Ars Goetia Novels & Stories

Eros Draeger My name is Eros, Eros Chaz Draeger, and I am an incubus. I take the life force from humans during the act of sex, and my master, the devil, takes a portion of it from me during sleep from the rune tattoo I have on my back. It can take the complete life force from any mortal who lays eyes upon it so I have to be cautious or leave a string of dead humans in my wake.

The gust of wind breezed suddenly, shaking the blossoms above, causing more of them to rain to the ground. He raised his eyes to look ahead—at the trunk of the tree where a triangular mark had been carved. They said it was Genia, the God of Nature. No one had been certain about Genia’s form, as some people had seen him as a bird, sometimes he was a horse, sometimes a deer … but they all knew what Genia had created—life. And so they chose the triangle as the sacred symbol of their God, since all life had souls … and every soul had three pillars; body, mind, and emotion.

Trish read aloud from a cracked and brittle tome, its pages inked in rust-red script. “These spells should hold them inside,” she said, eyes scanning the faded symbols. “The markings came from an ancient Sumerian text uncovered in Jerusalem. Each one represents a guardian angel at the four points of the compass: Michael for the North, Gabriel for the South, Raphael for the West…” She paused, her voice colder. “…and Jezebel for the East.” Scott finished carving the last binding symbol into the ground with his boot. “So they’re stuck, right?” “Not unless the lines are broken,” Trish warned. “So whatever you do—don’t break the circle.”

Owen sensed that Aragon, his wolf, had also felt the same attraction. Then Aragon let out a powerful howl that echoed through the forest, reverberating off the trees and into the sky. It was a howl full of strength and reverence, a howl that recognized the presence of something divine. With that, Aragon took off toward the scent, running at a frightening speed, as if being pulled by a greater force.

The ritual rites began as Deodria was circling her hands around and made a shed boundary including the souls from each of their sepulcher. The power and an evil soul inside Argen consumes a part of her body while saying, “Bring the abundancy at its state. Grow the power of disguise and excess Versailles sovereign above all treacherous,” said Argen in a tone of furry. She was fuming in a smoke of fire, as the red pearl happened to drip the blood down every head of the sculptures till it reached the ground. Argen felt the last step of its ritual. She saw how the fire surrounded them in circle and really was covered with a blood of flesh. She screamed at the last déjà vu and opened her eyes aft

She answered with a regretted tone in her voice. “Where did the titans come from by the way?” I asked like a child who is eager to know about the spiritual history that I am in with. “They are the products of angels who interact with humans… if you remember their faces it’s the seven sins because when angels started to interact with humans. The knowledge begins so as the deadly sins” She answered and it makes sense. Now I gently connect the pieces even it is not yet complete. I looked at my sigil again. I don’t know what it means but I know it is a part of me that I need to discover. I lean on the wall when I suddenly remember about my mother.

But because of the spell, that was impossible. “Arcanios exist in three kinds,” Alistair explained, sipping his coffee in the dim glow of the room where we had first spoken. The curtains were drawn shut, allowing no sunlight to filter in, leaving only the flickering candlelight to cast shadows against the walls. “The Caelites bear snowflake-shaped marks on their nape. The Ardorium have an infinite symbol on their arms. And the Hexling carry a crescent moon mark along the pulse of their neck.”

Aria POV The moment Ares steps into the clearing, the forest holds its breath. Not metaphorically literally. The wind dies. The branches stop swaying. Even the distant hum of insects fades into nothing. It’s as if the world knows who he is before he fully remembers it. Gold floods outward from his feet, tracing ancient sigils through the soil not random, not chaotic. A pattern. A language older than the goddess herself. My heartbeat stumbles. Those symbols…

The arcane, alien figures did not look at us, eyes gutted and blind, salt in their mouth, for they were the dead. Skadhi's Bow was merciless above, and Mani's moon was a fingernail, scratching at the surface of the night. I sat and watched them, ageless, cast out - cursed. Yolanda stirred in my arms, and in silent remembrance, we watched the milky stars of Audhumla pour forth from the Great Mother Auroch's udders. We cross ourselves with Uhruz, rune of the ox. Yolanda had bitter grapes in her mouth. She spat out dirt and sand. Suddenly, I felt dry clay and earth on my own palate, and spat it out in repulsion.

He held my hand as I looked in his eyes. “I know… they eventually will, though I’ve tightened the security. We’ll know if they try to invade.” He sighed taking me away from Elinor’s room. We walked in the office where he sat me down. The reel whirred and I saw the familiar face. “The soul sorcerer has 5 tiers. Poseidon, Hera, Hestia, Demeter, Hades.” Zeus began talking. “All are---” I managed to speak when Arthur intercepted.