Only a few days past the ritual and my heart had been set aflame in joy. I set about the task on my day off of erecting Lord Frimost’s altar. I arranged a small night table in the corner of the living room on which I laid a green altar cloth. I left the house and wandered into the woods, not as far as I had the other day, but strolling the sunlit paths, scrounging the ground for objects to lovingly dedicate to my Lord. I found leaves and branches, pinecones and walnuts, a wild turkey feather, and a series of speckled and curiously shaded smooth stones I found fishing the shallow riverbed.
They were all laid out upon the altar with tender care, and above them I lit the upon the goetic musky-sweet combination of incense. I poured out upon the altar a red glass of wine and lit a white wax candle.
I sat before the altar and smiled. I had nothing but gratitude for my new partner, and I knew it was important to return his good graces with appropriate gifts.
My objects of devotion assembled, I collapsed in my bed, played chill out music, and lit my piple, cradling Artie in hugs and kisses between fits of self-satisfied laughter. The world seemed a brighter, more brilliant place in spite of its deepening shadows.
I waited until it was pitch black out, sometime around 9 or 10, and then I went about the task of summoning my Lord to appear and to offer him my thanks.
Now that the pact between us had been signed, there was no need for the elaborate ceremonialism. I set Frimost’s contract before the skrying mirror, lit the candles, the incense, and wielded the evocation wand, speaking the barbarous words and requesting that my lord should appear before me.
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The flame of the candle began to waiver once again in an intense breeze, and behind me again I felt the presence of a tall and imposing figure.
“Hail Lord Frimost! I receive thee in peace and friendship!”
Frimost said nothing.
I held out the stone that I had gathered on the day that I summoned him in my palm.
“My Lord, for your faith and good works, I would offer you back the stone that you requested I gather when I began to see the signs of your miracles.”
A chilled breath grazed the tips of my outstretch fingers and I coiled them around the surface of the stone.
“Keep it. When you know that I have been faithful, and that your whims have been satisfied, cast the stone into an abyss, so that I will know that my service has been appreciated.” Frimost instructed.
“My Lord, if I might ask more of you…”
Frimost’s gaze in the mirror did not waiver from me.
“The book with which I conjured you said that you are adept in teaching the sciences and the magickal arts… is this so?”
“Yes.” He said. “What would you know?”
“Um, if it is no trouble or offense, then speak to me of your own nature!”
Frimost rasped a deep sigh. “I am the bold breeze that rustles the leaves on autumn nights. I am the proud Lord of Desire, and before my will passions spring. I am a million secrets shared across a million hallowed nights.”
“Will you tell me a secret, O Lord?” I asked without really thinking, “Something only you would know?”
I felt a presence kneel beside me and whisper in my ear.
“In those dark woods which surround you…”