Chapter 9 Part 3

The sky was a deep purple in color as the setting sun transformed the clouds into a kaleidoscope of beauty. The scene below, however, was anything but beautiful. A bonfire burned angrily, sending long tendrils of oily black smoke drifting skyward. Nearby, a young woman sat cross-legged before the flames. She swayed gently to the rhythm of beating drums played by two men seated not far away.

An older woman approached the young raven-haired maiden. The elder was dressed in a long flowing gown of many colors and wore an elaborate headdress composed of flowers and bird plumage. She carried a bowl filled with a deep blue potion, which she gave to the younger woman.

The younger woman took the concoction and drank deeply. The dark liquid ran out the sides of her mouth and down onto her light yellow tunic. Then she placed the bowl on the ground at her side and climbed to her feet.

The tempo of the music increased and the dancing youth gyrated and whirled in time as the narcotic potion settled into her system. She let the music guide her and she heard the voice of her elder as the other woman sang the words that were so ancient and powerful.

Many long moments passed as the music and song continued. The dancing woman whirled like a deverish about the bonfire until at last the flames went out in a loud pop.
A cloud of smoke mushroomed into the evening sky revealing from it’s midst a bipedal figure. Bright red skin accented the black eye sockets and wickedly curved horns rising from the midst of the eyebrows.

“With flame, song, and dance thou hast called,” it hissed with a forked tongue. “I have come.”

The elder woman threw herself prostrate before the creature. “Oh master of the lower realms,” she sang in an euphoric chant, “we have called in obedience. To grant you entrance into this world I offer that which you see before you.”

The devil ignored the woman’s words. The old woman had long ago sold her soul to his own master in trade for her power of witchcraft. She was correct in that she had summoned him out of obedience. His master had so ordered her to do the deed. It granted him with an entrance into the realm of men, that otherwise would not be possible for a dweller of the Underworld.

The devil slowly circled the young woman kneeling before him. He brushed the crone aside like the insect she was. He approved of the host he was to possess. Gender was not a true manifestation to his kind, but when dealing with the mortals of the realm of men, it became a powerful weapon. In the form of a beautiful youthful woman he would be able to take advantage of certain attributes to achieve his goals.

From behind, the devil leaned over the woman and placed his hands upon her shoulders. Then adjusting the ethereal substance of his body, he slowly knelt into the flesh of the human.

The woman’s soul resisted violently in a timeless moment as they struggled to determine mastery of the body. Though she had voluntarily accepted his domination outwardly, her soul rebelled in its attempt to survive. It was a well-kept secret that the soul of the possessed was damned to the realm of Hell. Had the young woman known it consciously, she surely would not have submitted willingly to his domination of her.

But although she had submitted, her soul knew instinctively what being possessed meant and it fought the devil’s presence even as it was devoured by the diabolical presence of the creature. The battle lasted less than a second and immediately the invading entity became master of the flesh.

The young woman stood. To those around her, she looked practically the same. None of her physical characteristics had changed, but in the eyes there was something strange. The light of life, the twinkle of childhood memories and the inherent goodness that comes with the ability to love was gone. The eyes were flat and dull, vacant. It was not something that could be defined or measured, but was instinctive.

The elderly woman had seen the process of possession before. She recognized the disorientation of the body and new inhabitant, and took measures to assist her master’s agent. With a wave of her hand, two men stepped forward and guided the young woman and her possessing devil to a hut where she could rest.

As the possessed woman was taken away, the elder addressed those who had gathered to watch the ritual. “Friends and family,” she began. “Each day our people strengthen the ties that we have with our hereditary protectors. The Spirits of the Underworld have pledged to protect us from our enemies. But to do this we must make sacrifices. Each youth who volunteers to host our protectors will be exalted at the time of our final victory.”

There was an extemporaneous outburst of cheering as the gathered observers showed their support for their protectors. The witch, for that was her profession and she was proud of it, waited for the cheering to diminish. Her people called themselves the Chira. They inhabited the region of the deep, southern lands. To the north lay the great open plains beyond which were the great cities, nearest of which was Allentown. To the south was the southern seas and the many islands therein. To the east lay the eastern seas and to the west was the vast swampland called The Grog.

Their enemies, a race of ruthless and vicious people called the Keld, existed as a collection of clans inhabiting the lands in and around The Grog. There were parts of the swamplands that were very habitable and the swamp itself formed a natural defense for the Keld.

For generations, the Keld would emerge from the wetlands and raid the Chira villages. They took children and livestock and killed all those who opposed them. Only the efforts of the Chira’s patron goddess had kept the Keld raids at a minimum, but when the gods were destroyed at Gly-ou-vogue, the Chira were without protection. And so it was that they had turned to the Spirits of the Underworld.

The Keld were strong in the lore of earth magic, the same magic that the druids used. That was why the Chira had needed divine protection. That was why they had turned to the devils and made a pact with the Underworld.

The witch left her audience to their own thoughts. She followed the path that the recently possessed younger woman had been led.

The hut was not very large. Its function was simply a place of rest and private conversation for few people. At present, it held two.

“The adjustment continues,” the young woman’s voice said in broken syllables. It was clear that the devil was still struggling to master control of its new vocal cords.

“We are to serve as best we can,” the witch answered. “Our master demands obedience.”
“Well said,” the devil agreed. “The master thanks you for making this host available on such notice.”

“It is of no consequence,” the witch stated. “The girl will be missed, but her family are faithful to our traditions.”

“That is a favorable thing to learn,” the devil decided.

The witch nodded. They were in no danger from their enemies, and she had done as her master had instructed her, but even though she was a witch, she was still human with human curiosities. “May I ask,” she ventured, “why you have come to the realm of man?”

“The master has recently acquired a relic of great power. It grants unparalleled influence in this realm. But our enemies also hold icons of power that could oppose us. It will be I, and others like me who will quietly and systematically neutralize those who can stop us. Then when we have eliminated all opposition, we shall add the realm of man to the kingdom of Hell."