The Case of the Heinous Slaughter

I have explained to you before that I am living at the residence of a self-styled farmer by the name of KB Forrest. He owns well over 100 acres of land infested with every manner of varmint. He admits this, yet refuses to find a more habitable location. This morning he went to feed animals, which he keeps for some sort of sadistic pleasure. He has furry rabbits, pigeons with tails like peacocks, and some with feathers sprouting in topknots from their heads. There are strange quail, ducks, chickens, peacocks, pheasants, and all manner of rare creatures that seem to have been bred by a madman.
In any case, when he returned to the house, I was foraging for a morning meal with my fledgling Tigran, who was tearing up a bag he found. I do not know what it contained. I noticed that the man, Forrest, looked dejected and unhappy. Being a good guest, I asked why? He said that although he had fortified the large cages thoroughly, something had magically entered one of them and had killed all of his beloved pigeons. The apparition, as he called it, had done other unspeakable damage. He asked for my help.
I followed him with Tigran loping alongside me. I saw a profusion of colorful feathers strewn about. It made Tigran hungry, but I cautioned him to refrain. A flayed skull of a bird was the first flesh I saw. Next, what was once a graceful white bird lay with its belly torn open and the ribs cleaned of flesh. A mound of bird legs and heads were in a corner, but mostly they had been simply killed and thrown to the side.
The most grotesque sight was the rabbits. They had been white with dark ears and a profusion of fur around the necks. He called them “lion heads.” Three of them had been attacked, but not killed. Two had missing eyes. All had been mauled about the face and were bloodied. I even saw one struggling to breathe.
“Why do you not put them to death so as to stop their suffering?” I asked. But I should have known that squeamish man would refuse, saying that he would try to save them. “Would you like me to kill them, then?” I offered, knowing that he was simply delicate.
“How could the creature have gotten in? There are no holes in the wire,” he asked, avoiding my question. “I have sealed off any means of entry!” he cried.
“I will investigate,” I said, thinking that if any evil were perpetrated in my area, I would not allow it unless it was my own. Sorcerers are quite territorial. I will investigate and tell you my findings.

Psamtik's Mother--The Sorcerer Gaumata

The work done for the day, Matwa went to Psamtik, the pharaoh-to-be’s quarters. The wretch’s mother had called him. Psamtik was asleep in his mother’s arms. He slept naked and his mother looked fondly at his skinny, angular body. His shiny shaved head showed off many bumps and irregularities. He had had an erection in his sleep and she stroked it down gently. Matwa stood a while and finally cleared his throat, causing Psamtik to stir and grit his teeth, making an awful grinding sound. The woman looked up and smiled proudly as she slipped out of the bed.

“Matwa, how are the arrangements for his ascension progressing? I feel that the priesthood is not very enthusiastic about my son’s coronation, and I want to know that the army will be loyal.” She paced silently. “At least we have you, Matwa. I’m sure you can control the other priests.”
Matwa nodded, “Yes Your Grace, I will do my best. Every thing is going as planned.”

http://www.extasybooks.com/the-sorcerers-secret-5/

{WARNING} Contains scenes of extreme violence that may be offensive to some readers. Fire—dreams of Fire—visions of Fire. Where do they come from? Aryazate doesn’t know why, but he fears the power secretly growing in him. Am I a demon, or a sorcerer? Kavada, the blacksmith, seems to be the only one he can trust, but even he doesn’t know the extent of Aryazate’s secrets. What would he say if he found out that the beautiful maiden Aryazate, is really a young man forced by circumstances to conceal this truth, which day by day becomes more evident? Just when he thinks Kavada is ready to hear the truth, Aryazate’s worst nightmares become reality. The Head-Mage Monushir accuses him of sorcery and has him imprisoned. What will this trial reveal? Is the truth so horrible that Aryazate will welcome torture and death by fire—by the same fire that haunts his dreams?

The Pharaoh--The Sorcerer Gaumata

The following was related to me by a trusted follower, who I killed later. I include this so that you will have some idea as to the situation in Egypt as King Cambyses made his plans to invade:

The body of the Pharaoh Ahmose lay on a stone slab. He was dressed splendidly. Even his crown was propped into place. His arms lay crossed on his chest in the manner of a mummy and the two scepters glinted in the sunlight. Attendants walked noiselessly through the room as a phalanx of shaved-headed priests dressed in pure white stood looking at the body, as if it would get up at any moment and address them. The Pharaoh had finally entered the underworld, where he would rule forever. The heat of the day was intense. Matwa, the head priest, knew that he must give the order that the body of the god-king be taken to the royal embalmers. He hesitated because his heart was heavy with thoughts of the state of Egypt.
The great Pharaoh Ahmose was truly the god on earth and now he was Osiris and would rule the underworld. None of the priests surrounding the dead pharaoh showed any emotion, for this was a time of grave peril for the king. His body had to be prepared and this might take up to six weeks. The tomb was well prepared—it had been for the last thirty years. A priest used a fly whisk to make sure no insect landed on the king.
No, it wasn’t the fact that the pharaoh had gone to the underworld that bothered Matwa, but that he had left no real successor. The son who had been groomed for the throne of Upper and Lower Egypt was now dead. He preceded his father in death, thanks to the Greeks. Pharaoh Ahmose had been keen on strengthening his ties with the Greeks, but Ahmose III had died in a shipwreck on his way to Greece on an expedition.
Now they were left only with the sickly and effeminate Psamtik III. The priesthood opposed his ascension, but his mother was far more powerful than the other queens and it would be impossible to change the course of events now. Matwa had been in favor of a lesser ranked son, Ankhare, who was serving as the army commander. He was virile and steadfast. Psamtik, on the other hand...

http://www.extasybooks.com/sorcerer-in-egypt/

The Prince and the Girls--The Sorcerer Gaumata

Now Prince Cambyses was assured the position of King of Kings. I had made it possible. What a clever fellow I am! I was becoming quite settled in the palace, inside of his head. The only thing was that I needed somehow to control his sexual urges. It was disgusting the way his body seemed always alert for women. One day, I saw that my training was finally taking root.

A sound from the curtained doorway made Cambyses glance up briefly. Sarada, one of the youngest of Prince Cambyses’ wives came into the room where he sat, head down, as he inspected some of the precious items he had taken from his father’s quarters. She wanted to sit on his lap, as was her custom when she wanted to complain about one of her senior co-wives. 

Cambyses was annoyed, but he allowed her to climb onto his lap as he examined a small, filigreed locket. She was babbling on. Usually he found her as adorable as a newborn filly, but today, an odd rage seemed to well up within him. Her words grated on his senses and this startled him because usually he was able to tune her out completely until she was ready to go to bed with him.

“And so it I was just standing there and she said did I say you could wear my shift? And I said, well, why not, you once used the ring I left on the table that time, and she said well you stole that from me, don’t you remember? And so anyway then...”

Cambyses let his knee go limp and the girl began to slip to the floor. She grabbed him around the neck and tried to kiss him, but he shied away. Abruptly, she pulled back and wiped her lips on her sleeve.

“What is that smell? Maybe you were holding baby Xerxes on your lap? And maybe he pooped on you?”

Cambyses pushed her to the floor violently and glared at her as if she were an enemy. She ran crying from the room and Cambyses called his steward to fix him a hot bath. He just had to bathe and get the awful feel of that woman off of him. How could he bear those women—there were just so many of them swarming in his quarters, in the gardens, everywhere. “If anyone smells it’s them— the dirty evil creatures,” he growled. He stood swaying slightly as his eyes filmed over. He smiled sardonically and began to undress.

That, my friends, was my doing. My personality was beginning to rise in him.

Assassinate the Assassins--The Sorcerer Gaumata

The next day, the victorious assassin squad was near the city when a scout reached Prince Cambyses. “I see the traitors that I was to watch for, Oh Prince! They are still outside the city.”

“Prepare the troops. They are to die, each and every one of them. Do not bring me prisoners. I have been informed that they have plotted to take my life, but nobody knew why they left the city but my informant. They were conspiring with the old Babylonian priesthood to kill me before I could ascend the throne,” Cambyses watched the scout’s eyes widen. His own face was grave, but in his heart he was jubilant, for he knew now that his brother was dead. The plan was going wonderfully. He had Bardiya killed by the assassins, now he would have the troops kill the assassins. His dark secret would die with them.

http://www.devinedestinies.com/seeing-crimson/

My Wickedly Ingenious Plan--The Sorcerer Gaumata

Now it was time to really get to work. I made sure that by the morning, Prince Cambyses had totally forgotten about his foray to the garden Quiet Room. As planned, the princes and magi, as well as some other nobles close to the dead king, Cyrus the Great, assembled to witness the demolition of the Quiet Room. Many tears were shed as the building was beaten down until only a pile of limestone lay in its place. There was much to do. The magi would oversee the transition of the throne, not that Cambyses agreed with that, but it was the protocol. 

The biggest problem was that succession was far from a settled fact. Some of the magi thought that there should be a period of waiting and finally they won out. I had to make sure that Cambyses won the throne, for he was my vehicle.

Cambyses and his brother were expected to deal with the problems that were plaguing the empire with the king’s passing. Many of the upstart kingdoms saw this as a time to rebel. Prince Bardiya was set to go to the far off kingdom of Susa to the east. Cambyses knew that he should return to Babylon, where he had been ruling, if only to quell the rumors, but he did not think it was safe to leave the capital at such a time. And there was the problem of settling the question of succession for once and for all.

Prince Bardiya was setting out for Susa, where he would quell the rebellion before returning for the decision of the magi.  Bardiya didn’t even know if he wanted to rule at all. What I got from the mind of Cambyses was that all his brother wanted was to hunt all day. 

I made a plan and let it enter my victim’s mind. His rage and fear that he would lose the throne made him a more than willing participant. He called together a secret meeting with a few of his most adept assassins. They would follow Bardiya as he made his way to Susa, but while the royal party slept, they would attack and kill the prince. They were to hide his remains along with those of his party. Even horses would have to be killed and hidden in the vast series of craggy cliffs and ravines.

http://www.extasybooks.com/curse-of-two-spirit/

The Stolen "Gift"--The Sorcerer Gaumata

The night before the demolition, he decided to break in. I floated above him reading his thoughts as he moved quietly in the dark. Prince Cambyses was stealthy in the darkness of the royal gardens. He knew the area quite well, having killed many imaginary foes in the winding, flowery paths as a youth. It was very dark, providing the cover he would need. So far, he had only met one guard, for most of them were posted on the outside of the gardens and grounds. His father, Cyrus, never wanted them in his private area. He slunk toward the Quiet Room with no guilt in his heart at all. He had never loved his father. Hell, he rarely ever spoke to him. Instead of seeking advice from his true son, the old coot would rather go to the magi. Now he would see what riches were stored there, for he thought it was a thing of greed that his father wanted them to bury the jewels along with himself. He had found the key after searching through his father’s personal things.

The door opened easily and he slipped in. He lit the small candle that he had in his pocket. The room had no windows, but the roof of it was open in places, making it smell fresh. The twinkling stars above were enchanting. He could see why his father had loved this place so. He stopped his musings and got to work. He would check methodically and find whatever was in here before it was destroyed. Nobody would ever know. Looking around, he found that it was a spartan place, aside from its natural beauty. There were rare flowering bushes inside the walls. They were able to get sun from the open roof and yet they were protected from the winds by the walls. He checked under and around these bushes. The floor was simply earth except for the marble blocks used in paths. These all seemed to be undisturbed and grass grew between them. He decided that no recent digging had taken place.

He saw that there was a stone throne in a dark corner, but little else. It must be the place of the wealth, he thought, grunting with impatience. He ran over and sure enough, the throne had a lid on it—the perfect hiding place for the jewels. He moved the heavy stone cover and reached in, but could feel nothing. Laying his chest on the throne seat, he reached as far down as he could, thrusting his hand in as deeply as it would extend. There was something soft and mushy at the bottom of that hole. He quickly pulled out his hand and gagged as he held it stiffly in front of him. He dared not shake it, but began to wipe it on the stone floor. The smell seemed to have hands that caressed his face, although he struggled against it. It was thick and he felt it work its way up his nostrils. He felt it pry his lips apart and slip past the rows of clenched teeth. His lungs were full now, as if the stench were a solid thing.

“It won’t ever go away,” he muttered in panic. He ran out of the room and stuck his hand into a nearby pool. He began to wash and wash, but the substance was viscous and it lingered, slimy against his skin. The smell lingered, too. He pulled up a clump of grass and used the roots and dirt to scrub at his hand, but it slid back and forth in the slime. He scuttled toward his apartments and washed again, attempting to rub off the slippery sludge that clung to it. Finally, in desperation, he doused himself with strong perfumes and then he changed out of his sweaty clothes and went to bed.

Thus, I had found the perfect opportunity to enter Cambyses’s mind. It was so simple in that one moment of shock. The fear of the king’s curse helped instill terror into the heart of the prince. From now on it would be simple. I made a place for myself in the mind of the prince and prepared for the next step in my plan. “It was just too easy,” I said aloud as I rubbed my hands together in an ecstasy that threatened to boil over.

http://www.extasybooks.com/la-bruja-2/

So Little Time, So Many Enemies to Kill!! The Sorcerer Gaumata

I was happy now with both Rustem and Cyrus the Great dead. I had punished them for deforming my lovely body. But I was not completely satisfied. It was enough to make me rub my hands together in a kind of ecstasy. It had all gone so well. Very well, except for the fact that his original goal had not been accomplished. But they were all dead now. The King of Kings, Cyrus the Great, lay in a tomb rotting. The sorcerers Rustem and his twice-cursed sorceress wife Anahita were nothing but old shits of the buzzards that had consumed their flesh.

There was much to do yet. The next on my list was whoever would succeed Cyrus and become the next King of Kings. That would be relatively easy, but a few things stood in my way. Two of them were the children of Rustem and Anahita. I spat in disgust. I had to deal with them. And it wasn’t easy. Possessing someone was something I reveled in, but it wasn’t like I could possess two people at once. With so much work to do, I’d have to do some head hopping. It might make me easier to catch, though.

Well, for now, I would find a very good place to stash my body while I visited—and I would have to find a more trustworthy servant than the one I had just killed. That wretch! He had done a bad job of caring for my body. It smelled, and the limbs had become stiff. Although he left my fingernails grow absurdly long, he had allowed a mouse to chew on my toenails, which were chewed bloody. That hurt like hell even now. Do you still feel sorry for him? Do you still think I was too harsh? Perhaps you would do the same, so do not be so judgmental. 

http://www.extasybooks.com/the-eternal-fox-sorcerer/

Dead at Last

Cyrus the Great knew that he was a great warrior even at his advancing age. He hated to have the killing of a woman on his list of accomplishments. He felt compassion, but then suddenly rage. The thing in his head (me)—the thing that kept trying to tell him what to do and what to feel—he felt helpless to stop the power that rushed into his muscles now. He felt as strong as a young man, and he had to kill the bitch that dared to approach him swinging her little club. She was a disgusting woman, but he would deal with her now, although her filth would be polluting.

Suddenly she charged at him and they were so close that Cyrus could see the small bubbles in her saliva as she cried out. He was too close now to swing his sword. The woman was upon him in an instant, stabbing at his gut with a short sword. Cyrus was himself again suddenly. The pain was sudden and he saw a white streak before his eyes. He was afraid now. It would happen and he could do nothing to stop it. All of a sudden, he felt himself lose control of his bowels. All the treasures that they had been hoarding during this wretched trip were suddenly let loose and he could feel it in his pants. So this was how it would be, he thought miserably. 

I almost regretted leaving him, but I knew I had to push out of his mind before death took him. I did not wish to die with him, which is what would have happened. Now I tarried not. I rushed to the place where my body had hid for so long. At my arrival, my servant, the one who had been caring for my body, jumped back in alarm. I opened red-rimmed eyes and stared at him in hatred, for he knew my secrets. He had bathed my naked body for all these years. I looked around to see the miserable place and I was disgusted. He had become sloppy. My body smelled and my hair was matted. Even my fingernails were long and curling—yellowed with age.

With one hand, I grabbed his face and he screamed. I used those horny, yellow nails to gouge slices into his cheeks. Then dragging him toward my face even as he struggled, I bit his neck in a frenzy and drank of his hot blood, for my body was starved and my soul, furious.

http://www.extasybooks.com/the-sicilian-undead/

Back to Cyrus the Great and My Plan to Kill Him

When we left off, I was telling you about how I planned to exact my revenge on Cyrus the Great. I had stayed with him, learning the art of ruling while I exerted my will. Sometimes this was quite difficult, as the man was strong. People began to notice his odd behavior, especially the way he treated his wives. Previously, Cyrus had been a man who loved women, but now he was erratic, often spurning them violently. Of course, that was when I was in residence. I took to leaving when I believed he wanted to mate, for I despise that activity, as you well know. I would return to my body from time to time so that its limbs did not whither. 

I saw the chance for final revenge when a messenger arrived announcing disturbances in frontier satrapies. Among them was the kingdom of the Massagetae, fierce ex-nomads who were settled into lands north of Persia. It appeared that it was the Man-Eaters, a related Scythian tribe, which was responsible, but I guided the king to think hostile thoughts against the Massagetae, who were led by a Queen Apuyani, a witch.

I also learned that she was the sister of a witch who had taken in the daughter of the Sorcerer-Mage Rustem—my now dead enemy. I reasoned that Cyrus the Great would be terribly shamed if he were killed in battle by a woman, and I was quite certain that if a woman could do such a thing, a witch would be the one. I forced him to write a letter to the Queen, ordering her to surrender and accept marriage to the king. She answered in anger, prompting Cyrus to collect his army and move in the direction of what would be his final battle. 

http://www.extasybooks.com/der-werwolf/

I Turned Him Into This!!! HA HA!!!--The Sorcerer Gaumata

A writhing, quivering thing!

An Arrogant Would-Be Sorcerer--The Sorcerer Gaumata

As a sorcerer, I get many requests to take on students. The last student I had, met with an unfortunate end. You see, he was an annoying person who believed that simply by being tenacious he could force me to accept him. First he came forward with a fruit basket for me. I turned it into a basket of rotting limbs. He acted as if he were delighted, but I sent him away. Next he came offering me a young woman. I was horrified and immediately disappeared. This only encouraged the fool. Finally, he came with an offer. He said that I could possess his body and use it for whatever purpose I desired, but then I should take him as a disciple. I agreed just to rid myself of the man.

First I will tell you a little about this would-be-disciple. His name was Martyn. Of course, this spelling is ridiculous, but he was a young man, whose parents thought an aberrant spelling of a name would make their little bundle of piss and shit special. He certainly thought he was very special. He had arrogance written all over his face. He was especially in love with his own features. His lips—oh, how he loved those tiny lips with their cupid’s bow and pink color a woman might envy. His nose was well shaped. His eyes were comely enough, except for the fact that being a blond, his eyelashes were almost white, making him appear to be a cow. All in all, he thought that he was the picture of handsome masculinity. I thought not, for you see, the arrogant are ugly. It cannot be hidden under good looks.

I decided to get rid of Martyn by taking up his offer, so I entered his mind. As soon as I did, I realized, to my fury, that he had planned this all along. He wanted to possess me! Not my body. He wanted to possess my sorcerer’s mind. He was part of a young people’s group that thought themselves to be vampires, werewolves, sorcerers, witches, and the like. He believed that he could trap me there, in his mind. One of his female friends, a self-professed witch, had provided him with a spell that was supposed to trap me, making my powers accessible to him. I chuckled low and soft, but decided to go along for the ride, making him think that I was captured.

He apologized to me as he started for his home, where his witch friend was waiting. She ordered me to make a glass levitate. I did it from within him, and they were delighted. Now they dressed in outlandish garb to attend a nightclub where others such as themselves congregated. There he was to stun his audience with “his” newly acquired talents. He wanted them to acknowledge him as a master sorcerer. Tomorrow I will tell you how it went for him, but you may already guess that it did not go as intended.

http://www.extasybooks.com/la-bruja-2/

The Rats Eat the Snakes--Revenge is Sweet--The Sorcerer Gaumata

Let me tell you a little about my plan. I wanted to kill Cyrus, but I needed to enjoy it. It was revenge. Do you remember? He and Rustem had my ears chopped off, which was painful and most of all disfiguring. Now I thought that I must humiliate the so-called great king. The road to that great humiliation was to expose his greatest fear. Ah, yes! I can know a person’s greatest fear, and I exploit that. My dear reader, think of it. What do you fear the most? Do you fear suffocation? Do you fear spiders or cockroaches? Do you fear insanity? Do you fear being exposed for what you really are? Oh yes, I can find that fear in your heart and use it against you. But for now, let me tell you my plans for Cyrus the Great. 

I have explained that he had a fear of being exposed as a normal human. Indeed, being the King of Kings, he had the reputation of being god-like. A Greek visitor once commented that Cyrus the Great was indeed the greatest monarch, for he seemed to have no bodily needs. He never had to void waste. This became his fear. Cyrus feared that someone might find out that he was a normal person who shat like we all do. 
Cyrus had a solitary room people called the “Quiet Room.” 

This room was designed by a skilled craftsman who hid in it a throne that could be converted into a commode when needed. It was a lovely little private house that opened in places to the sky, so that a variety of plants could grow in there too. The king tended to these himself, for no one, not the queens, nor the princes, what to speak of common gardeners, were allowed entrance. Once the building was complete, Cyrus had the craftsman killed, so that his secret would be safe. 

I also wanted him to commit a serious political blunder that would stain his good name in the future. There is nothing more evil than to tarnish a man’s reputation, is there? Ha! My plan was simple. I will explain it tomorrow, for now I am busy. I am not a lazy man. I like to help my host. I caught two monstrous snakes yesterday. Brimming with venom and evil, these snakes had been eating birds and mammals that humans fancy as pets. I paralyzed them with a spell then I got distracted watching two birds fight. I forgot about them, but when I returned the next morning, rats had gotten their revenge by eating them alive. Most amusing.

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

Walking Dead--The Sorcerer Gaumata

The biggest of my problems was that Rustem refused to stay dead. I do not mean like your wretchedly ignorant idea of zombies or walking dead people. I cannot believe that even having survived this long entertainment has not improved. I told you that I am staying at the domicile of a person by the name of Forrest. I stay here only on his insistence, for I need no person. If I needed what this simpleton farmer had to offer, I would possess his body. In any case, he introduced me to the flattened box he calls a TV. By some sort of witchcraft it projects the forms of small humans. We sat upon a sort of throne called a couch, and with a wand-like apparatus, he makes the forms appear. His latest interest is a play called Walking Dead People. He appears to be entertained by it, and drinks a bitter ale in a strange metal cup. I tried it, and felt insulted that he did not heat it to the correct temperature. Rather, he served it cold. I threatened to kill him for this insult, and he poured the concoction into a glass flask and placed it into a box that produced a humming noise accompanied by light. I forced him to drink some before I would sample it, for I feared he had tried to poison me.

As for the flattened forms of the Walking Dead People, it gave me an idea. However, I would not personally do this thing. I wondered if a sorcerer tried to inhabit a body, but found it to be dead. If he could not escape, this walking dead person would happen. If one could force the spirit out of a living body and make it go into a dead body, then one would not have to share the body. This has always been a problem for me, so I am thinking about how this might be best accomplished.

http://www.devinedestinies.com/kitsune-tsukis-possession/

The Horrors Inflicted Against Me--The Sorcerer Gaumata

If only the women the king kept would all die!
There were times when I dearly wanted to return to my own body. Especially when the king engaged in sex with his many wives. Although I shut my eyes against the awful sights and I tried to plug my ears against the sounds of rutting, it was of no use. Their sweating bodies would slap and squelch together. There were horrendous sucking noises and deep grunts like those made by pigs. And the desperate need to scratch that evil itch between their legs was more than I could stomach! I would lose control of my body. I hated that the most. My pelvis would begin to thrust on its own, as if possessed by a gremlin. The sight of my own reddened, swollen cock made me violently ill, yet I could not stop myself. Sometimes I beat myself about the groin in anguish, but it was as if I had no control over what should be mine. For a sorcerer possessed of so much power, it shamed me to no end that I had to undergo such suffering! But often I was able to assert myself. At these times, Cyrus would be quite cruel, throwing the woman off his bed and glaring at her in hatred. His desire and my repulsion were thus intermittently present, causing his wives to fear him greatly. They never came to his bed willingly anymore. Instead, they dreaded it. The King of Kings knew this and it made him livid with rage. Instead of discouraging him, it made him go about his task with vicious zeal, much to my horror. Time passed slowly as I waited, but I knew that soon I would kill my host and inhabit the body of his robust son, Prince Cambyses.

http://www.extasybooks.com/curse-of-two-spirit/

Rustem the Sorcerer-Mage Returns--The Sorcerer Gaumata

Rustem’s brat entered the king’s private quarters a few minutes later. Cyrus dismissed his retainers. I read in his mind that he felt quite safe alone. He kept two swords at the ready, and he was the best of warriors. That part I admired. Today you never see a world leader head up his troops as the kings of old did. They are cowards of the worst sort. 

I looked through the king’s eyes, but I found myself unable to control him properly, especially when the boy entered the room. There was something different about him, yet it was familiar. Cyrus related his dream and suddenly I was hit by an angry presence in the boy, whose head lolled to the side now. My loins clenched in fear as I felt Rustem’s spirit enter the boy’s body and begin to speak.

How could this be? I had killed the big lout! Like a vengeful ghost, he now haunted me. I was so stunned that I could only crouch in a corner of the king’s mind as he gave his interpretation. He disappeared while the king was still speaking.

“So you say that the interpretation of the magi was spurious then? I thought so, but your interpretation, although it makes sense, is quite distressing. My two sons Cambyses and Bardiya—I have really failed to watch them as closely as I should have. They are quite grown now and like the tree, they will not bend, rather they will splinter. As for my fate, it is certain that nobody, even the greatest monarchs are freed from death. I tell you, Rustem, I have been able to take refuge in your advice that we can only act for the sake of Order in this life. O...my friend...do not leave yet...I...need...”

The boy shook his head, and I knew he was back. Mihr looked at the emperor and cringed in his chair. Cyrus smiled at him to reassure him.

“Do not fear, Mihr,” he said and heaved a weary, but satisfied sigh. “I appoint you as my assistant. From now on, we shall breakfast together.”

Mihr blinked. His jaw had dropped open, giving him the look of a startled half-wit. “Assistant?” he repeated dumbly. 

“Yes, yes, I don’t know what I was thinking putting you in the Mage Hall. Your place is here. You are the son of my most trusted friend. Have the servants move your things into the Royal Suite at once. You shall be appointed the Royal Advisor.”

Thus began my travails. For the next seven years I was trapped in the body of Cyrus the Great. I almost lost my own body, because the man was resistant indeed, especially now, with Rustem’s help. Luckily, I was able to take control for long enough to order a trusted man to take care of my body, which was in a near-dead state. The body was losing weight, but slowly, because it was in suspended animation. The man would wash the body and pack it back into the tree trunk, protecting it with soft mosses after washing it and tending to its sores. He even found a solution to the insect and rodent infestations by using fragrant, repellent herbs. Still I dreaded ever having to return to that body. It had aged and grown saggy. My beautiful face was marred by the loss of my delicate ears. I burned with the need for revenge, but I also liked my new royal life of ease and plenty. 

http://www.extasybooks.com/oni-devils/

The Magi Are Fools!--The Sorcerer Gaumata

Monushir shifted positions. To me it looked as if he had bad indigestion. He finally spoke. 

“Your Highness has dreamed a dream that may have no special meaning. As you can see, it is a variation of the dream of the hated Median Emperor Astyages, your grandfather. It is different in some respects, however. You have seen a tree, rather than a flood of water. A tree symbolizes stability. That two of the main branches have rotted may mean that you may be neglecting two important aspects that keep your kingdom strong. One is the magi. We feel that following the advice of the magi and having respect for the magi is essential, if one is to maintain unity and strength. The second most important branch represents the Fire Temples in which we operate. Without the upkeep and building of these structures, your kingdom may well rot. I have spoken the words that have been inspired in me by the great Lord Ahura Mazda, as he sees fit to speak through me.” 

The head-mage seemed very pleased with himself and after swallowing back a belch, he fell into a meaningful silence.

I rubbed my hands together when I realized that Cyrus the Great needed to visit the garden Quiet Room. He was tired, yet too anxious to return to sleep. He glanced at the self- righteous, fat man with the grapefruit-sized head and snorted. “Bring me Rustem!”
“We have already informed the Emperor that Rustem the Sorcerer-Mage is dead!” Rusaspa blurted out in nasal, rapid-fire speech.

Cyrus the Great eyed him with a look that made the man wince. “Bring me his son!”

This pronouncement made my jubilation whither. I knew that after Rustem’s death, the magi had collected his son and brought him back to the palace. I worried about the son. Had he inherited his father’s gifts? The girl, his sister, was missing, so I did not worry about her. I wish I had been able to control Cyrus before he blurted out his desire to see the accursed brat! I could see that my technique still needed adjustments.

http://www.devinedestinies.com/seeing-crimson/

Revenge is Sweet--The Sorcerer Gaumata

“Eventually, the child Cyrus was brought to the Royal Court of the Median Emperor Astyages. He was put under the expert tutelage of the same Harpagus, for by this time, Astyages had entirely forgotten the incident. As time passed, Harpagus secretly instilled hatred and rebellion into the young prince’s mind. When he was grown up, Cyrus was sent back to Persia to rule the subordinate throne of Persia under the Medes.

“One day, Cyrus gathered all of his Persian court, as well as the nobles in the kingdom. He gave each an ax and sent them to chop wood all day. He did not allow them to stop for food or water. The next day he invited them for a great hunt. Afterwards they feasted all evening. Cyrus asked them to vote. Which day was more enjoyable? They all chose the hunting and feasting. King Cyrus explained in his charismatic way, that as servants to the Medes, they had no real control over their lives. They were, in fact, slaves. After his fiery speech, he invited the proud lords to join in a rebellion against the powerful Median overlords, headed by his grandfather, Emperor Astyages.

“When Astyages learned of the rebellion, the dream came back to haunt him. He was terrified, so he called his most able army officer, Harpagus, to lead the Median army to quell the rebellion, a thing they should have been able to do easily. Harpagus finally found the means to revenge the gruesome death of his son. Instead of quelling the rebellion, he joined forces with Cyrus, and they returned to the Median capital to overthrow Astyages. The dream that had haunted the Emperor had finally come true. The new combined empire under you, our lord and emperor Cyrus, has grown and prospered since then.”

Monushir bowed slightly and turned again to face Cyrus.

Cyrus glared at him. “Out with it, you bombastic fool! What is the significance of my dream?”

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

An Evil Feast--The Sorcerer Gaumata

To continue my story, the mage went on:
“Harpagus the soldier finally confessed to the king when pressed to tell the truth. By this time, the king was loathe to kill his grandson, so instead he punished the poor soldier. One day, Emperor Astyages invited Harpagus to a feast and he asked the soldier to send his young son in the morning so that he could spend some time with the other noble children before the feast. Harpagus was delighted to have been invited, and he decided that the king must have reconsidered his dire act and realized that it was better to have a noble grandson like young Cyrus.
“All of the nobles were served by porters who came and set various meats and other delightful foods on their dishes. Harpagus ate heartily of the tender meat while laughing and telling stories of his exploits along with the other men. Toward the end of the great feast, Emperor Astyages called for order. He announced that Harpagus was the guest of honor and was therefore, the only one who would partake of the last wonderful dish. The steward brought a great covered dish out before him and opened it. Harpagus’ grin turned into a rictus of terror when he saw the head of his son surrounded by his severed feet, hands, and genitals in a gaily- decorated arrangement.
‘Do you know where the fine meat that you have eaten so heartily came from?’ asked Emperor Astyages.
“For a moment, Harpagus was too stunned and grief stricken to speak, then fearing for the lives of his other family members, he said, “Yes, my Lord. I understand.” He took the remains home for the death rituals and wept bitterly for his lost favorite son.
Harpagus feared for his family after that time, but he continued to act as Astyages’ faithful and apt soldier. He would bide his time.

http://www.extasybooks.com/the-sicilian-undead/

The Meaning of the Nightmare--The Sorcerer Gaumata

As I said, this was the first time I had entered a person who was deep in a dream. It was disorienting. I felt Cyrus woke with a start.  Sweat was beaded up on his brow and upper lip.  His night clothes were damp with cold perspiration.  But he remembered the dream, as I did!  I sensed that he dared not go to sleep again because he has had this dream before, only he would always forget the dream by the time the morning would come. 
Now I discovered another strange anomaly. Cyrus is able to exert his will at times, even when I tried to take over. Yes, I had noticed that this was the case with Rustem, but he was, after all, a sorcerer. Perhaps he had put some sort of protective spell on the king. I did not know, so it worried me. It took much energy to even guide his thoughts. 
Cyrus waited for a moment in his enormous bed, sitting still in the moonlit room with his head in his hands.  I regressed to a corner of his mind, waiting, for I felt weakened. When his panicked heartbeat returned to normal, he reached out for the bell on his nightstand and began to clang it vigorously.  When the wild-eyed servant rushed in, disheveled and panicked, the King of Kings said, “Get the magi.  Assemble them into the council chamber without delay.”

There was a short silence as the magi glanced at each other after the emperor related his dream to them. The candlelight did not entirely banish the darkness in the Council Chamber and the utter silence outside added to the air of a secret meeting.
“Ahem...” Monushir the Head Mage looked at the others. “Well, speak!” Cyrus demanded. “This dream, as you well know, is remarkably similar to the dream of Astyages, the Median Emperor, and your grandfather. Will you permit me to retell this noble tale for the sake of the young magi?” Monushir asked.
Cyrus waved him on.
“As you recall, Astyages had dreamed that a great flood came from his daughter, Mandane’s womb, and had flooded the world. Calling the magi to interpret the dream, they told the Mede that his daughter’s womb would produce the man who would overthrow him. Wanting to avert such a disaster, Astyages married her to an unambitious Persian by the name of Cambyses and then sent the couple off to rule Persia. He thus tried to insure that his daughter’s son would not be a threat. He would be a Persian, owing to his father’s lines, and he would live far from the capital. Astyages had no peace, however. Later, as the dream returned, haunting his days and nights, he decided to kill the child that his daughter and the Persian, Cambyses, had produced.” He tuned to the young magi. “You understand now, that this baby would become none other than our lord, Cyrus the Great, King of Kings.” He bowed and continued.

“Sending a trusted soldier by the name of Harpagus to Persia to perform the evil deed, Emperor Astyages tried to forget about the affair and to regain some of his peace of mind. To his dismay, the dreams did not go away. They became worse. What Astyages did not know, was that the soldier had been so affected by the pleas of the princess for the innocent, but regal baby Cyrus, that instead of killing it, he left the baby prince with peasants whose baby had just died. As time passed, the child’s kingly bearing set him apart from the other peasant boys and soon the tales of a princely child reached the ears of the great Astyages, who began to suspect that his grandson Cyrus was not dead after all.”
To be continued…

http://www.extasybooks.com/burned-dreams-8/