"Victorian Upir" Chapter 4: The Summoning

Thursday, June 23, 2011

by: Jeel Christine de Egurrola
Lilith by John Maler Collier 
Chapter 4: The Summoning

Lamia in myths is a goddess who devours children for their pureness and the youth of their skin so she wouldn’t get old. The Lamian ritual is what will give the lady back her youth.

She was only sixteen when she died from the deadly airborne bacteria that spread Europe during her time. The Great Plague of 1738—similar to that of the Black Death in the 12th century—it was called, a bubonic plague that killed thousands of people in Europe during the 17th century.

Word has it that the Egyptian goddess Bast plunged the plague as a consequence for the Inquisition. According to history, cats and other witch familiars were burned alive, some beheaded. The goddess fury hit the people regardless of their race, age, sex, religion, like fiery arrows sending their souls afloat from their flesh.

The lady remembers the very night when enormous number of wild and house rodents distributed in her area, and in Europe. Lumps in her skin and bubo discharges she remembers in displeasure and disgust. Sickness was their only food.

Her queen died, followed shortly by the king, then her prince and herself and everyone in Castle Black.

Meresse, together with the two servants and the seven black cats hurry toward the Gate of Alioth, a wide white painted gate made of wrought iron, horizontal tendrils attached to opposite piers. The voussoir, which is strengthening by the rounded arch’s keystone, sits on two imposts opposite each other. The gate further leads them to Castle Black’s very own Catholic Chapel, the Chapel of Peter the Rock, built right after the Medieval Inquisition in the 16th century.

During the 11th century, the area surrounding the chapel was considered a sacrosanct ground by the pagans who worship many gods and goddesses. There in the same area animal sacrifices took place.

Beside the small chapel is a wide barren lot where no weeds, grasses and other plants grow. This was believed to be an area of great power, where the pagans do their rites.

While the lady kneels on the ground in a silent prayer to the goddess Lamia, Thomas and Brown gathers small round rocks in piles to be used in the ritual.

The small stones where spread in a circle, whose diameter reaches about five feet, enough to lay their human sacrifice.

Inside the circle, the lady sprinkles rock salts on the center where a single pile of rocks is placed similar to the ones piled by the witches in the woods of Blair.
She continues to disperse the salt in an outline of a large inverted star. The inverted pentagram... The pentacle—a very powerful circle symbolizing great power. She places each point of the stars candles lade bare on the dry ground.

Inside the same circle lays all seven silently sleeping new born babies in an inner circle a feet away from the candles.

All the felines position themselves inches away from the original circle, while the lady sits inches away from the south point, Thomas stands inches away beside her. Brown, on the other hand, with a match on hand waits nearest the circle for the rite to commence.

So it begins.

An athame on hand, the lady creates a small cut on her wrist—enough to let black blood flow from the leak to a monarch’s chalice, and she utters a chant in a language none of them understands.

The goddess Nyx gifted the lady with the tongue of gods and goddesses so she must speak their language, but lacks the gift of comprehension to the sacred tongue only the deities understand.

Utters from the lady’s part lips a familiar word, “Aero,” the errand boy lights the first candle on the west point of the inverted star. A gust of strong wind envelopes the sky, leaving withered flowers flying on air in flux with the wind current. As the air loosens, several vortexes arise from the ground, and the rest of the dirt and leaves follow in radial motion with it. The sounds of the wind like jazz in her ears. For a moment, it stops and every sound turns low, very low.

The chanting continues. At the mention of the word “Flamma,” Brown lights the second candle situated northwest upper point of the pentacle. The fires on both candle flames turn heavier and bluish in color as if it intends to burn with maximum strength. The smell of burnt coal occupies the air.  In less than five minutes, the bluish heat color turns back to the yellow-orange-red flame.

At the mention of the word “Terra,” Brown fires up the third candle northeast upper point of the inverted pentagram. The fragrance of mosses and tree barks and leaves fills the atmosphere. Sounds of wild animals fill the air—reptiles hiss, apes grunt, bats screech, bears growl, eagles scream, ravens croak, wolves howl, cicadae sing, raccoons chitter, rats squeak, cats meow, and others cry.  It takes almost ten minutes till the sounds deteriorate.

The errand boy lights up the fourth candle on the east—the fourth point, “Aqua” it is... the eye of the storm appears above the circle. A blanket of light illuminates the earth, follows shortly by the roar of Zeus’ thunder. A heavy amount of precipitates from the atmosphere drops to the ground but not wetting the circle or anyone around the circle. The storm continues for about ten minutes and ended immediately. The cyclone disappears in a tear of time. Then the smell of the iodine and sodium chloride from the ocean fill their nostrils. It used to be a nasty smell when she was alive, but now, the smell is like daisies in her nose.

She summons the last element, “Spiritus.” Brown lights the last candle in the pentagram. In no time, all candle fires up in heavy flames. A tingling sensation evaporates from her insides. A feel of spirit coming out from her body... She rise up from the ground, a translucent white chord connects from her belly to someone else’s belly. An astral projection that she is now, floating above ground—in the astral plains—looking down at body lying dead in the ground... The woman’s auburn hair scatters around, limbs on her sides. Her emotionless and wrinkled face like that of a hag’s with cracked lips.  

Two men reach out to her. One of them shakes the woman’s shoulder, calling a name the astral couldn’t hear.

The astral projection would have floated away. The feeling of freedom like a bird she now relishes in Utopia.

Someone is calling.

“M’lady!”

“M’lady Maressee!!”

In a sudden shudder, the lady wakes up. In shock of the latest event. For a moment she forgets herself. She looks up and sees two sapphire blue eyes looking down at her... A pretty boyish face. She closes her and flutters in open. Disappointed to see only two emotionless white eyes…

And she regains her awareness. She feels good inside. She kneels back on her earlier spot. She continues the incantation. This time like a true necromancer, she summons Lamia.

In otherworldly language, she speaks “Hear these words, hear my cry. Spirit of Goddess Lamia from the other side. Come to me, I summon thee. Cross now the great divide. Beloved spirit, Goddess Lamia, We seek your aid, Commune with us and move amongst us.”

She repeats the words until the ground shakes and the salt from the pile of rocks in the center of the pentagram begins moving up in unearthly motion along a vortex of dust from the ground, and appears an unrecognizable shape. An opaque silhouette of a figure appears.

“Speak” it squeaks in the otherworldly language.

“Seven first born for thee, for a beauty incessantly evermore for me and my court!” She speaks.

“Very well, daughter of Nyx! Thine is the beauty evermore.” And the figure disappears.

The ground shakes as it’s mouth guttles each sleeping infant one by one. And nothing is left but blood on the ground where the babies use to lay, unlit candles on the same pointed angles, cats posed on the same spot, both servants stands in stupor from what they saw.

The lady stands, she swaggers like a princess that she is. Her unfreckled face now smooth and soft... Her lips pouty and red... Eyes no longer ashen white but a perfect hazelnut... Her auburn hair now shines like silk. She dances. She twirls her swirly red dress. She laughs—not a hag’s laugh but a teen’s silly gag. A young lady in her sixteen. Beautiful.

Jack Brown is spellbound. 

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