My Daemon Persaon

Wednesday, August 8, 2007

The Journey to…the Mysterious Island - Amber's Back-Story Intermission

[To my Gentle Readers: The first part of this post is really a back-story intermission which I weave in with the Mysterious Island blog is not necessary to read, and is of a much more serious note than the typical humour to be expected of the Mysterious Island series....SOOOO.... if you want to skip it to go to the funny stuff, go right ahead....though do so with this warning ... you might miss out on some insight to my behaviour later in the series *grins*]



Heady with my victory over Gott, and still clutching the Letters Patent possessively, I stumbled along somewhat drunkenly toward the front door. Seeing my faithful dog Braveheart lying lazily by the door, I whistled him to me. I had need for him for an important task later this evening (ACK! You dirty-minded people...NOT that!). He followed me obediently out of the manor, as I headed toward the stables. When I reached the shade of the ancient oak, I hid myself in its shadows. I fumbled in the leather pouch hidden within the folds of my gown, the pouch in which I held all my important vials of tinctures and bundles of herbs. Each vial had its own distinctive shape, and feeling for the right one, I pulled it out and took a small swallow. I waited a moment till the haze of drunkenes faded away to nothing, and mental clarity filled my mind with sharpness. I smiled inwardly at the spirit of my deceased mother, dead now for half a century, who had taught me how to brew this potent potion. I had very important work to do for now, and needed every bit of my wits about me.

Making sure nobody was looking, I started to head towards my Fortune Telling Parlour instead, now feigning a drunk's walk and muttering to myself, just in case somebody were to see me. Playing the drunken fool, I had found out long ago was a sure way to keep peoples' eyes off of you, and think you no more a threat than a sot. I liked to keep enemies, actual and potential, off guard. Going through the front door, I locked it behind me. I went upstairs and changed into a special black gown, worn only for special ceremonies, then turned on a lamp, and cast a little shadow & thump spell, to make it seem to anybody outside that I was drunkenly ambling about in the upper chambers. If they knocked and I didn't answer, they would assume I was too liquored-up to hear them, or to care. Going back downstairs, I lit a small candle, and did a quick Tarot reading to assure the time was auspicious for what I was about to do. It was. Blowing out the candle, I went out the back door, Braveheart still following. Making sure the gate to the garden courtyard was looked, I cast about the highwalls with my inner senses to feel if there were intruders nearby. There weren't. What I was about to do required the utmost of concentration.

In the center of the courtyard was a circle of white sand, held within a circle of pure gold, and inlaid with a pure gold pentacle. In the midst of the pentacle was an alabaster altar, with all the accoutrements necessary for my ceremonies. Slipping off my shoes, I entered into the sacred area barefoot, feeling the delicate sand between my toes, bring Braveheart in it with me. As usual, my skin goosefleshed and the little hairs on my arm stood upright, as I felt tingle of the otherworldly forces course through me. Closing my eyes and breathing in deep, I curled my toes and clenched my fists at the near ecstatic feeling of being on the cusp of communication with the nether realms. In reverence, I went to each of the quarter candles in turn, lighting them, and saying the appropriate incantation in the ancient Sidhe language my mother taught me, as her mother before her, and so on for the past several thousands years back. Going back to the altar, I lit the two candles, one for Father Yah, and one for Mother Hawah, invoking them. Then with Athame in hand, I walked the circle, cutting it. As I finished the circle, I could feel forces rise up, shielding me from any influences of the world of the living. I was in a realm where time meant nothing. Now unseen to mortal eyes, I could spend hours within the circle, doing that which needed doing, while only mere moments would have passed outside of it.

div>First I lay the Letters Patent on a small pentacle on the altar. I dipped my fingers in the waterbowl to purify them. Then after anointing myself with oil, I offered a hymn of thanksgiving to Yah and Hawah. I drank from the chalice and ate of the bread dipped in honey, after first giving an oblation to the God and Goddess. Finally, I ate a little sorrel, to open my mind to the forces I was about to channel around me. I was ready to invoke great powers.
First came the easy task. Book of Shadows in hand, I consecrated the Letters Patent with the Athame. "Maximus est Minimus!", I invoked. I watched as the document shrink to the size of a postage stamp. "Aquae est Vitae!", I chanted, imbuing the document with the power of water. A little cloud of mist hovered over the document. The document was now water-proof. The next incantation I ultimately intended, one which would fire-proof it as well, would the destroy the document now protected by the water elemental, unless I first summoned the spell of paradoxes. "Black be white, white be black, fire taketh away, and water giveth back!" The air hummed with power as I quickly made the final link before the paradox would fall apart without the necessary confusion of the final spell..."Pyrus est Vitae!" Now a little flame suddenly vortexed over the tiny document as well. The mist and flame danced and twisted, while the hum deepened into a bass rumble. There was pop, and the air about was both filled with light and darkness at the same time, and then all seemed normal, as the mist and fire harmoniously sunk into the Letters Patent. Smiling, I picked up the document, and enclosing it in a locket, I hung it around my neck, chanting "Videre Non!" While technically not truly invisible, this particular spell was useful in that whenever a viewer locked upon the object, his or her mind was immediately distracted by the view of my breasts, inciting just enough lust and/or envy so as to cause them to immediately forget they saw the locket (yet not enough so to cause them to do anything untoward). As I have been known to drunkenly dance topless at the Duchess raves, and also did several stints as an exotic dancer on the mainland (Gott spend the entire fortune on bad business deals, what else is a girl going to do to keep the money incoming?), it bothered me not in the least if people enjoyed the view.

Now came the hardest and most dangerous part. I began to chant in the ancient language of the daemon familiars, a language known to few Sidhe, and even fewer humans. Focusing my eyes on the little pentacle on the altar, I entered into a trance, reciting by memory a powerful spell so steeped in antiquity, that some claim it almost went back to the days of the Elder Ones. How long I stood there I know not, hours or days could have passed by in a relative sense, though still only seconds ticked away outside of the circle. Soon I became aware of a presence, a smokey, shadowy figure hovered over the little pentacle.

In my mind I spoke to him, "Bontaya, melo-Persaon, blessings of Yah Hawah be upon you!"

I heard his mellow baritone respond in my mind, "Bontaya, melo-Ambera, blessings returned! It has been many years since you last summoned me...50 or 70 of your years, I think."

"Yes, dear friend, I have missed you greatly. But you know the power it takes to resummon you when your host form dies. It requires much time for me to recover the strength necessary to perform the spell. Besides, there was that little problem of my Vampyrism with which I was infected some years back. Thankfully, Dr. Mason was able to cure me of that, but I yet fear the consequences of that remedy. And finally the need must be great. I have great need of you once more."

"I have sensed disturbances between the realms, dear little melo-Ambera. I shall be glad to once more assist you, chylde."

I smiled at my childhood companion, the one who accompanied me for 40 from when I was indeed a babe of 14 years of age. The one whom my mother taught to summon. At that time, I summoned him into the body of a Raven, a pet my mother had given me. We had had many joyful experiences together, as well as weathering heartache and tears together, especially after my mother's life had been brutally ended centuries before she was supposed to die. Sadly, as the Raven was already 200 years old when I first had him, he died of old age. Persaon had left me.

He continued, "Yet we can save the small talk after till the bond is complete, and we must act quickly. Dr. Mason's invoking the most dangerous of the Elder Ones to save you has made your presence in this realm more than noticeable to That One, now that you have opened a Portal! Do what must be done quickly, and close the Gateway!"

Nodding in agreement, I called Braveheart to me. He came over to me, wagging his tail, expecting a treat, totally oblivious to the forces around him. I indeed gave him a treat, feeding him a little ceremonial bread dipped in honey, along with a handful of wine from the chalice, and some sorrel. Suddenly his awareness grew to embrace the supernatural worlds, and he whined now nervously, knowing something was different, yet just what his canine intelligence was unable to comprehend. Casting a spell to numb his pain, I pulled out a small knife and pricked his left ear, till some blood oozed forth. Then I pricked my right thumb, and my left forefinger, allowing the blood to flow in each. Pressing my right thumb against Braveheart's wounded ear, I pressed my left forefinger to the small pentacle. I gasped as I felt the power of Persaon's spirit sudenly start to sweep through me, and enter into Braveheart. Shuddering in ecstasy and pain, I began to feel the bond again, one I had not enjoyed in more than sixty years. I could feel Braveheart's animal spirit agitate, not sure what was going on, yet no match for my spirit's control, and even less a match for Persaon's, as the daemon slowly intertwined itself with Braveheart's, passing through mine to again share that essence. I kept a corner of my mind's awareness focused toward the direction of the slumbering Elder One, to safe-guard against His sensing my presence, and awaking, and using this opportunity of the Portals between realms being opened to claim me for recompense of Dr. Mason using Him to free me. I shuddered inwardly when I saw Him start to rouse from His slumber!

"Hurry, melo-Persaon! He's awakening!" I mentally hissed.

Just as I felt the last of Persaon's spirit pass through me into Braveheart, I saw Cthulu's eyes start to open. Swiftly pulling my finger away from the small pentacle and my thum from Braveheart's ears, I shouted, "Incantatus Finis!" There was a silent impact within the circle, that knocked both Braveheart-Persaon and I to the ground. Trembling severely, I rose to my feet as quickly as I was able to. Though the imminent danger of Cthulu coming through the portal was ended, there was still peril. I had to end the circle's stay in the realm bewteen worlds, because not only could Cthulu still come for me (REAL bad for me), even if a little harder for Him, but He could come and swallow the entire Mortal realm (REALLY, REALLY for all of us...this would make Phillip seem like a weiner and marshmellow roast on the beach!). Tottering a little from the impact of the spells woven, I still made all the necessary steps and succesfully closed the circle's connection to the other realms, blowing out each of the quarter candles, and finally the God and Goddess candles. Suddenly my senses where overwhelmed once again by sights and sounds familiar to me...crickets chirping, cicada's buzzing, owls hooting, wolves howling. In the distance, I could hear Sean and and Bernie singing a rawdy bar room song over at the stables. The warm humid August night air enveloped me, and I began to sweat profusely after being so long in the cool nether realms. I looked down at Persaon, my old childhood friend, now inhabiting Braveheart, and smiled at them. Persaon smiled back, and Braveheart wagged his tale.

"Welcome back, Master Persaon," I said.

"Thank you, Mistress Amber," he replied.

Many people don't understand, but summoner and summoned are both served and serve the other. Persaon serves me by performing the tasks I give him, while I serve him by giving him a corporal life for a time. His presence in Braveheart could extend the dog's life for 40 or 50 years, while unlocking a new comprehension in Braveheart's mind as well...thus in many ways serving Braveheart as well as Braveheart serving Persaon by being a host.

Weary from the exertions, I sat down on the grass outside the circle, my legs crossed under me. Rubbing my feet sore from standing for hours on end within the circle, I explained to Persaon his task. I told him how I needed him to be my eyes and ears for me in places where I could not be. Because of the bond, at will, I could see what he saw, hear what he heard, feel what he felt, smell what he smelled. We could communicate with each other mentally whenever we needed to, no matter how far apart. His first task was to go to a certain dwelling at the southwest corner of Mayfair, and get a sense of what the presence of the master of that Manor felt like. Then he was to scour the entire coastline of Caledon, looking for a specific ship. I wanted him to see if the owner of this ship was the same owner of this particular household. Something Gott had said aroused my cautionary instinct, and even though Gott might be insane, there was a niggling feeling inside of me that there was a germ of Truth to hs ramblings. I told Persaon to then come to me, I would probably be at the Cay docks on the morrow's afternoon.

After Persaon nuzzled me, he started trotting off. Rubbing my eyes wearily, I arose. I felt I needed a drink bad, and was sorely tempted to drink the antidote to the anti-drinking antidote, to restore my drunken state, and then join Sean and Bernie. But I had one more important thing to which to attend. Sneaking back to the manor, I slipped in through the servant's entry. I could still hear Millie muttering downstairs. The sounds of Gott playing with a gleeful Raivyn Elizabeth drifted to me from the upstairs. I could hear my butler Edgar snoring away in his room. Still barefoot, I tiptoed upstairs to my room, and donned my Dragoon's uniform.

Carrying my boots in hand, I slipped back down and out the manor house, where I donned my boots. I hied myself to the stables. Sean and Bernie were bragging to each other about the women they had , and casting a shimmer spell on the far wall, it caught their attention, whilst I worked my way to Iontaofa's stall and silently led her out.

Going a small distance, I mounted her, then trotting her at first, galloped to Tanglewood. There I met up with my fellow Dragoons, and went to honour Dame Lapin Paris, now freshly knighted! Once I got there, I drank the anti-anti-drinking antidote. We hooed alot, I got a little drunk again, and danced a bit with Major Erasmus, before I returned to my Manor in the Moors.

Slipping out of my clothes, I tumbled into bed, and passed out in complete exhaustion.



Anonymous said... little thing..Lucian (Sumalee was her name before she was enslaved) is my Mother, not my Dad's (Dr. Mason).

My other father Bloodwing has a neko mother, but that's a whole other story.

*slips back into the shadows*

Amber_Palowakski said...

I'll fix that problem immediately! Sorry!

Anonymous said...

~waves to Lady Amber (Nia Frye)