Tribute by Sator Wry
At this time of year, we reflect on those we have lost, the impact they had and continue to have in our own lives. In August we lost Sator Syzygy, known to the outside world as Nikki Wyrd. Since then, I have tried many times to put that loss into words. To express the twin feelings of deep gratitude for the honour of knowing her and deep grief in knowing I will never again share our circle with her living presence.
As I grasped for words that would not come, I remembered Nikki would always advise you to start small. I cast around for one word to begin to encapsulate her legacy and the word that came was – Incisive.
Nikki was incisiveness incarnate. The word encapsulates a powerful intellect that can look at the full complexities of the universe and our place within it, and distill it into a to-do list with numbered steps and a spreadsheet to track progress. Whether she was planning a ritual, mentoring a Novice, editing a text, leading the psychedelic revolution or working out what to feed her kids, she brought her whole self into the task with a sharp and sometimes unnerving focus.
When I met Nikki Wyrd, it was difficult not to immediately become a fan-girl worshipping this powerfully present practitioner. The main reason I didn’t fall at her feet in admiration is because she would have instantly banished me from her presence because she had no time at all for that kind of nonsense. For all her awesomeness she remained firmly human at all times. A leader of equals who was acutely aware of the natural power dynamics that exist within groups and was careful to make them explicit so they were not abused.
Later, I was privileged to be Mentored by Nikki. She was my second mentor and she took me on because I was struggling with the Novice program. More than that, I was struggling with life. Now I have language around neurodivergence that I can use to express many of those struggles, but at the time I did not, and the Novitiate was looking like just one more thing I would fail at, one more reason to hate myself, one more way I would never be good enough and in our first conversation it all poured out of me in a long, self-indulgent rant which could be summed up with the words ‘woe is me’.
Nikki listened carefully and had exactly zero sympathy. I snapped back that I wasn’t looking for sympathy. Yes, I was frustrated and upset, but I didn’t expect her to fix that. She could already do what I was trying to do. Was it really so unreasonable to want to understand how she did that?
She went silent for what felt like an aeon. I was convinced that my Novitiate was over. When she spoke again there was no exasperation in her voice. The advice she gave me stays with me to this day. Stop making everything a judgement on your humanity. Your success or failure does not reflect whether you deserve to exist. This is just a thing you are doing, not who you are.
Then she broke down the program in a way I could not. One simple step to take, do it for a month, take another step. Over the next months, I’d come back with my next steps. At first they were too big, too complicated. She would help me simplify them until I found the balance for myself. I started to succeed not just at my Novitiate but at life. Even today, when I struggle, I still hear her saying, ‘make it simpler, make it smaller’.
She was the best kind of teacher. Advice like she gave me that day, was given sparingly, always sharp and insightful. She worked tirelessly to create an environment rich with the possibilities for learning. Her rituals were thought-provoking, frequently life-changing, and extremely pragmatic. Her conversations were as diverse and intelligent as they were delightful. She knew how to set boundaries and encouraged you to do the same.
She gave a huge amount of time and commitment to the Pact. She was generous in her recognition of what others brought into the space. She held the space as our Section Head & Section Sponsor with a clear-headed logic tempered with seemingly boundless compassion. She helped shape it into the organisation it is today. She never made it all about her or lost sight of the fact that she would need to pass it on. In 2019 she became an Elder.
Watching Nikki settle into the degree of Elder was bittersweet. She had given so much of herself for so long that she could not have deserved it more. She had so many things she wanted to do and a limited number of hours to do them. I knew it had been a hard decision to prioritise other things. I knew she was incredibly grateful to Sr Brigantia who took on the responsibilities of Section Head so capably. I knew she was still available in a ‘break glass in case of emergency’ kind of way but I also knew I missed her presence.
Nearly a decade went by, Sr Brigantia passed the Section to Frater Kite, and he passed it to me. Between the three of them, they had given me a great gift – time to not be in charge. It’s a trait that we all share – put us in a room and we will almost compulsively begin to get things organised. It’s a trait I see in those who will come after me.
Nikki taught me that I didn’t always need to be in charge. That it was okay to take time for myself. To believe in the competence of others. I was always somewhat doubtful that she had ever taken her own advice. I was delighted when the tides of her life allowed her to start regularly attending her local temple again. As it turned out, I should never have doubted her. Nikki was every bit as excellent as a participant as she was at being in charge.
This February she spoke at the Chaostreams event in London alongside Dave Lee and Ian Read to share some of the insights they had gained in their time with the Pact from its foundation to its current form. Seeing over a hundred years of combined practice on one stage gave us a sense of a current that they had each helped to cultivate and nurture. They spoke of the good old days when magical meetings were arranged by post, of finding each other through adverts placed in zine’s, of extraordinary lives and being living legends.
Nikki and I arranged to talk more about the future of chaos magic and of the Pact. We talked about the importance of creating spaces where people can share magical experiences, how the Novice program was a place for people to expand and how it taught you how to learn. One final time, she drew out anxieties I didn’t even realise I was holding. One final time she banished them with laughter. We shared our love of Pratchett. I told her she reminded me of Granny Weatherwax; she told me she’d always aimed to live like Nanny Ogg, and at her funeral, surrounded by her friends, family, colleagues and Magical siblings, I knew she had.
The ripples of your life will continue to resonate for many, many years to come.
Tribute by Coral Carte
I first met Nikki when she was Vice Chancellor of Arcanorium College. She was friendly, erudite and witty, and her presence made the Peter Carroll’s magic school a place worth going to. I loved Nikki. She was such a wonderful advertisement for the IOT that, after three years on the Arcanorium, I decided to apply. My first attempt didn’t end particularly well. As magic sometimes does, life rather imploded around me, and it took me nearly ten years to find my way back to the path. Nikki was still there, with a new magical name, wiser, maturer and managing important public roles, when I applied again. She was there, too, at my first open day after the long pause, quietly solid, grounded and welcoming, as I brought my diary to my mentor. Her presence was always somewhere in the background, and somehow that made me feel safe and at home. Finally, I had found a group of people who were just as weird as I was. And there was Nikki, knowledgeable and kind with that sparkle in her eye. By then, she had become an Elder, wise beyond her years, with an extraordinary depth of experience in magic and in working with people and groups. Listening to her speak as an Elder at her last public appearance at an open event in February of 2026, knowing that she was preparing to leave this world, was a profoundly moving experience. I find myself returning to that moment. There was such depth, courage and dignity in her words and in the way she met what lay ahead. She remained, to the very end, a role model for me. What an extraordinary human being. I feel very fortunate to have crossed paths with her.
Tribute by Dave Lee
I first met Nikki Wyrd / Sor Syzygy in 1992 or 93. She became one of my favourite human beings.
I have many memories of her, which illustrate her originality, her magic and her caring, but there’s one in particular which forefronts her dry sense of humour. It was one of the first Camp Chaos’s, in a field with a tipi in it. The weather was cold and wet. It was one of those weekends where you try and avoid taking any clothes off, even in your sleeping bag. We were all sitting round in the tipi after our evening’s workings were over, trying to stay warm. Nobody had said anything for a while then Nikki said, ‘What you have to bear in mind about a tipi is that it’s basically just a windbreak. In a field.’
She had a heroic commitment to doing what she could. At Breaking Convention 2025 she was already very ill, but she continued to work on organizing the event, and even appeared on stage a number of times. Then, even more recently, at the public IOT event in London in February this year she appeared on stage with us, full of life and graciousness.
I choose to live my life until I die, as Nikki did. And I hope I’m as gracious as she was when my time comes.
Tribute by Frater Novegicus 144, 0º.
I remember decades ago travelling to Norwich with my late wife Soror Bene Vivat to confer the Neophyte degree on Soror Syzygy as I did for so many people. However, she turned out to be the finest of them all in so many ways. She was simply lovely and awesome. Setting aside my inbred English reserve for a moment: I loved her.
We met not so long ago at a London IOT open event and she told me how she was facing up to her terminal condition; just like a hero of old. How humbling and challenging that was.
Wyrd bið ful aræd
Tribute by Soror Gwithabenyn
I am struck immediately by a giggle and a smile. One of knowing. Sator Syzygy’s ability to cut to the chase, remove the bullshit and let something just be, came from a place of great wisdom. She really did have an exceptional ability to hold space and to observe, in detail, before choosing an action or an opinion – which she would then deliver with great skill. She was a wordsmith, knowing when to add words, when to weave them and when not to use them.
I recall my first moot with the pact, at the beginning of the Covid lockdown, on account of which the moot was conducted online. By the morning of the last day, I was flagging, having attended many rituals – it was then that Nikki discretely explained to me that I didn’t have to attend every single ritual, and that I should take a break and recharge. This kindness to reach out and support others in their magical journey is something she offered to many, and she was one of our elders in many senses of the word. We continue to be honoured as she takes her place as a beloved ancestor to us.
One of the things I admired about Nikki was that, unlike many, she was exceptionally good at being herself. She just embodied herself and I found that inspiring. And it has to be said, and I know many others will say this, but she really was an exceptional magician.
I was blessed to become friends with Nikki, and truly, I miss her.