So she was running through the darkest corridors and starlit halls to find any door or dead end, a sound or complete silence, beginning or quietus; suddenly streams of unknown light raised and floated her in the air over the glaring tunnel, wakening her from the most hopeless sleep ever, making her heart beat again like bursts of thunder outside. May she ascend from that mistful sleep, from human illusions, needless hopes and lurking fears; the first epiphany for this mortal coil shall overshadow all the ephemeral things.
When autumn 2004 C.E. brought the 31st October night and bleak winds blew dust off the secret spells, she, whose name is Aina, collected them as youthful coven, hight Blackthorn, under the arches of the dramatic phrontistery. May their force be reflected in the mirrors of twilight melodies; magic shall turn to the music full of symphonic chaos, opening gothic portals to shining worlds that levitate above the black surface of times; they wear diadem of thorns – cold as metal and grimly sharp in their splendor. Give them a voice that can reach empyrean and come down to pandemonium, then let their tales of sorcery & inner will be replete with bestial screams in memory of those who died on a growling pyre of earthborn hebetude, and now slumber in their clouded graves.
It was a silent winter of 2007 C.?. when those five witches left an umbrageous grove and performed the very first act on the stage of spiniferous theatre; the demonstration record of music for dead and living once, named «The Prologue of Eschaton», strange & unearthly, spreading eschatological ideas, cast the masses down into the vortex of adoration and hate. That work consisted of three parts, each a special night-piece in itself, enrapturing with the atmosphere of northern forests, forbidding saturnine coppices, silent will-o’-the-wisps and cryptic fire inside the veins of sons and daughters of Man.
Time flew like a sable ominous raven; subtile charms of the Blackthorn Alliance thickened, inexorably captivated human beings and engirded an ancient tenebrocity. Whispers went round that the sorceresses plugged away day in and day out behind the voiceless walls of their hidden chambers, creating new incantation; and indeed, 2008 ?.E. went by, cold & frost came to the land again, and Blackthorn revealed their first full length corpus titled «Gossamer Witchcraft». Every page of this euterpean grimoire is a part of bloodcurdling journey through the realm of vibrant shades under gaunt arbors’ claws to the end of the world, where a new effulgent heart shall be put inside your chest; a symbol of the opus is daedal cobweb, whose lines keep eldest wisdom and reflect fatality and fragility of mankind at the same time… …And who knows the future, what wistful soothsayers and prophets can say what will happen later?
One way or another, they are together, gazing inward themselves and into the distance; they are: Aina – a wandering elemental who can show you the right way between grey swamplands or lead you astray forevermore, Elvira - an alchemist witch, making potions & elixirs in her past life and creating somber music nowadays, Freya – a daughter of red-emerald flame, lurking behind the black and white petals of the body she use to play, Greta – the one who’s dwelling on the lychgate, adust & taciturn, and Varaska – an unsane nightmare hailing from eternal winter dominion. From now till doomsday they are fated to go one path, the path of chaos to commune with the lambent force of the Universe.

Source : http://www.myspace.com/blackthornian