(A chapter from Abdul Alhazred’s Necronomicon,; translated by Luis G. Abbadie)
Thou shalt procure a brazier fashioned
from black stone or clay, with three legs, sufficiently large to receive the
offerings when it is convenient. On the day of the Sun, and in the hour of
Venus, thou shalt inscribe on its side the Seal of Eibon, on one side, and the Elder
Sign on the other. For the Seal of Eibon with its three arms will concentrate
and disperse, for the benefit of your Operations, while N’tse-Ka’ambl, the Granter
of the Elder Sign, is She who presideth over the Black Flame which thou shalt
summon and manifest. This is the flame that forms the heart of the Pillar of
Fire served by the long-bearded Priests Nasht and Kaman-Thah. This is also the
Fire that burns in the heart of each Star, and projects the colours and shades which
fill the sky with poison for the Great Old Ones, as well as those which
strengthen and release Them.
This is what the great Magician and Necromancer Eibon,
from the forgotten hyperborean realm of Mhu Thulan, testifies, and narrates in his Scriptures, of how on
one occasion Eibon travelled through the southern provinces of Hyperborea, in
the course of his searches for arcane knowledge; and in doing so, he decided to
pay a visit to the Necromancer Vinnijar, of Camorba, from whom he hoped to
obtain certain rare herbs peculiar to the region of Uthnor, which would prove
useful for his sorcerous crafts. Vinnijar abode in a residence secluded from the
city, between two crags on the other side of the forest of Ramooz, and Eibon,
having arrived in Camorba shortly before dusk, set out thereto upon dawn the following
day. Upon his arrival, he found some logs and a bucket abandoned before the
front door, and surmised that he would have the opportunity to see his
colleague reprimand the laziness of his servants. He had not seen Vinnijar for
more than two decades, but well did he recall his great propensity to outbursts
of anger, and his shortness of patience. Presently, Eibon knocked on the door,
and found no one coming to greet him. He knocked harder, and the door swung
open loosely. Surprised, Eibon entered the room, and found two other logs lying
on the floor, in front of the fireplace in which the fire was reduced to nearly-extinguished
embers. As though the servant who fed the fire, he reflected, had fled in so
untimely a manner that he had at first forgotten to drop the wood he had just
brought with him.
“Vinnijar!”, The sorcerer risked calling,
but as he suspected already, he obtained no answer. Therefore, he ventured
inside the dwelling, heading for the stairs. He suspected that the best place
to find Vinnijar would be his laboratory, and it would probably be located on
the upper floors, but otherwise, it might also be found in the basement.
Eibon went upstairs then, careful to make no
noise, as he anticipated that he might encounter something extremely unpleasant,
and possibly dangerous. And indeed, it took not long for him to see traces of
blood and what could only be guts, scattered on some of the steps before
reaching the next floor.
To his left, an open door revealed what he
was looking for: the materials and implements of an alchemist cluttered a
table, with a shelf full of scrolls beyond it. He approached cautiously, and as
he looked in, he saw the edges of a Circle of the Artes laid out on the
flagstones of the floor. When the sight became clearer, as he advanced, he
noticed that in the perimeter of the Circle there were a dead censer, an open
parchment, and more peculiarly, the remains of some already-eaten fruits. As he
passed through the lab door, his gaze met that of wild-eyed Vinnijar.
The Necromancer sat, crouched, in the
center of the Circle, his robe dishevelled, his hair tousled; and his fear and
surprise-fraught eyes were framed by a haggard and pale face. Despite being in
the Circle of the Artes, Vinnijar did not look as if he had been interrupted in
the middle of some experiment at conjuring.
“Vinnijar!” Eibon saith upon seeing him,
and looked around apprehensively. “What has happened here?”
The Necromancer looked around in panic and
gestured to silence him.
“Speak not aloud, O Eibon!” he warned. “You
could be heard!” Then, approaching the edge of the Circle, he muttered
urgently, as if certain that time was short. “It awakens hope in my heart to
see thee, my friend,” he saith; “May Tsathoggua let thy arrival announce my
salvation, and not thy companionship in doom! Know thee that last night, I was
preparing to conjure the Spirits of the Abyss and, after imparting the usual
directions to my servants, I set out to carry out the Operation. Too late, I
realized that young Rahli, the cook's teen-aged son, who despite my
instructions tends to get distracted while I talk to his elders, must have
picked up my Brazier from the ground, perhaps believing that it was not part of
my instruments since my censer was also at its side. There has he put it, out
of my reach!” He pointed to a shelf where, indeed, a Brazier with the Elder
Sign inscribed was to be found. “All the rest was due to my own recklessness,”
the Necromancer lamented; "when I found it not in my Circle, the need to
use it escaped my mind, and the room has been left lacking the complete
purification and warding required for the manifestation, without risk, of the Outer
Forces!” Vinnijar shook his head in desolation. “That which I called, came in
response; unrestrained, it attempted in vain to invade the perimeter of the
Circle, and failing to do so, it left to prowl the house. I have heard the
screams of horror from the servants, until silence fell. Then it came again,
and it has spent the whole night tormenting me, mocking me, with the certainty
that sooner or later, fatigue will prevent me from reinforcing the protective
barriers, and it will be able to reach me.”
“In that case, ‘twill surely be well within
my hands to succor thee,” Said Eibon in order to appease his anguish, otherwise
he would not be able to answer certain questions that were of the essence. “But
tell me, oh Vinnijar, what is That which thou hast invoked, and which now
prowls in this house?”
At that moment they both heard footsteps of
a peculiar rhythm coming down the corridor. Eibon glanced over his shoulder,
but nothing showed still through the open door.
“Vinnijar! Quickly! What is it?”
“A Shadow from Arkand,” he said, causing
Eibon to shudder, as the horror on his colleague's face told him that It had
already come.
But what was found at the door was not a
Demon of bestial form, nor a living shadow, but a woman, elderly and robust, her
clothes soiled with blood. But her face, her eyes! They betrayed an aberrant
Presence within what was clearly a corpse, since her open throat showed the marks
of a large, bestial claw. Her eyes blazed with a demonic yellow gaze, and a
grinning grimace distorted what must once have been a gentle face brimming with
the shallow wisdom of the elderly country dwellers. And in her left hand she
carried a long, thick stick, plucked from some shed.
“’Tis time to devour thy soul, Sorcerer,”
said she, and then, looking at Eibon, she added: “How kind of thee to bring new
food for my brethren!”
Eibon, who well knew, from the Pnakotic
scriptures, what the Shadows of Arkand were, which are in the habit of seizing
corpses and turning them into abominable Necrites or Deadites, those selfsame
horrors which had ravaged Arkand at the latter days of a previous Cycle, replied
nothing; he merely stepped back, without averting his gaze from that aberration,
to stand behind the table cluttered with retorts and urns. The grinning Deadite
watched him, finally turning her attention to the Necromancer who crouched within
the Circle.
“But ‘tis time, first, to pay thy debt,”
said the thing, and raised the stick as if it were a spear, ready to impale
Vinnijar.
Eibon moved with swiftness and discretion, reaching across the table to take the Brazier. If it was empty, he would have no time to prepare it, and they would both be lost. But he found it filled with coal. Silently thanking Tsathoggua, he was about to use his tinderbox to ignite it, but he stopped. His gaze fell upon an urn marked with the symbol used by Hyperborean Alchemists to designate oil, and under it, the Seal of Ubbo-Sathla. Eibon grasped it, and poured it until it the coals were half-covered in it. The fire then ignited with great ease, crackling in an unexpectedly thunderous way.
 |
| The Seal of Ubbo-Sathla |
The Deadite looked at him in bewilderment.
But the stick was no longer in her hand. Eibon caught a glimpse of his friend,
the Necromancer Vinnijar, with the stick nailed into his abdomen and writhing
in pain as he backed away from the Circle and leaned his back to the wall. But
then the thick, warm scent of burned Oil invaded his lungs, choking him, causing
his eyes to fill with tears. The Deadite let out a scream more like that of a
vulture or winged dragon in agony than like a human cry. Eibon, unable to see her
with clarity, turned away and approached Vinnijar, who was collapsing to the
ground. Eibon put his hand on the shoulder of the dying Sorcerer as his
still-stinging eyes searched for the Deadite: she crouched with her back to the
brazier, covering her face as if the fumes were those of a mountain’s liquid
fire, unceasingly screaming.
“Eibon…” the Necromancer managed to
articulate, and life left his eyes. Eibon stood up and hurried across the room.
As he passed the wriggling Deadite, she reacted and rose after him. But Eibon
was quick enough to shut the door in the face of the abomination.
“Get thy share,” Eibon said in response to
the shrieks and curses that accompanied the banging on the door. The Flame of
N’tse-Ka’ambl was purifying the interior of the laboratory, turning it into a
space whereat a Being of darkness like the One which animated the Deadite was
not capable of surviving. Still, Eibon held his breath, fearing the thing might
have enough presence of mind to recall the window and jump out; However, it did
not. The banging slowed, the screams reduced to gasps, and finally there was
silence.
Eibon then allowed himself to sigh in
relief, and left. Let the peasants eventually discover the tragic scene, and let
the pious Priests of Yhoundeh exorcise the site, claiming the fate of the
Necromancer as a morality fable against the Sorcerous Arts and a triumph for their
Goddess. ´Twas another, greater and elder, Goddess who had vanquished the
horror this day; and another more mundane and bitter moral which was presented
here: When carrying out thy Rites, never forget the unattended Fire, whether it
be burning... or unignited.
Bear then in mind the experience of Eibon,
that thou dost never forget the importance of the Black Flame upon thy Altar.
The Flame must be lit on coals sprinkled
with Ubbo-Sathla’s Oil, which is prepared in the following way: Boil leaves of
ivy, cypress and walnut in a base of tree oil, and unto the resulting mixture,
once cold, add powdered sulfur and camphor. And when preparing it, make the
Sign of Voor over it and say:
Ubbo-Sathla h’ftahas
In this manner, the source and substance
of earthly life nourishes and feeds the Flame which in turn burns in its
entrails and awakens the substance to life.
On the first occasion of its use, the
Brazier must be duly consecrated with the Greater Consecration, and then the
interior of the brazier anointed in Ubbo-Sathla’s Oil, which will no longer be
necessary on subsequent occasions; then place coals inside, sprinkle them with
oil, and kindle the Fire; while it burns, make the Elder Sign while spealing
the words:
Granter of the Elder Sign
N’tse-Ka’ambl
Mistress of the Flame
N’tse-Ka’ambl
Shatterer of Worlds
N’tse-Ka’ambl
Queen of the Heavens and the Abyss
N’tse-Ka’ambl
Kindle here Thy Flame.
¡C’vo Ch’Isesa Xizo-Ati-Ni-Tho!
Thou who doth grant us protection
Grant me now Thy Black Flame
Thou whose shield nothing may pierce
Shield me in Thy heat
Thou who guardeth the Ancient Knowledge
Kindle in me the Flame of Wisdom
Thou who hath conquered Ganzir
Light my Path in light and in shadow,
Kindle here Thy Flame.
¡C’vo Ch’Isesa Xizo-Ati-Ni-Tho!
Uvhss-J’hon,
Radiant Blackness from Sharhah's entrails
Uvhss-J’hon,
Wall of Fire before the horrors of Yuggoth
Uvhss-J’hon,
Lighthouse of Justice in the Palaces of Glyu-Vho
Uvhss-J’hon,
Eternal Fire from the Sanctuary of N’tse-Ka’ambl
Kindle here Thy Flame.
¡C’vo Ch’Isesa Xizo-Ati-Ni-Tho!
In the Name of She Who conquered Ganzir,
By eris will and Her Word,
Uvhss-J’hon,
Black Flame rare and resplendent,
light up now this Circle of the Artes
May every Shadow boweth to Thy light.
Uvhss-J’hon,
Black Flame of Wonder,
Bless me with Thy protection.
N’tse-Ka’ambl,
Bless me in my Workings,
Kindle here Thy Flame!
¡C’vo Ch’Isesa Xizo-Ati-Ni-Tho!
In thy Rites, thou canst also feed the Fire with branches of willow.
The previous narrative is a previously undisclosed chapter from Alhazred's opus, rendered from an incomplete Greek text and a severely damaged corresponding section in Wormius' latin version. We have recently had an unique opportunity to cross-check the narrative with the corresponding chapter of the Book of Eibon, thanks to the near-complete copy of Gaspar DuNord's XIIIth Century Livre d'Eibon found as part of the Brzobohatý Files curriently under research at Universidad Valencia of Montecruz, Mexico.
It bears mentioning that I have favored professor Raymond Knowby's barbarism "Deadite" over the correct Greek term "Nekrite" mainly due to the former being a more familiar word for most readers.
"The Rite of the Black Flame" has been rendered in careful accordance and cross-check with the works of Joseph S. Pulver, Sr., who was the original translator and researcher who undisclosed the mysteries of the Black Flame or Uvhss-J'hon, after his discovery of the Eibonic scripture "The Adoration of the Black Flame" (to be found in Chaosium's The Book of Eibon).
A long way back, I remember reading an article titled "Wicca 101" at the much-lamented website The Witches' Voice. In it, the author described a neophyte's hypothetical first ritual attempt, narrating how, after tracing the circle, the student might sit before their altar, relax, breathe deep... listen to the sounds of the night... and recall the coffee pot they left on the flame at the stove! Eibon, through Alhazred, suggests that this has been an age-old problem for witches and necromancers!