a deity or another being of cycles — life, death, and rebirth — here long before him. Even the Church admitted that they were trying to overwrite a festival of light and transformation.

Conclusion: Critical Thinking in Modern Slavic Paganism

Slavic lands were never a monolith. The climate of the West is milder, dominated by deciduous forests and signs of spring appear faster.. The East is harsher, a land of taiga and forest-steppes. It makes sense that their gods and dates would differ.

Perhaps, instead of proudly announcing "Veles Day" because we saw it on a Russian forum, we should look at the climate that actually surrounds us. We should look for the first sparks of light reminding us that winter is not eternal.