Charl had stacks of books and articles on demonology, pouring over the texts belonging to darker magick as if his very life depended on it. His thirst for Magickal knowledge was greater than anyone I had ever met, and in that way I found him intriguing.
Of course, each time I returned home, Julian would ask me if I had met someone - would demand to know how the American boys compared to those in our village - specifically him. And each time I reassured him that America couldn’t steal me away, not when I had our village - our people, and each other.
Tonight, it was my turn to teach the group - to share some of the knowledge that had been passed down to me by my grandmother. Sharing all she had taught me felt like a betrayal to her and the village, but the knowledge that I had gained in return far outweighed my own sensibilities. With the knowledge Charl had distributed, I was becoming a stronger Witch - someone who could truly protect and cater to our Village’s needs. We were still too far removed from the rest of society, still too archaic in our approaches, and I worried that such exclusions may serve as our downfall.
“Why would we ever need to summon a Demon?” Zoey asked the question that the others seemed too scared to ask. Maxine seemed indifferent, and Brenna appeared bored, examining her peach nail polish - the same polish I had watched her apply painstakingly slowly in our cabin an hour earlier.
“You might never need to summon one, may never want to summon one, but as a Club we share our knowledge - we don’t shy away from it, or judge others for their beliefs and practices.” Charlain’s words were a gentle chastisement, and something about the way he had inadvertently defended me and my village’s ways had heat blooming in my chest.
Zoey merely nodded once in understanding as I finally stepped towards Charl, allowing them to understand that I would be the one passing on this knowledge, although I was fairly certain that Zoey was equally able to summon a demonic beast, even if she pretended not to know how.
Wordlessly, they followed me as I trailed away from the fire - away from the lake, stepping deeper into the wooded area until the lights of the cabin were far behind, and we only had the moonlit sky to guide us. Brenna swore, deftly pulling out a cellphone to shine the way, and I had to bite the retort ready to fly from my tongue.
She was not raised to respect nature in the same way I was. Perhaps she danced naked under a moonlit sky for certain ceremonies, but nudity did not equate respect.
Ignoring Brenna and her device, I allowed my feet to guide me, searching out on instinct for the right spot. I wanted to summon someone easy - someone non-malevolent so that I didn’t scare those who seemed unwilling, but at the same time, I didn’t want someone leaving this group attempting to summon a higher level demon with the same simplistic Magick I was about to use, and so I settled on summoning not a beast with low level intelligence, but a Demon that stood in between malevolence and friendliness.
I picked up a discarded stick off the ground and began sketching a large triangle deep into the soil, and this time when Brenna shone her cellphone light over my design, I didn’t begrudge her that action. I simply continued, slowing down my movements for all to see.
“The easiest way to summon a Demon is through Blood Magic.” I fought to pronounce my words with an American accent, annunciating every syllable in a way that I was certain everyone heard and understood me. Next, I drew a circle within the triangle, etching the shape even deeper into the soil, for the circle is where the Demon would ultimately be confined.
I watched Jessie shrink back away from the crowd, but I paid her no heed, forcing my attention back to the task at hand. It was Corinne’s interest that I found the most intriguing, for where I was certain she would cower, she simply pushed her way towards the front of the crowd for a clearer view of my demonstration.
I dipped my knife into my palm, dribbling blood within the line of the circle I had created. I ignored the soft gasp that I was certain came from Jessie, ignored the way Charl seemed to circle my actions, as if he were a bloodhound ready to pounce at any sliver of darkness - I ignored it all.
It took great concentration to summon a demon, and so I resigned myself to do the summoning first and the explanation later. I mentally sifted through the demons I knew offhand, picking one that I knew wasn’t fully cooperative, but would be bound by my circle due to his hierarchical Demon rank. I finally settled on Beleth - he wasn’t nice, wasn’t complacent, and happy to meet people, which meant that the summoning would shake up the crowd.
I held my breath, allowing my mind to fall into that meditative state where I questioned where I truly was - if my hands were truly part of this body, if my mind was truly of this realm. And once I was suspended in that mental state of nothingness, I spoke into the darkness of the forest, the Summer Camp and its members fading from sight.
“Beleth, I summon thee with the blood of a Witch beneath the waxing moon.”
They held their breath collectively, and on some level, I appreciated their silence, grappling to maintain the mental space I was suspended in. The wind whipped through the trees, the branches groaning and creaking, and someone behind me whimpered, but I paid them no heed, repeating the phrase my grandmother had taught me.
“Beleth, I summon thee with the blood of a Witch beneath the waxing moon.”
Summoning a Demon was work that required protection, but such protection was ingrained in my daily routine, making any sort of preparations unnecessary - yet another thing my grandmother had passed down: A woman must always be prepared. A blanket statement that meant so much more in the village I came from. I had a protection bracelet firmly on my wrist, anointing oil massage into my hair, and sigils scribbled into every item of clothing I possessed. I sent a mental prayer to our Mother for guidance and safety, and that’s when I felt the ground shift beneath my feet. It was the kind of shift I was certain that no one else felt - otherworldly in its very nature.
I wore a moon ring made of silver, and raising the ring towards the circle, the ring an additional line or defense against this particular demon.
A moment before the figure flickered into existence in the center of the circle, soft drizzle misted over my skin. My element was coating me in her very essence, offering me additional protection. It was a gift, one that I would not dismiss.
Moans of begrudgement sounded behind me, but once more, I ignored them, concentrating solely on the emerging figure before me. The same one I had summoned the day my menstrual cycle arrived. He looked just as annoyed as he did the last time I had met him.
"He's so cute." Jessie's soft voice sighed out at the illusion of the furry creature before us, but before I could caution her against him, the Demon who had presented himself in the form of a cat hissed a low gurgling sound.
My grandmother had always cautioned that the Demons that didn’t look demonic were the most dangerous - the ones that resembled beautiful humans, filled with charisma and charm was where the true danger lay.
His yellow-gold eyes pivoted towards me and I steeled my spine as he unhinged his jaw in a way that allowed him to speak to us, the sounds guttural and low as he mashed his jaw in continuation in order to sound out words. If I hadn’t been expecting it, I would have been alarmed, but instead, I simply braced myself.
Most Witches in my village that come into their menstrual cycle summon a low level beast of a Demon, but my grandmother expected more of me, for I was the granddaughter of Jeanne des Montagnes, and so my first summoning had been Beleth, showing the village once more how I had not only been born to lead them, but was groomed by the matriarch herself.
Jessie yelped, suddenly moving farther away from my summoning, the cat-like demon having lost all of its appeal.
“Youssss are not bare thissss time.” The demon slurred the words, stating the obvious. The last time I had met him I was a thirteen-year-old naked girl, now I was fifteen and very much clothed.
“Do Demons always state the obvious?” I inflicted the tone of my voice, ensuring I sounded bored. I wanted to anger the demon so that those standing around saw him for what he was - a creature only summoned in extreme circumstances to execute our bidding. Nothing more, nothing less.
His gold eyes blinked at me, his tail flicking back and forth - the only sign that he was irritated. But he didn’t lash out, instead, he waited. It seemed the Demon remembered what had occurred the last time.