Estelle Ana Baca

Category: Estates

Thirteen hierarchical distinctions applied to demons. They are, from highest to lowest, Kings and Queens, Princes and Princesses, Presidents, Chancellors, Dukes and Duchesses, Margraves and Margravines, Counts and Countesses, Viscounts and Viscountesses, Barons and Baronesses, Knights and Dames, Generals, Devils and Demons.

  • Astaroth’s Wager, the Conclusion (Really!)

    Back to Astaroth’s Wager, Part XVI.

    The police were there, and they were asking questions about what had happened. They wanted to know why the stove hadn’t been repaired. They wanted to know why Thomas hadn’t been at the office when they called. They wanted to know why his wife and infant child were still sound asleep in their beds when the fire took hold at 2 o’clock in the afternoon. They wanted to know why the neighbors had said that his deranged sister was always screaming in the night. They wanted to know if she’d started the fire, or if it had been he, who had been fired from work that day for stealing. They wanted to know why one of the items he’d been accused of at work stealing had been recovered at the scene. In fact, it was the only thing that had survived the entire blaze: a gold lighter that seemed untouched by the flames.

    He vociferously denied everything when they carried him away to the police station and booked him.

    He sat in the cell that night. There was a great part of him that didn’t feel as if it had been real. It had been too much to happen in one day. Too much loss. He couldn’t process it. It was simply unbelievable that everyone he loved and everything he had was gone.

    He returned to the thought that he had felt truly ruined at 24, but he was more than ruined. He was irreparably fractured. There would be no healing. He’d had so much, and it was gone. All of it was gone. He collapsed underneath the weight of his grief and wept in his cell all night.

    The next morning, he met with his court appointed lawyer. The police believed that he’d murdered his sister, his wife and his child, and burnt down his home, and all on the day that he’d been caught stealing from work. There was no evidence to prove that he hadn’t been there. As far as the State of California was concerned, he was guilty. He was a dead man walking. The lawyer said it was inevitable.

    And when he lay on the cot in his cell that night, one thought was set to repeat in his mind. “It’s hopeless. It’s completely hopeless.”

    *          *          *

    “You weren’t supposed to win this one, Astaroth. I’m not ceding my Estate,” Sitri said.

    “You will cede your Estate to me. I killed an angel, a Nephil and six primates in this wager. I won. Thomas Carver is a broken man, and Michael isn’t darkening your doorstep to seek revenge for his fallen brother. And if you don’t, remember that I am now Queen of Greece and Anatolia. I will bring down upon you the fury of Asia Minor if you don’t relinquish your lands.” Astaroth said.

    “Svipul?” Sitri asked in desperation.

    “You offered her your Estate for your mistakes. You never should have offered it up if you weren’t willing to part with it. Take what she gives you,” Svipul said.

    Sitri couldn’t afford to wage a war against Astaroth when his own Estate claims were in question, so he relinquished his claims. Astaroth had become Queen of Britannia, too.

    Astaroth was relatively benevolent, and she bestowed upon Sitri the Estate of President of London and the Home Counties. She made Svipul the Princess of Athens, and Caius became an honorary Knight.

    The Gas Chamber at San Quentin Prison, California.
    The very same gas chamber in which Thomas Carver died. He was executed in February 1939.

    *          *          *

    Up until day the State of California executed him for the murders of his wife, his child and his sister, Thomas never knew another shred of hope. But as he prepared to inhale the noxious vapors that would kill him, he discovered a shimmering, lost thing. Because he believed in his innocence, he hoped that after his heart had stopped and his soul had left his body, that he would see Adelaide and Hank and all his other loved ones again.

    Estelle will be taking the reins next week. I need a break after this one. Dominus vobiscum.

  • Astaroth’s Wager, Part XIII

    Back to Astaroth’s Wager, Part XII.

    It was just past two in the morning on December 25, 1936, when Caius returned to his master. Astaroth was sitting before a roaring fire in the drawing room of a mansion in Beverly Hills. Caius inhabited the body of a rat and leapt onto her shoulder. “I have returned, madam.”

    Constance Bennett's Home in Beverly Hills, California
    A contemporary postcard of Constance Bennett’s home, one of the Meeses’ neighbors. The architectural style employed at the Meese home was very similar.

    “Caius! I’ll bet you’ve succeeded!” Astaroth squealed. “And on Christmas! That’s a fine touch. The primate investigators will probably think it’s an accident. Here—let me call Svipul here. She’s been possessing the body of a primate. You can take over for her for the meantime.”

    “You look different, madam. Have you been possessing the body of a primate as well?”

    “Never in an angelic age, no. I’ve become so accustomed to looking like this horrible little man that I completely forgot that I’m among friends,” Astaroth said. Over the previous five months, she had been pretending that she was Mr. Philip T. Meese—an older gentleman of average height with gray hair combed in such a fashion so as to cover his baldness, blue eyes, a bulbous nose, three chins and a considerable paunch. She marched over to the nearest mirror and without any visible transformation, blonde bombshell Astaroth was the reflection that the mirror reported back to her. “That’s better. I’m wondering when women will have any sort of power and independence again in this world. I hope it’s soon. I hate having to look like bald, fat men to be taken seriously by primates. The late Mr. Meese was the least repulsive motion picture studio executive for me to destroy so that I could steal his identity and station.”

    Svipul had had to adjust, too. As soon as she saw Caius as the rat, she departed the body of the gray-haired, garishly-dressed Mrs. Ada Meese, and her body crumpled to the floor like a marionette with its strings cut. Svipul immediately took her usual form—a far more severe-looking but less attractive blonde than Astaroth—and said, “Oh fantastic—Caius, take over for me. I’m sick of that woman. Humans are just so bruisable. I can’t stand it anymore. I don’t know how you are able to cope with them.”

    The rat ran out of the room and towards the kitchen when Caius departed its body, and within a fraction of a moment, Mrs. Meese was upright. “She smells better than most humans. Thank you, madam.”

    “Tell me—are all the Warrens dead, except Florence?” Astaroth said.

    “It is so, madam.”

    “And how did it go?”

    “I started with the children, as was your suggestion, madam, and I inhabited the body of a stray cat. I taught the elder child how to write my name using various dead languages, and I taught him some very small spells to hurt his younger sister and parents. As his punishments got worse, his anger grew, and when he discovered that Santa Claus only left him a lump of coal for Christmas, I convinced him to start a fire to destroy his family. I made sure he was trapped in the bedroom and possessed Florence only long enough to escape with very serious burns. She’s in the hospital now. The police should be by to inform Thomas Carver of what happened to his sister later today. I heard the officers in Kansas City discuss contacting the local police here in Los Angeles to make the notification. Their expectation is that her brother will take Florence in and look after her,” Caius explained.

    “And her mental state?”

    “Florence knows her son started the fire. She’d been trying to stop him from burning down the house all week long. Given the strain from such a personal tragedy, his magically-enforced systematic torture of them all and their many financial woes, she’s quite mad, madam,” Caius stated.

    “Impressive,” Svipul remarked.

    “Thank you, Chancellor Svipul.”

    “If I’m perfectly honest, I have to admit that I’m envious of all the fun you had. Now that the hook is baited, we wait. And I’ll have you know that there’s a new title in this for you, too, Caius. There’s no reason for you to remain a mere Devil any longer,” Astaroth said.

    “Might I inquire after your mark, madam?” he asked.

    Astaroth explained, “Oh, the newlywed Carvers are ever so deeply boring: so in love, can’t believe their luck, expecting a child in May, blahblahBLAHBLAH. But not for long! Merry Christmas, Thomas Carver. I hope he truly enjoys it, as it’ll be his last.”

    Dominus tecum.

    On to Astaroth’s Wager, Part XIV.

  • Astaroth’s Wager, Part IX

    Back to Astaroth’s Wager, Part VIII.

    An ellamadus is to white magics what a grimoire is to black magics. Unlike traditional grimoires that feature spells neatly written out in books or scrolls like the Lemegeton or the Picatrix, ellamadi are more like the grimoire known as the Orrery, in that they are objects that are meant to harness a specific type of energy and release it if one can unlock how to use it. They demand that its user possess a fluency in the manipulation of metaphysics that is magic, and without that basic knowledge, they’re just pretty objects. On account of their potency and immeasurable value to demons, any angel who came across one was on orders to confiscate and destroy it, and demons went out of their way to keep them out of the angels’ sight.

    This particular ellamadus was known as the Ashera Didilak, which roughly translates to the children’s lament. When only its lower magics are unlocked, it endows its owner with the sort of metaphysical brawn that allowed Stolas to defeat Dantalion and become a King. Its higher functions include summoning magics, which are far more complicated than you might think, for although summoning a demon is relatively easy, summoning an angel, human or hybrid creation isn’t, and they can reunite all the members of a family, including angels. It’s a highly useful tool for parents, which is why it can be a bane to the offspring of its possessor.

    Astaroth gingerly handled the Ashera Didilak. She uttered a few words in a long-lost language that made the orb emit a pale lavender glow in her palm. It lit up her face, emphasizing the lines of menace that flanked her smile. She said, “Stolas is an even bigger idiot that I could ever ever have imagined. It was common knowledge that he had an ellamadus, which was just what I needed, but this changes everything. Come to think of it, it might have been wise of him never to advertise that he had the Ashera Didilak. I’d’ve come after it centuries ago.”

    “What shall I do now, madam?” Caius asked.

    Her eyes were still fixed upon the Ashera Didilak. She ordered, “Pay the proprietors so we can leave. I’m tired of Athens already. Regardless, we ought to leave before Stolas is finished with that boy and senses that something’s wrong. What’s worse is that the hotel maids haven’t cleaned this suite properly. It smells like all the parts of primates that I despise.”

    “Where are we going next, madam?” Caius wondered.

    “Oh, if only I cared that all the others are going to be upset for calling them back to me so soon. I honestly didn’t think I’d succeed this quickly. Anyway—find Svipul. We’ll meet her wherever she is, and wherever that is, book a suite for all of us that meets my standards. And make sure that it doesn’t reek of mammalian excretion, or this will be the last private errand you make with me.”

    Astaroth wasn’t paying attention to Caius’ nod of compliance, for she was entranced by the Ashera Didilak. “And Caius…”

    “Yes, madam?”

    “Mention none of this to Svipul. Let her believe that she’s ‘helping’.”

    The Hotel Lenox
    An old postcard of the Hotel Lenox.

    Svipul and her Neku Kazuko had been tracking down information about Rose Nielsen in Boston when Astaroth, Caius and the rest of her demon entourage took up at the Hotel Lenox. While Kazuko had gone off on her own to follow a lead, Svipul joined Astaroth and the others in the pretense of dining in the hotel’s restaurant. She looked rather pleased and declared, “Kazuko reports that—”

    Astaroth glared at her, and Svipul went silent. It was clear that a silent exchange had begun between the two Apokomistai. Astaroth said, “Svipul, we must be more careful than to announce our future plans in public. Given the circumstances, I’d imagine that you’d be more panicked.”

    Svipul had switched gears, and she followed Astaroth’s lead. “What were you able to find out about Itzamná?”

    “It’s useless. I can’t defeat him. I’ll just have to negotiate with him,” Astaroth explained.

    “And how do you intend to do that?” Svipul asked.

    “The good news is that I have something that an angel wants. I’ll just have to arrange an exchange with him, like we’d discussed before, and maybe he’ll leave me alone. I was really hoping to get through 1936 without a battle,” Astaroth said.

    “Where were you thinking?”

    “Don’t play stupid. We’ve already booked the suite for the week, and I don’t want to make it too easy for him. Boston’s nice and public. Even kind of quaint. He won’t be at risk to spill the beans about what he is if we take the fight to him,” Astaroth replied.

    Astaroth, Svipul and the others kept up the appearances of dining until the earlier hours crept over Boston. A few of the Nekus left to practice ill deeds upon a few of the humans who’d had the misfortune of lodging at the Lenox, and Astaroth and Svipul had retired to the suite. As the dawn was breaking, Caius reported to his mistress’ side. “It’s accomplished, madam.”

    “Explain,” Astaroth demanded.

    “Stolas believes that you stole his ellamadus so that you might use it to buy your pardon from Itzamná, madam,” Caius said.

    Astaroth clapped her hands. “Excellent! Thank you, Caius.”

    “It’s my pleasure, madam,” Caius answered.

    “Oh, and Caius? Round up all the others. I need to see them now,” Astaroth said.

    Caius did as she ordered, and all her Nekus returned to her suite. It didn’t matter to her who had betrayed her confidence to Stolas or questioned her strength against a Watcher, but after a few fiery moments, the only Neku left in existence within the entire city of Boston was Caius.

    Dominus tecum.

    On to Astaroth’s Wager, Part X.

  • Astaroth’s Wager, Part VIII

    Back to Astaroth’s Wager, Part VII.

    Demons, like angels, have their own system of classification that is remotely similar to the angels’ Orders. Apokomistai and Nekus alike are divided into what demons call Estates. Whereas our Orders are were permanent and were assigned to us by God based upon the gifts we received from our Graces, the Estates are, for the most part, a hierarchy based upon a demon’s abilities in terms of their strength and intelligence, with strength typically tipping the balance whenever there is a dispute. Unlike the Orders, a demon’s Estate can change over time, so that a demon can acquire more power and/or territory over time, and many demon wars have occurred as a result of attempts to ascend to a different Estate. There are thirteen Estates, and they are, from the highest rank to the lowest, Kings and Queens, Princes and Princesses, Presidents, Chancellors, Dukes and Duchesses, Margraves and Margravines, Counts and Countesses, Viscounts and Viscountesses, Barons and Baronesses, Knights and Dames, Generals, Devils and Demons. To date, no Neku has ever been able to claim an Estate higher than General, although there have been a few exceptions in which a handful have received the Estate of Knight or Dame as an honorary distinction that isn’t recognized by anyone except their master. All the other ranks are reserved exclusively for the Apokomistai.

    Temple of Athena Nike
    A contemporary postcard of the Temple of Athena Nike.

    Princess Astaroth, as she was styled at the time, went to Athens to seek out the Apokomistis Stolas, who was then the King of Greece and Anatolia. Stolas’ power wasn’t necessarily in the territory he held but in the objects that were within his control. He had obtained his Estate when he rescued all the grimoires, both ellamadi and a shocking number of other magical objects from the destructive fires that consumed the Library of Alexandria. The result was that Stolas was able to wield a profound amount of magical power and he gladly took the credit for having burned the Library to the ground in 48 BC, even though the true source of the blaze that swallowed all that ancient human knowledge came from a drunken dare gone horribly wrong by a few of Julius Caesar’s soldiers. After he left Egypt, the Viscount Stolas went to Athens and made a play for King Dantalion’s territories. Dantalion’s magical knowledge wasn’t enough to compete with Stolas’ dumb luck, and Stolas encased him within a mystical pocket in which he is still trapped at this very moment. King Stolas remained in Athens, minding his treasures and his reputation with a legion of Nekus in his command to help him look after the wares that propelled him upward from his relative obscurity as a Viscount. However, given the method of his claim to King, he often looked after his affairs with a more than adequate measure of paranoia. He consequently steered clear of almost all of the other Apokomistai and had an alarmingly high rate of turnover with his Nekus, usually killing them within a year of their birth. Most Nekus live to be a few hundred years old at the very least.

    Astaroth arrived alone and unannounced on the steps of his opulent palace in the late evening hours of that same day, June 4, 1936. The twenty-nine infant Nekus who were serving as the outdoor sentinels provided some resistance to her confident march into the palace, and they invited a dozen more from inside the palace to join in the struggle until they all understood what she was based upon her strength. They immediately backed off in fear and sent word to their King that a Princess had arrived. She strode unaccompanied into a drawing room in which Stolas was feasting upon a young boy that his Nekus had kidnapped for their master’s enjoyment.

    “I need it,” Astaroth announced.

    “No. But it’s nice to see you again, Asta,” Stolas answered, and he wiped the boy’s blood off his hands with an embroidered handkerchief. “You know I don’t like being interrupted, and I know you wouldn’t come in here asking for such a valuable object. Not really. You have something else in mind, don’t you?”

    “I don’t. I want it. You’ll have it back in a year. Exactly a year from today, if you like. I’ll give you whatever you want as collateral,” Astaroth said.

    Stolas issued an amused chuckle. “It’s not for loaning. It’s not for anything except admiring with genuine awe. It’s mine, and it’s not going anywhere.”

    “Fine. King Sitri wants it,” Astaroth said.

    “Sitri wouldn’t send you on an errand to claim such a thing. He’d come to claim it personally. So let’s not dwell on that non-negotiable,” Stolas said. “Would you like a boy before I throw you out? My Nekus brought me a fresh batch just today. They’re from Crete. You can actually taste the Mediterranean in their flesh. Come on—try one.”

    “I’ve never acquired a taste for primate flesh,” Astaroth replied.

    “You’re missing out if you only dine on their souls,” Stolas said. He turned to a Neku and said, “Bring her a boy and a proper soul-drinking vessel.”

    “I suppose I could stay for a moment. I might be able to convince you to part with it—” Astaroth said.

    “Not a chance. But I’m not having all my Nekus forcefully eject you from the premises until you’ve tried one.”

    Astaroth remained in the palace for an hour, carefully extracting the soul of the boy that Stolas’ Nekus had brought to her and savoring it slowly. She thanked Stolas for his hospitality, made a final plea for it, left without further complaint and went to meet Caius in the hotel suite that he had secured for her barely a couple of hours prior.

    “Was my initial diversion large enough?” Astaroth inquired.

    “It was perfect, madam,” Caius answered.

    “You were able to get in?”

    “Yes, madam.”

    “And were you able to lift it without any of those incompetent Nekus ever suspecting anything?” Astaroth asked with growing enthusiasm.

    “Yes, madam.”

    “And you’ve got it now?!” Astaroth demanded excitedly.

    “Indeed, madam,” Caius said. He handed her a small, silvery mechanism that looked like a combination of a pocket watch and a tiny globe. It was the same object that Stolas had refused to loan her. It was the most powerful thing he had, for it was a store of the most potent magics available. It was an ellamadus.

    Happy New Year to all of you who mark time using the Gregorian Calendar! Dominus vobiscum.

    On to Astaroth’s Wager, Part IX.

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