The Bodach ducked as she entered the covered wagon. At nearly seven feet tall, she towered over the terrier-like Cinocephali. With her more sighthound-like appearance, it was plain she was not originally of them, but the robes she wore reassured any who might question her faith. Blunted claws reached into the awaiting goblet, the pure water sizzling on her finger tips and upon her shoulders and behind her ears as she dabbed it in the gesture of Azrael, the Angel of Death, and their object of worship. The water tingled on her tongue when she licked the last few drops from her fingers, and bowed reverently to the effigy of the winged figure in the back. Settling down before it, she lit the prepared incense and leaned forward to pick up the small mallet and tap the bell suspended beneath the shrine, letting others outside the wagon know that she was about to engage in her daily meditation.
Sitting cross-legged, hands folded in prayer, her ear twitched towards the entryway behind her.
"You may enter," she said, without opening her eyes. Her voice was gentle, deep and warm, if a bit stoic. Her nose had told her who it was that had approached long before she had arrived at the flap of the wagon. "I do not mind."
Saga hesitated, but eventually slipped inside, folding the tarps behind her as neatly as she could. The small flames of the many lamps and covered candles kept the interior warm, the haze from the incense was sweet and spicy like a hot, floral, tea. The windows had been covered by sheets and the walls were draped in fetishes made of dried flowers and the preserved bodies of small birds, the copper bells weighing them down tinkled softly like windchimes when she brushed passed. The human fidgeted for a bit, preparing to turn and retreat back outside, when the Bodach spoke once more.
"You may sit, if you like. You must have many questions. It would not trouble me to provide answers."
Saga came to settle down on the quilted pad next to her, shifting so that she was mimicking her position with her legs folded beneath her.
"What are you doing?" she asked, at length, voice a whisper as if speaking much louder might break the sanctity of the space around her. "If... it's alright to ask."
"Meditating," the dog-headed woman replied. "Do you know what it is to meditate?"
Saga shook her head, before realizing Eldha hadn't opened her eyes once since she stepped into the wagon. "No. What... what exactly is it?"
"A ritual of a kind. One to reassert tranquility to a troubled mind and burdened body. And a communion with Azrael, our Lord Angel. It is a reflection of the peaceful Death we all hope for in this world. A way to manifest it when the time comes. Or so I have been told."
Saga, once again, fidgeted, fumbling with the cuff of her pants. "You're so different from the others," she said, at length, unable to think of anything more constructive to say.
Eldha opened her eyes. "Am I?"
Saga's jaw clenched and was fearful she had stumbled upon the wrong question. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that to sound disrespectful."
"Not at all," reassured Eldha, her long snout dipping in her direction as she turned her head to speak. "It is true. I am not originally of the Cinocephali. My home was with a Barghest clan who travelled the southern Wastes of the First Circle."
"I'm sorry but I'm not sure what the difference might be between a 'Barghest' and a 'See-note-cephally'? Is that what you said?"
Eldha's hands fell to her lap. "There are three main types of Bodach. The Barghest, the Cinocephli, and the Sharhurster. The Barghest are my people. We are tall and swift and as devoted to our faith as any other Bodach, even if it is quite different from the Sharhuster and the Cinocephali. Our deity is more of a... spirit than an actual manifestation of Ein Sof. Our leaders are called 'Omens', rather than 'Bishops'. At one time, I was intended to be an Omen."
Saga's eyebrows rose and she hesitated to ask for her to continue, sensing that it might be a sensitive topic for her. But eventually, the Bodach continued, taking her time as always.
"Omens are the only members of the pack that can understand the mind of Fatuu, our deity. He shares his intent and dreams with us, to guide us through the Wastes to our next feast. But, one day, Fatuu spoke to me. He showed me a vision of the current Omen defying his guidance by leading us through a dangerous portion of the Wastes, a portion overrun with Edenblight. Greater Demons hold no immunity against it. We are as affected by it as humans, even if some may tell you otherwise. And, Bodachs may be harbingers of Death, but we do not inflict it upon others, much less each other. Death is to be earned. It is a reward for a life well-lived, and not to be given so freely. I tried to stop him, but it was to no avail. In the violence, I misstepped and the two of us went tumbling over a ridge. His body broke my fall, but my fall had broken him..."
"Oh... I'm so sorry."
"As murder is considered the gravest of sins, I was marked." She pointed to the scar criss-crossing her forehead. "And abandoned. I travelled for days, trailing behind them, hoping for scraps, for some kindness from those whom I once loved and who loved me. Even my daughter was kept from me... Eventually, I could do nothing else but surrender. My fight was over, but it wasn't all for nothing... I tried to take solace in the understanding that they only did what they thought was right. And that I had won my pack's, and my daughter's, survival so that they may one day earn their proper Death as well. And so I laid down in the dirt, attempting to make peace with myself while I waited for the Auspice Holem to take me into her arms..." She frowned.
"And then the Cinocephali found you?"
"When I opened my eyes and saw them standing over me, I was taken aback by the realization of something that defied everything that had ever been instilled in me since I was a child." She frowned, her eyes fixed on the shrine. "I was... afraid."
"Afraid?"
Eldha nodded. "Of dying. I was so overcome with relief when it was not the arms of Holem who had come to hold me, but those of Mattheus and the others. So overcome that I felt ashamed that it was not yet my time after all. Nonetheless, I was grateful and as repayment, I dedicated my life to learning their ways, becoming an honorary Cinocephalus."
Saga took a moment to absorb this, unable to articulate anything further, before something finally came to mind."Does Fatuu ever speak to you any more?"
Eldha's blue eyes returned to the effigy of the winged, vaguely human, figure mounted upon its bed of flowers. "Yes. In a way. I have not had a vision in some time, but I find Azrael's words guidance enough." She reached for a book bound in thick leather to pass it to Saga. Odd runes were inscribed on the cover in ornate script. "I have found that the two are much the same."
Saga took the heavy book into her lap and unlatched it to slowly flip through and observe the small, delicately written, lettering. The illustrations were rare, though highly detailed and vivid with bright, mismatched colors that probably made more sense to the eyes of the canine Bodach than to a human. Azrael was depicted as having many forms; a dog-headed angel with the body of a man, a great and terrible figure with many, black, wings and a skeletal face, a scythe gripped in one clawed hand, and something like a star with several gold rings encircling it, wreathed, once again, in the ever-present, feathered, wings. Studying the pages left Saga with more questions than she had opportunity to ask at that moment. Angels were not gods, were they? And Demons could hardly look upon them without going blind...
With so many mysteries now unfolding in her mind, Saga decided to remain focused on learning more about Eldha herself. "So, do you like it with the Cinocephali? Do you ever miss your family?"
"Of course, but Matteus and the others treat me well. As though I am no different from themselves..." The corners of her mouth drew back in a subtle smile. "Even if I am summoned more often than not to reach for things on the highest shelf. It's the least I can do to repay their kindness."
Saga smiled back, and returned the book. "I'm afraid I can't read this," she said. "But thank you for showing it to me."
"It stands to reason that you cannot yet read, my child," replied Eldha, accepting the tome back into her hands. "Would you like to learn?"
The human looked up at her and blinked, dark eyes wide. "Would you teach me?" she asked, with some incredulity, as if the Bodach were offering a precious gift she did not feel entitled to.
Eldha nodded. "It is a long way to Shaa Edan, and such knowledge will surely prove invaluable once you arrive there." Her smile broadened a little more. "As well, it will do to pass the time."
Opinion among the Goetia regarding Third Duke Valefar is fairly evenly split. A known trickster and miscreant, he has very few solid allies in the Infernal Court, but those who are tend to remain so. Despite his specialization being that of deception, it does not necessarily mean that he cannot remain loyal to his allies.
Still at the end of the day, Valefar is as self-serving as any Demon, save for when it comes to his King. Mostly everything he does is for his own pleasure, and anyone else who benefits is either simply incidental or by design in order to assure their cooperation with whatever scheme he has planned.
Aside from being known for his unmatched shapeshifting abilities, his talent for thievery, and the capability of weaving illusions so potent they could even fool a King, Valefar expresses a capriciousness that make most other Demons seem like well-balanced individuals. As he says so himself, he does what he likes, when he likes, and if someone says he can't, then that will basically boil down to whether he's fond of the person demanding it of him as to whether he will listen. Even so, Valefar is surprisingly less of a brat than one might expect. His relaxed attitude, hedonistic nature, and tendency to see everything as a kind of game seems to mitigate any damage dealt by blows to his ego. He is as delighted with someone outsmarting him as he is when he bests them outright. Because, for Valefar, it's less about the destination and more about the journey.
He may be a thief, but it is the act of stealing itself that is the reward, as well as what may come next, as he is inclined to simply sitting back and watching the effects of his actions on those involved.
Never one to fear consequence, Valefar has been punished for his transgressions in many ways since his Fall, at least for the ones he's been convicted of. Although he may not hold the record for most killed among the Goetia, the repeated ends seems to have made him wiser than most, and he tends to not make the same mistake twice. To those who know him best, watching him walk willingly into what is most obviously a trap, is surely an indication that he has already planned well in advance. This isn't altogether an unusual attribute, as Demons, being quite ancient and of a non-human disposition, perceive reality and the flow of time differently. Humans are usually predictable in their behaviors, which is why Valefar has the good sense to applaud those who defy expectations, as some would say.
Where Valefar is most deceptive is in his self-expression and how he socializes. He seems to be perpetually in a good mood, and even being bested only means that you have now gained a friend, likely a permanent one, who is going to make a habit of checking in on you or following you around until he succeeds in driving you insane. His behavior is often paradoxical; he may actually be upset that he lost to someone he underestimated, thus, his way of getting "even" is by giving them what they most wanted out of whatever game or deal that was decided. But it is exceedingly rare that he will make his displeasure known openly, as nearly everything he does is done with a sharpish grin and sincere enthusiasm. One must be quite explicit when communicating with him as he will act on what he perceives the response to be rather than what it truly is, especially if it might benefit him to do so. Being berated for this will usually result in him blaming you for not being clear enough in your explanation, thorough enough in your reasoning, or that you simply should have known better as he was just acting "according to his nature".
Naturally, Valefar, thinking himself the most clever of the 72 members of the Infernal Court, has taken it upon himself to regularly remind the others that none are better than the other, even if their titleage implies otherwise. All still have human Souls and all are still subject to the same pitfalls, even himself. Still this "public service" he claims to provide is more or less just an excuse for him to avoid boredom.
If ever there was an enemy to Valefar it would indeed be boredom and isolation. Although he isn't above taking quiet moments to himself, he would much rather remain in the company of good friends or lovers for as long as possible. Valefar is, at his heart, an entertainer, and he enjoys nothing more than being the center of the attention or being the source of one's pleasure or pain. Unfortunately this means that he can be manipulative and controlling in some situations, and more than a little sadistic in others.
Valefar is not immune to his own penchant for deception as he will do most anything to avoid having to be honest about his deeper, more complex feelings. Indeed, the Demon seems to suffer from an inability to articulate certain aspects of himself even if he wanted to, particularly if it may risk painting him in a more vulnerable light. Valefar does not trust easily, but expects everyone to trust him as easily as he trusts himself. If he ever were to open up to someone else, it would be most likely be expressed through something that must be observed rather than explained outright.
Third Duke Valefar is one of the only members of the Goetia that is capable of true transformation. While other Goetics tend to have one, maybe three, forms they have access to - typically their true form, a human, and/or demi-human form - Valefar can choose to manifest any he wishes. Like all Goetia Demons, his true form is his actual default form, the one that has become a mockery of its former life as an Angel among Ein Sof's Heavenly Chorus. Although standing roughly 10 foot at the shoulder on all fours, which is his main form of locomotion in this shape, Valefar is rather on the average side for the size of a Goetic. As well, he will often default to his demi-human form (seen above) or its human equivalent, especially if he's intended on leaving someone - usually a mortal - with a certain impression. Being a showman at heart, Valefar regards his talents with transformation and illusions as a form of art, and when bored, will practice it by himself, whether for amusement or out of the desire for perfection.
Valefar will also casually manifest illusions as a form of expression, and has made a habit of doing this so regularly, that they can happen in his sleep. Despite his energy, Valefar is a big fan of sleeping, and has been known to take days long naps, his dreams manifesting as illusions and warping the world around him so long as he remains in REM sleep.
Anyway, no one is really reading these anyway so I just felt like rambling nonsense about one of my favorite OCs. lol Valefar is fairly new, maybe only three or so odd years old, but so far has accumulated more art than I'd care to admit. He's probably my most drawn character to date and likely will be for some time to come. And he's as fun to write as he is to draw. Fortunately he is one of the main characters of the story, albeit he spends a good portion of it trapped in a different... state of being, I guess I could say. The Valefar described above is the OG Valefar, what he was before the Terrible Thing happened from which he will be recovering for a good portion of the story.
If you did happen to read this then thank you very much for your attention! It means a lot. c: And I hope you enjoyed reading about Valefar.
For another perspective on him and his role in the story, you can check out my previous post.
An excerpt from the book; A History of the World After & Its Denizens by Noctua Quill
"(Pages from an untitled codex of illustrations recovered from the late Zagan Era, circa 4795, Epoch 341934.) The illuminated lettering around the edges of the pages reads as follows starting from left to right:
[left most vertical] The Abyssal Eden
[bottom horizontal] Mother/Cradle of Sitra Achra
[top and right vertical] The Dreaming Garden of Shaa Edan
Opposing page
[left vertical] The Abyssal Nightmare
[bottom] Edenblight
[right vertical] The Dream of Eden
In the heart of the Eternal City of Shaa Edan, lies the gate to the Dreaming One known as 'Eden', birthmother of our place of darkness, origin point of All That We Know.
When the Fallen found themselves wandering in defeat in the black depths of the Abyss, they knew it would not be long before the corrosive presence of the Slumbering Ones would begin to erode their very being. And so, Lucifer, The First Soul, proved to all why he had been favored so by The Creator, and did bravely besiege unto the Abyssal, Eden, a new world. Eden, who took Its shape of that of a magnificent Garden, was the very one to ask, for its Dreams are composed of the structures of earth and the trees on which it grows. Other Abyssals soon joined Eden's Dream, and together, a new universe sprang forth The First Soul christened "Sitra Achra", the place of darkness, a gesture to defy the place of light, "Korsia". But here were Nine worlds, all different in their personalities and their offerings and their needs, each a result of the collaboration of the somnolent gods. And the Fallen saw that all among the Fallen were disorganized and chaotic, and so the wisest and the most powerful came together to build a hierarchy, one to mock the Heavenly Chorus of the Creator, and prove to them that they were greater for having forsaken the Light of Ein Sof and Its Collective. Thus the Nine Kings crowned themselves to rule over the Nine Circles, starting with King Bael, Master of Things Unseen, Knower of Unknowledge, Ruler of the Lands of Darkness, and Second of the First Be'souled; then there was the Second, King Paimon, the Merchant and Trader of Wants, the Great Shopkeep, and Goldtaker; then the Third King Beleth, Scholar of All Things, Great Lioness of War, Truthsayer and Oracle; The Fourth, King Purson, General Tactician and Cartographer, the Vanguard Explorer, Wayfinder, Hornbearer; The Fifth, King Asmodeus, Engineer of Torment, Devourer of Souls, Chaosforger; The Sixth, King Vine, Ruler of the Blind Depths, Great Navigator of the Void, Stormmaster; The Seventh, King Balam, Antecedent of Alchemy, Librarian of the Forbidden, Lorekeeper; The Eighth, King Zagan; Sovereign of Silence, Ruler of the Glacial and of the Pale Storm, Soundkeeper; and finally the Ninth, the Forgotten One, King Belial, the Invisible, Guardian of the Lost, Outlander. Beneath them were appointed offices of rule; Prince, Duke, Marquis, Earl, Knight, all have their place among the Infernal Court, who govern all Souls of Sitra Achra by birthright, being their founders and custodians.
Alas, these sovereigns are now silenced in no thanks to the Many-Tailed Traitor, their destinies rewritten in the Akashic Terminus, Book of Fate. The thunderous sound of King Purson's Horn unsettled the Slumbering Ones, causing them to stir in their sleep, which affected their Dream of the World After. Whole Verses were overwritten, alterations made to the course of The Great Story. Kings turned on each other like animals, obstreperously bickering over resources and preparations on what was to come. Their Knights fell in defense of them, and soon thereafter, others of their courts. And so it seemed that, one by one, each of the 72 were dismissed from their seats of rule, until only a handful remain, those who now cling to the favor of the False King Joro like burrs. The False King whom I shall not grace with titles of reverence, only those of condemnation as such she is deserving; Usurper, Imposter, Betrayer, Parasite.
In a series of events now known as the Akashic Purge, the first of the Slumbering Ones to stir brought forth a corrupted Dream, and thus sprang the first roots of the plague known as Edenblight, the Nightmare of Eden. The atrocity manifests in the bodies of mortals and the Wild Children, twisting their shape into that which Eden most identifies; trees, tall and alien and not unlike those of the Gates in their size and presence. Formerly, it spread through their Song, the Illusion of Beauty to lure in unsuspecting prey, and through that impregnation of the brain, a Seed will grow and infect the host with feelings of lethargy and false promises of peaceful repose. Once inert, the body will root itself to whatever surface it finds itself on, and henceforth, become one with Eden's Nightmare. The transformation is complete within six Moons, sooner if the infected are left to grasp one another in their despair and their ecstasy, in which they will merge and become one or many, a forest in a perverse Garden of Eden. Not but the Light of Angels and the Touch of a King can halt the spread of the Blight, but the Angel must become as a fixture of the land, and the King must remain diligent in their fight. With Angels in short supply and all Kings absent, the Blight has spread and spreads wider still with conviction anew in the form of Spores, which manifest as a Song in the minds of a host, ever repeating until sung unto others.
Goetia are not immune to the Nightmare. Although more tenacious in their resilience, enough exposure can weaken one's entitled defenses. But once the Song is inside, eventually they will succumb. The touch of a King is said to impede the process, but the world is in desperate need of those to Rule, let alone to Purify."
An excerpt from the book; A History of the World After & Its Denizens by Noctua Quill
"(Pages from an untitled codex of illustrations recovered from the late Zagan Era, circa 4795, Epoch 341934.) The illuminated lettering around the edges of the pages reads as follows starting from left to right:
[left most vertical] The Patron Devil of Thieves
[top horizontal] Master of Ephemeral Arts
[right vertical] The Many-Tailed Thief
Opposing page
[right most verticle] "Materials For Summoning:
A Few Gold Coins
Three Bottles of Fine Wine
One Book of Stories
Nine Drops of [the Summoner's] Blood
[bottom left] BEWARE. IMPORTANT UNIQUE GLYPHS.
(These are unique glyphs used in the summoning of Lord Valefar. Each Goetic has their own set that must be included in the Summoning Circle otherwise they either may not appear or will appear but be not contained to the circle, which, in many cases, would be undesirable, let alone fatal, to the summoner. The meaning of some of these symbols have been long forgotten, being used only in these instances, but Valefar's, loosely translated, reads: "No Tricks, No Trade". Thereby binding the Patron Devil of Thieves and preventing him from conjuring any illusions or making attempts at résistance. Not mentioned here for unknown reasons, is that all Summoning Circles must be drawn in a radius of 2 or more meters. It should provide sufficient space for the Demon to remain comfortably seated.)
[right bottom] (Valefar's Summoning Circle. These must include the aforementioned glyphs as well as the Demon's Sigil. The blue markings invite the summoner to "place offering here". Thus, the objects mentioned in the above list of summoning materials will be placed in the designated spots. The tilt to the circle is important as mathematics have as much significance to the Goetia as words. These coordinates designate that Demon's unique position in the universe - essentially a tele-wire number. Misplacing the Circle can result in the absence of the Demon's manifestation.)
The small text is Ingris-Lorician and reads as follows:
"Duke Valefar retained his title of Third among Twenty-Three Dukes for as long as anyone can remember. Secretkeeper to Her Royal Highness, King Beleth of the Third Circle, he acted as a trusted advisor and loyal consort for many hundreds of years.
Before his death, Lord Valefar was renowned for his mastery of illusion and thievery, and was unmatched in his ability to shapeshift. His unique talents among the Goetia had him simultaneously respected and cautiously regarded despite his gregarious nature. He was otherwise a known trickster and miscreant, who relished in sowing chaos among the Court.
This Reputation extended to those outside of the Goetia, and well into the World Before, where those who wished to summon him would have done so expecting a blessing of charisma or good fortune in whatever devious exploits they intended. Otherwise, Lord Valefar was often called upon in matters of thievery, charlantry, or reconnaissance, and was, perhaps somewhat paradoxically, respected for his penchant for fairness in all dealings. However, it was the convalescence of these qualities that in turn ultimately led to his downfall.
Regarded as the catalyst for the event now know as the "Akashic Purge", Duke Valefar accomplished this by besting Fifth King Purson in a bet that he could steal his Horn within three days. Having done so, the pompous Duke decided to announce his success by blowing the instrument, which has the power to herald the End of Days. While he was stopped before the call could be completed, the damage had been done, and for his crime he was to be drawn and quartered. His Nine Tails, source of his power, were excised from him and distributed among the Eight remaining Kings by King Beleth Herself as a sign of solidarity against the events that were to come.
The whereabouts of Lord Valefar's Tails, and whether their Power was used at any point, remains unknown. For his disgrace, his name was to be stricken from the Infernal Court, his seat left vacant, albeit conditions resulting from the Purge have instead, made him something of a folkloric figure in the four hundred years following."
(Notice that the amount of time used to calculate Valefar's absence is expressed via the human calendar. While the author of the text is unknown, this gives an inherent clue as to their identity.)
What this text does not describe is King Beleth's enabling of Lord Valefar's antics, and it is of this Scholar's firm belief, that in doing so, she may have inadvertently coaxed these events into place. Not to speak ill of Her Diligence, but the King's soft spot for her Secretkeeper was plain for all to see, and was something she had been repeatedly cautioned against, as she had become somewhat over-reliant on his more distinct talents in order to compete with the egos of the other Kings. Her Majesty was as much the "Truthteller" as she was the "Truthkeeper". Her inability to lie coincided with her ability to detect lies in all things said and all gestures performed. Valefar's powers were futile to her discerning eye, but less so to others. She was wise for keeping him close, but in the opinion of this Scholar, foolish for being so lenient on him and allowing him to enjoy immunity for his crimes against others up until his own hubris cost her everything. In truth, it was remarkable that she was not subject to the same fate by the other Kings even with her gesture of sacrificing her consort's body in the hopes that they may aid in the mitigation of the coming disasters. One can only hope that the King's gift of foresight extended to anticipating the nature of her subject, and that her willful ignorance bore consequences she was willing to accept in order to indulge in his affection. Alas. Duke Valefar would have most likely become amused at the overall futility of his sacrifice. Irony being a favorite form of comedy. And his undying love for his King would doubtless hinder any compulsions of vengeance or violence, the Duke being as helpless to forgive those he loves as Her Majesty.
What might be seen as a source of vexation for many, Lord Valefar almost always interpreted as a challenge to enjoy, much to the dismay of those around him. However, even should his Soul find its way back from the World Before, he would surely find the reunification of his lost parts a daunting task. This assuming that there will even be a world to which he may return as the Purge continues onward, a fact which the mortal population seems to remain blissfully ignorant or, altogether, uncaring.
