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Falcifer - Lord of Darkness
(Deofel Quartet, Volume I)
Anton Long
Order of Nine Angles
First issued 1976 e.n.
This corrected text (v.1.01) issued 119 Year of Fayen
Prologue
The chant rose towards its demonic climax:
Agios o Atazoth! Suscipe, Satanas, munus quod tibi offerimus...
There was no wind on the high hill to snatch the chanted words away, and the naked
dancers twirled faster and faster around the altar under the moonlit sky of night,
frenzied from their dance and by the insistent beat of the tabors.
The two red-robed cantors sang their Satanic chant to its end while, nearby, Tanith the
Mistress, as the elder prophetess, uttered words for her Grand Master to hear: "From
the Circle of Arcadia he shall come bearing the gift of his youth as sacrifice and key to
open the Gate to our gods..."
Swiftly then to the ground the circling dancers fell almost exhausted: ruddied by
Bacchus the Great and the force of the dance as, around the altar on which Tanith
writhed, the orgy of lust began...
^^^^^^^
I
Hull, East Riding of Yorkshire, late 1960's (e.n.)
The room was dark, although the candles on the altar had been lit, and Conrad could dimly see the
witches preparing for the ritual. Their High Priestess wore a scarlet robe and came toward him, her
bare feet avoiding the circle painted on the floor and the bowls of incense which not only filled the
room with a sweet smelling perfume but also added to its darkness.
"Please", she said to him, pressing his hand with hers before re-arranging her long hair so it fell
around her shoulders, "do try and relax."
Then she was moving around the room, dispensing final directions to the members of her coven. It all
seemed rather boring and devoid of real magick to Conrad and he began to regret his acceptance. He
felt uncomfortable dressed in a suit while the others wore robes.
"Nigel!" he heard the Priestess shout, “please do not place our book on the floor!" She retrieved her
copy of the
Book of Shadows
and placed it on the altar before ringing the small altar bell. "Let us
begin." she said.
She stood in the centre of the circle, the four men and two women around her, raising her hands
dramatically before intoning her chant.
"Darksome night and shining moon, harken to our Wiccan rune. East then South then West then
North, harken to our calling forth..."
She was twirling round, and beneath her thin robe, Conrad could see her breasts. He found her
sexually alluring, and followed her movements intently. Perhaps, he thought, it would not be so
boring after all... suddenly, the candles flickered and spluttered. There was no breeze as cause and the
sudden darkness was unexpected. Conrad could sense the High Priestess near him but his groping
hand could not find her body.
"What is it?" he heard a nervous male voice ask.
The incense became thicker, and several of the coven coughed.
"There is nothing wrong - really!" came the confident voice of the Priestess. "Nigel - do light the
candles again."
Nobody moved. A light appeared above the altar, red and circular. It began to pulse before moving up
to swoop down and burn one of the coven. The victim fell screaming to the ground while the light
moved to rest above Conrad's head, suffusing him with its glow.
He could see the High Priestess frantically making passes in the air with her hands and mumbling
"Avante Satanas!" as she did so. But her words and gestures had no effect on him, for she was only
an ineffectual Priestess of the Right Hand Path while he knew in that moment he was chosen.
Then the pulsing light was gone, and the candles once more lit the room.
"The lights! Will someone turn on the lights!" Her voice was strained, and Conrad smiled.
The coven gathered behind her in their protective circle as if for comfort. "Go, please go," she asked
him. "You are no longer welcome here. I sense evil."
"Yes," Conrad replied, "I will go. But I will return." He stepped toward her and kissed her lips but she
drew away. "You are very beautiful," he said, "and are wasted here."
The coldness outside the house refreshed him so that he remembered he had forgotten his coat and
that a number 65C bus would bus would take him back to his University. The sodium lit streets
seemed to possess an eerie beauty in the darkness of winter and as he walked slowly along them, the
sense of the power he had felt became just a vague yet disturbing unease.
A bus disgorged him near the campus and he wandered along the concrete paths that entwined the
University without noticing the man following him. He recalled Neil's challenge to his skepticism
about witchcraft and magick, the invitation his friend had quickly arranged to the coven meeting and
his own laughter. It would be interesting, he had thought, and he would watch with scientific
detachment while the simple souls indulged their sexual fantasies under cover of the Occult.
Several times he stopped as he remembered the sensual beauty of the High Priestess, the rich
fragrance of the incense, his kiss, and several times he turned around, intent on returning to her
house. But the power, the arrogant assurance, he had felt in her house as the strange light suffused
him with it's glow was gone, and he was only a first year Undergraduate studying science, awkward
and shy with women.
Instead, he walked to the house near the campus which Neil shared with some other students. Neil
was pleased to see him. They sat in his room while in the house loud music played.
"You're back early," Neil said, and smiled.
Conrad wasted no time on trivialities. "I want you to tell me about magick."
"You're seriously interested, then?"
Conrad thought of the High Priestess, her voluptuous body, and said, "Yes!"
"Well, as you know, I have some little interest in, and knowledge of, the subject."
"So - the aim of the sorcerer is to control those forces or powers which are Occult or hidden from our
everyday perception?"
Neil seemed surprised. "Yes, exactly. Have you been reading up on the subject?"
"No."
"Then how - "
Conrad shrugged his shoulders. "It was an obvious and logical deduction."
Neil smiled. His own background was artistic, his home the city and port from which the University
derived its name, and he had met the gaunt-faced Conrad a month before while distributing leaflets
on campus. Conrad had read the proffered document and, in the discussion that followed, demolished
its content logically and effectively. The earnest young man, dressed in a suit in contrast to the casual
clothes of all the other students, had impressed him.
"Basically," Neil said, "magick symbolizes the various forces, sometimes in terms of gods, goddesses
or demons, and sometimes in purely symbolic forms. Knowledge of such symbolism forms the basis
of controlling them - according to the desire or will of the sorcerer."
"I see."
"Of course, some people believe such entities - gods, demons and so on - exist in reality, external to
us. Others believe such forms are really only part of our sub-conscious and our unconscious. In
practical terms, it does not matter which: the means of gaining control are essentially the same."
"So, where is all this symbolism?" He pointed at the rows of books in the room.
Neil handed him one. "That gives the essentials of ceremonial magick. It is based on what most
Occultists believe is the Western tradition of magick."
Conrad glanced through the book. "Which is?"
"The Qabalistic. The Occult world and the forces within it are represented by what is called the Tree
of Life which consists of ten stages or sephira. Each sephira corresponds to certain things in the
world - human, divine, and of course demonic."
Conrad looked directly at him. "Most Occultists, you say? Then what do you believe?"
Neil was not surprised by Conrad's insight. "There is another tradition - a secret one."
"Which is?"
"It has many names."
"I'm sure. Are you going to tell me or not?"
"I have only heard of it second-hand so to speak. It is a sinister tradition - some would say Satanic. It
is based on a division of seven as against the qabalistic ten. Hence one of it's names - the septenary
system."
"And you have details of this system?"
"I know some people who know a group who use it."
"And through such a magickal system one could obtain one's desire?"
"It is possible, yes."
"Then when can I meet them - these Black Magickians?"
II
"So you are the Black Magickian I have heard so much about?" Conrad gave the man a disdainful
look before sitting in the proffered chair.
The room, like the man, was not impressive. Dreary paintings hung from drab walls and a human
skull lay atop a pile of paperback books containing horror stories.
"Some call me a Black Magickian." The man was dressed in black and wore a medallion around his
neck bearing the symbol of the inverted pentagram. "Your friend Mr. Stanford informed me of your
interest in the Black Arts. There are rumours about you."
"Is that so?"
"Why have you come here?" the man asked.
"You hold certain meetings."
"Possibly."
"Meetings which attract a good many people."

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