Anámesa served another purpose, one which crafted its image. It was the method Hecate and the Lampads used to traverse the lands. All looking upon it would see a dirt track, lined with trees, overlooking an orchard. This path for Hecate opened to any location, and so could be witnessed by places near and far. The image had become a tale of horror.
On moonless nights, when evil was at its strongest, those walking the path would recount stories. Tales of twisted corpses, suspended in grotesque positions from tree boughs, and the wind carrying the tortured moans of the dead. But the cries were not of the haunted souls who hung dead upon the darkened orchard trees, but of those beyond it. Those who still lived, imprisoned by the Moirai.
Those who gazed long enough upon the orchard of swingin
