Enter the Demons--The Sorcerer Gaumata

Enough of this! I used this vile custom against my enemy. Rustem stared at his daughter with his mouth agape, then ordered her out to the Bleeding Hut. She began to cry and the Sorceress Anahita took pity on her and went with her to the cold and dark hut. The women had to leave the house now, because I would make sure that Rustem adhered to the custom of isolating menstruating females, no matter that he was terrified of being alone. The mother seemed determined to accompany her daughter to the bleeding hut. That was an unexpected boon, for she was the real problem. I chuckled again when I considered the thrill of sharing and enhancing Rustem’s fear. I rubbed my hands together and grinned at the image of Rustem gawking at the awful red stain, and feeling the demons crowd into the room. In his mind, the poor, big lout could hear the demons scuttling awkwardly, and his hands shook as his eyes darted around the room. This is going to be fun, I thought.

http://www.extasybooks.com/pride-of-the-beast/

Son Of Fire

http://www.extasybooks.com/son-of-fire-10/

In a world lit only by ancient fires, passion and danger await.


    
    

Dragons and sorcerers populate Atar’s world. A lost prince taken in by a tribe of savage Scythians, he is hated and abused because of his disabilities. He does not know that he is to be the next Firestarter. As he is forced to confront evils he never imagined possible, he also gains the strength to find his voice and his honor. Watching and hating him, his half-brother, son of the evil wizard Dahaka, waits for the opportunity to take away Atar’s destiny for himself. How will Atar and his werewolf companion and lover, Bulliwuf, thwart an evil they cannot see?

Excerpt:

Atar crept out of the camp. He could feel the night wind. It still had a chill of winter. The moon was waxing high in the clear sky and it shone on the landscape like an eerie noontime sun. Atar felt his breath quicken. Tonight was a time of celebration, especially since he had been miraculously granted his boon. 
    


He was dancing, he realized with a distant part of himself. He was moving his graceful, muscular body in the moonlight to the sweetest sound he had ever heard. It was the sound of a young girl, sighing as she discovered the passion of love for the first time, yet this voice was deep, ancient, and eternal. He laughed richly, throwing his head back, delighted with life. He was alone, he knew, and this knowledge allowed him to dance in honor of that odd, achingly beautiful voice without any inhibitions.
    
    

Out of the dark emerged a tall form, resplendently silver in the moonlight. Atar stood suddenly dazed as he recognized the werewolf. 
    
    

His silvery hair shone in the dark. His eyes, so cunning in the face of a wolf, still held a deep mystery. In one large hand he held a bouquet of exquisite flowers. These he handed to Atar, who was too stunned to speak.
    
    

“Is this how it is done, my dear Atar? I saw you give such a thing to the girl. I was hoping…”
    
    

Atar was used to speaking with Bulliwuf mentally. This was perhaps why he never spoke to the others. Only Bulliwuf understood. He struggled to speak. He opened his mouth, but only a sigh emerged as Bulliwuf pulled him closer, so that their bodies met. Atar felt the hardness of the werewolf, and his heat. The flowers fell from his hand as his arms instinctively embraced Bulliwuf’s strong back. The werewolf buried his nose in Atar’s hair, snuffing as he usually did. His hot tongue, so familiar, lapped around his ear. Hot desire emanated from the silvery form. Atar went stiff with the sensation. He held on as if his life depended on it, and the heat from the naked werewolf seemed to seep into every part of his willing body. 

He’d always found acceptance with Bulliwuf. To be loved fully, to be an object of desire, rather than of scorn made him feel confused and weak. Bulliwuf took his face in his large hands and held him as he kissed Atar deeply. He took of him hungrily, until Atar was breathless. Their hot bodies intertwined, and Atar felt his soul rise to places he’d never imagined existed.

My Favorite Demons and Monsters, Part 1

I draw from world mythology to create demons and monsters in my stories. Zohak is such a demon. His myth begins deep in antiquity in the tales of the early Iranians. When we look at these myths, we have to be aware that there are many variants, and that a myth develops in time.

Zohak is the villain in the Fire Chronicles (Son of Fire, Trial by Fire, Burned Dreams, and Banner of Fire), as well as the Fire Demon Chronicles (not yet published.) His story is one pieced together from the Indo-European dragon mythology. Azhi means a dragon or dragon snake in Old Iranian. The dragon was often depicted as hoarding water in mountains, causing drought.

Azhidahaka (Dahaka is a shortening of his name, and Zohak is a later spelling) is a three-headed dragon in Iranian myth. I use Dahaka as the name for Zohak’s wizard father). This dragon tries to steal away the Royal xwarnah, (in later Persian Farr).

Azhi Dahaka’s myth tells about how he ruled after the first king, Yima (Jamshid). He rules for 1,000 years, during which time he experiments with breeding half human, half demon creatures, and works sorcery of all sorts.

He is finally chained in Mount Damavand until the end of the cycle, when he will break out and terrorize the world, eating a full third of humans and animals in existence.

In the Fire Chronicles, I combine these motifs. Dahaka, the evil wizard brother of the Firestarter Anacharsis, wants glory and kingship, but he doesn’t have the power to overcome his brother. He steals Anacharsis’ love, Queen Cunaxa the Pure, and produces a son, Zohak. Anacharsis later has a son by Cunaxa, Atar, who is destined to be the next Firestarter and king of the Seven Kingdoms. Throughout the books, a giant boar with golden hooves and tusks follows Atar, whose name means fire. This boar represents the royal Farr, or power of kingship granted by the gods, in Persian myth.

Zohak covets power and longs to gain the throne, but finally, he does so only by selling his soul, unwittingly, to the demons. In one Persian myth, Zohak is an Arab who has as a mentor the Devil Iblis. Zohak starts out as a good son, but he has an evil seed in his heart. Iblis appears to him as a lovely boy who steals his heart. Zohak is irritated with his father, Merdas, who has a generous heart, and gives too much to the poor. Iblis councils him to kill his father, but Zohak can’t stand the thought of it. Iblis does it for him by digging a hole in a garden path Merdas takes in the predawn hours to pray in his garden. When the poor man falls in, evil Iblis buries him alive.

Now when Zohak goes to Iran and conquers the region, Iblis appears again in a different guise, as a comely young cook. He corrupts Zohak further. Zohak does not eat animals, for at this time, people were more civil. First Iblis introduces eggs into his diet, then meats of all sorts until Zohak is hopelessly hooked. Zohak is most pleased and offers Iblis a boon. Iblis asks only that he be allowed to kiss Zohak’s bare shoulders.

When he does so, a horrific snake-dragon breaks through each shoulder. They demand the brains of innocent humans as food. So, Zohak goes from being ambitious, to being a monster himself. Eventually, the only way to stop him is to chain him up in a cave in Mount Damavand, where he still lives today, waiting to be released.

The Fire Chronicles follow Zohak as he goes from being a jealous brother to a demi-demon who can’t be killed. He is a tragic figure, because he is tricked by the Devil, but only because he has the seed of evil in his heart.