Hazug and three other generals stood in the large farm living room.
There was a fourth man-like demon but he stood apart from his fellows who gave him a wide berth.
He was a tall South American native, just like General Skog.
The Renegade had smart, hazel eyes dedicated to scrutinizing the two humans. He wore his hair in a thick braid and when he threw the silky-looking hairdo over his shoulder to his back Bjorg felt a memory hiding somewhere.
That image was in several ancient spellbooks. Bjorg remembered it was an early call for power that Ella Knaast himself banned from the cult services and the family Grimoire. In one of them, the priest saw the colorful, iridescent tattoo of a moon over silver waters that the general had on his left pec. The details scaped the Knaast yet.
"I am honored to meet you, general," Bjorg greeted, putting his closed fist on his heart and bowing deeply.
Victor tried to bow, but he did not know what to do with his hands, so joined them in front of his chest. "Can I offer you something to drink?"
The Renegades exploded in peals of laughter, and Darah gurgled, "There is always the possibility, Victor Falcone."
At that, Skog's growling laughter overpowered the others' and Ular hissed, making the thick gold chains crisscrossing his torso sparkle.
"My friend here loves his drinking," he commented, joining the joke.
"Doesn't he always," Orn screeched, making more raucous laughter explode again.
Ular smiled, showing long, thin curved canines, and continued.
"He will not drink though. It is my night, Darah."
"He offered," the one called Darah lifted a crooked eyebrow.
"Yes, but he doesn't mean you can drink his blood."
Victor who was still bowing lifted frightened eyes, and Hazug snorted.
"I knew that all of us coming together would be for fun instead of purpose. Victor will collapse of fear."
"No, I won't," Victor blurted out.
"I am General Ular. You can relax, Victor Falcone. "
The generals' leader turned to Hazug, spreading his wide rainbow-colored wings. His only garment was a loincloth of black scales and again Bjorg felt the forbidden book scratching his memory to offer the knowledge that scaped him. Ular's voice interrupted the priest's musing.
"Hazug has a point. You had your fun, and it is my turn now."
Victor cleared his throat.
"I don't mean to interrupt, but will you need Sylvia? Because she is not well for visitation."
Ular nodded and smiled at the Brazilian. "I am here to solve this issue too. Can you testify on her behalf that she wants to have us?"
Victor laughed. "That one wants anything you can offer. She begged general Hazug for this."
Ular's eyes became reptilian for a second, and Victor gulped, adding. "But she is half crazy and won't be much of a partner."
"Do you accept me, Victor Falcone?"
Victor stood straight. Bjorg marveled at the young man. He was all business.
"General Hazug advised me that together you can help me to be Brazil's President."
The others laughed again, and Ular hissed, stopping them.
"They laugh because one of us would be more than enough for your little ambition."
Victor blinked, and Ular smiled. "We are ready to help you. I promise I will heal your wife's mind as a bonus. You won't drag a mad woman around."
Victor grinned, relieved and unaffected by the terrifying creature. "Thank you very much, General. That was my only concern."
Bjorg's eyes became wide. Mind control, healing craziness, that was the spell about.
Enraged, the priest remembered the old book's pages. The serpent cult involved raping women with living snakes to collect the womb's blood mixed with poison to heal the madness. It was so gruesome Ella Knaast decided even she wouldn't have the family involved with that specific demon. She called him the rainbow-winged snake and never wrote his name.
"You won't do that to my daughter! She is a Knaast! She is not fodder!" Bjorg Knaast shouted.
Ular's hissing voice penetrated and slithered horror when he replied. "I am here to use your daughter's body but I will heal her mind."
"No! I forbid!"
Silence fell.
Ular lifted an eyebrow and tilted his head.
"You made them bold, Hazug."
"This one thinks too much of himself," Orn shook his head.
"Maybe he is stupid because he gave Ular an order.," Skog announced, clucking his tongue.
Hazug saw Ular's forked tongue tremble and declared.
"No, he is not stupid. He doesn't know who you are, Ular. People know your Christian name better."
"Ah, but you might be right, old friend. Should I introduce myself?"
This time no laughter responded to the rhetorical question.
Ular turned reptilian yellow eyes from Bjorg to Hazug. "What do you think?"
Hazug studied the man's flushed face, closed fists, and wild eyes.
"I remind you he is the best administrator the family had in centuries and we will need him."
Skog growled. "No bag of dirt can talk like that to our leader and go unpunished. He has to pay."
The snake general looked at his fellow generals, smiling. They looked ready to teach the priest themselves.
"I will go easy, Hazug. After all, it was my fault," he assured, turning his eyes to the Knaast.
"You studied the forbidden books, I see. However, they do not name me because it was another time, another culture. I am bound to be clear when interacting with humans, but you are a Knaast priest who knows a lot about us. I am sorry, Bjorg Knaast. I will rectify my mistake, and show you who I am."
Bjorg's legs failed him, and hitting the tiles he convulsed.
Skog's gigantic paw hit the man, propelling him towards Ular.
"Learn and adore him, you filth."
At Ular's feet, Bjorg's feet thumped the floor to the ancient beating of terror hidden in dark caves and rotting graves. Screams and indescribable pain cut him inside as he watched and felt millennia of humans' horrifying deaths unfold in front of his eyes. Terror as he had never felt wrapped black talons around his tainted soul as flaming hell enveloped him. When his mind was about to fracture, the gargantuan voice of the fallen cherub sounded.
"I am Lucifer."