Ever since that night on the moor when she was a girl of 19, the fateful night which changed her life forever, Eris had been searching for one, elusive, spell. The spell with which she can invoke a certain spirit again. A spirit, perhaps a demon, of night storms, iridescent gales blowing from another astral plane who transform those touched by them, kindling flames of insatiable passions – and power.
In the years which passed since, Eris had become an accomplished witch, and enjoys a moderate fame, or perhaps, notoriety. Now, for the first time in nearly a decade, she may have a chance of laying her hands on the book where that spell is said to be found. A scholar – he said his name was to difficult for most folk to pronounce, but she can call him Len – had answered her carefully coded letter, claiming that yes, indeed, he had recently obtained the original, and complete, Key of King Solomon. Including the pages thought to be lost, amongst them the one in which the words, acts, and offerings required to summon that specific storm demon are to be found.
It won’t be cheap, but didn’t she say she’s willing to pay any price?
Sensible of the growing power and reach of the church, Eris has taken some care in selecting the venue in which that long sought for rendezvous was to take place: she has paid for a room in the house of a London abortionist, highly discreet, and known to occasionally dabble in the occult.
When Len knacks on the door, Eris is troubled by a sense of foreboding, followed, once she admits the hooded stranger into the room, by an uncanny surge of desire.
Despite the roaring fire in the grate, Len remains swaddled in his cloak, even as they perform a cleansing ritual, and draw a magic circle. Eris asks to see the book, but Len insists that first, she must cast a simple spell, in order to prove that she is, indeed, a witch, worthy of possession and capable of understanding such a powerful and dangerous item as the Key of Solomon.
Eris does, closing her eyes. She opens them to find her hands shackled.
Len reveals himself to be a witch hunter, and announces that thanks to her desperation to lay hands on the forbidden book, now he has plenty of evidence for a trail which no doubt will result in the witch being burnt on the stake. Crying out for help won’t be any good, since the abortionist who had let Eris the room has recently been recruited by the church, to entrap suspected witches in return for saving her own skin.
However, states the false occultist, he would also like to conduct a few more tests, especially Eris’s resistance to certain forms of torture, and whether she has, like all witches, unnatural sexual appetites.
Eris pleads, then bargains, for her life. Surely there is something she could do…? She uses her considerable powers and charms, and the very tests and he subjects her too, to sway Len. In the course of those trails, she lure him into the magic circle, To her amazement, he seemed to be unable to leave.
As the clock strikes midnight. Eris says an incantation. She doesn’t know where the words came from. They just lodged themselves in her head.
A gale shakes the house. And it dawns on Eris that yes, she’s done it, she has an incubus trapped in a circle. A nefarious Lilu! Will she be able to bend the cunning creature to her will?
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