Chaos Dreams Part 3 Fruition

By Candy Ray

This is a compilation of three chaos magic stories. The first one ‘Eoss and Bidskimmer’ was part of an ambitious servitor project, which was carried out by chaos magicians in an online group. It was the first piece Candy Ray wrote as a chaos magic writer. It is about a servitor and an egregore who make life much better for a group of young people.

The second one ‘Arcana’ is a hypersigil, a chaos magic spell, and it is the story of a lady chaos magician and game designer, her cute servitor,tarot cards, an angel and a demon.

The third one ‘Beads Falling, Falling Into A Design’ was channelled from the chaos muse Ino who originated in the chaos magick group DKMU. Therefore, Ino is the author of the story, and the main character is based partly on herself. This story is narrated by a spirit from the mineral kingdom who finds herself within a bead in a ladies’ necklace, and through this becomes closely involved with a human family.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Frond
• Release date: Oct 29, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370960675

Candy Ray

When I was a child I always thought I would become a fiction writer because I wrote so many stories in exercise books. What in fact happened was that for a while I wrote a lot of poems and songs, and then nothing at all for twenty-four years.My consuming interest has always been the occult and psychic subjects, and in 2014 I joined A.E.O.N. a chaos magic group on Facebook. It was described as: "A Unique Art-Magic Collective made up of Highly Creative Individual Rebel Artists: Writers, Graphic Designers, Crafters, Pranksters & Performers. Art Transcends All Reason!"For the sole purpose of contributing to this group, I started to write short stories and novellas. I teamed up with a chaos muse, a non-human entity, and channelled material from her so that we each wrote some of the pieces. Then I began to self-publish the resulting books .The more I learn about the professional writing world the more I am discovering that I don’t have anything in common with them. Therefore, I have now made all my books free on this site.I live on the south coast of England with my small family. The A.E.O.N. art group has faded from prominence now and has been succeeded by newer ones, but still:- Art Transcends All Reason!Other LocationsMy Smashwords interview can now be found on this page https://www.smashwords.com/interview/FrondThe short story collection Chaos Fables is now on this page: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1370828I also write under the pen name Lena Chere. The books under this name are the Eoss Trilogy and they are available both as digital books and paperbacks.Volume 1: See this page. https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/890472Volumes 2 and 3. See this page: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/lenachere5These two are published by me and are free.

Book preview

Chaos Dreams Part 3- Fruition

By Candy Ray

Copyright © 2017 Candy Ray

All rights reserved

Smashwords Editions 2017 and 2019

Self-published by Frond

Cover design by Justin Kingsley Pitonak

Table Of Contents

Introduction

Eoss and Bidskimmer

Arcana

Beads Falling, Falling Into A Design

About The Author

Other Books by Candy Ray

Introduction

These chaos magick stories have been available as free PDFs for some time, and I have compiled them into this book which is also free.

The first story ‘Eoss and Bidskimmer’ was part of an ambitious servitor project, which was carried out by chaos magicians in an online group. It was the first piece I wrote as an author.

The second one ‘Arcana’ is a hypersigil, a chaos magick spell.

The third one ‘Beads Falling, Falling Into A Design’ was channelled from the chaos muse Ino who originated in the chaos magick group DKMU. Therefore, Ino is the author of the story, and the main character is based partly on herself.

Eoss And Bidskimmer

Prologue

Engaging Ted

Pete’s Trip

The Filly Impresses

Madam M

Into The Stars

Goddess Eoss- channelled from Ino

Prologue

Somewhere in the unseen world that presses around us, a fellow chaos mage created Bobby’s Art Gallery where every painting is a servitor and Bobby’s daughter is the egregore Eoss. I entered his realm and we dreamed it differently, but it is as real as the oppressive concrete world of materialism and sharp rocks. The paintings strung our vision together and from between the picture frames the creatures emerged, eager to find a foothold in our rugged thoroughfares.

The room in the Gallery that houses the servitor pictures is kept locked, and who knows what is mixed in with the rich oil paints or what kind of writing has been flourished on the corners, in old fashioned inks imbued with flavouring spices? Even the material that frames the canvases has been carefully chosen.

1. Engaging Ted

Ted’s room was untidy, littered with folders and unopened packets of pens, empty take-away food boxes, and his all-important magical notes in a pile that leaned dangerously and threatened to fall off his windowsill. He tried hard to concentrate on daily mental exercises and to organize his notes, but often something didn’t gel.

Ted’s main teacher was his girlfriend Lucy, perhaps not an ideal situation for keeping his mind on the lessons in chaos magick. Still, she was quite brilliant at explaining entity creation: Ted followed her instructions to the letter, and it appeared to be a success.

***

The new servitor Bidskimmer eased himself through the wall and ventilation pipe into the businessman’s office. He was here on behalf of Ted, who wanted sponsorship to turn his little magazine into a book.

Trev, the owner of the office, had been Ted’s friend when they were at school and owed him a few favours, but in the intervening years they had lost touch. It was easy for the servitor to find him, but not so easy for him to understand the environment of the office. There was stale cigarette smoke hanging in the air; that didn’t touch him, it might as well have been on a cinema screen. Emotions were what he understood. Trev’s mind was a morass, the surface broken by a vaguely uncomfortable Why am I here? feeling.

Bidskimmer stood by Trevor and began to repeat Ted, Ted, Ted. Not remember Ted, although that was what it would mean to someone like Trev who had been conditioned and socialized in human society since his birth.

Trev shifted uneasily in his plush chair. Now there was emotion- a bolt of it, which knocked against Bidskimmer as he hovered there. Apparently, Trev had always sorrowed over the belief that he wasn’t as good as Ted. It dug into him when they were together- little needles pricking his brain again and again. The suffering this caused had played a part in them losing touch.

Bidskimmer examined the data to see if it was helpful, and decided not. He knew Trev’s belief made no sense, because here he was at the top of his profession, while Ted was struggling and hoping someone would help him. He projected this idea, that it was nonsense, pointedly towards Trev. Trev rejected it. The servitor was puzzled, for he was too new to have learned much of human affairs.

There was no-one else as suitable as Trev, who was now getting back to work and becoming immersed in the business statistics he was analysing. Bidskimmer decided that he would have to persist- persuade him to contact Ted and then he would discover the truth. The truth being that he had succeeded because he was driven: a nasty kind of slow torture in the affairs of human beings that produces a jangled mix of prosperity and inner pain.

Just as Bidskimmer was turning away to await a time when Trev was less busy, more unguarded, his eye fell on a painting above Trev’s desk. It was mainly circles and vortices. Some painter must have anticipated his need. He popped straight into the largest circle, and from there planned his campaign. It would entail much tedious listening to telephone conversations with Trev’s business contacts, his mistress and his wife. But Trev was squarely in the frame where he belonged, in front of Bidskimmer at all times.

A few weeks later Trev was typing an E- mail to his friend Max. Some days my life seems perfect. That was my dream, to have it all. Then other days I feel different, as if I’ve screwed up. I can’t even stick to Jenny. I tell myself she wouldn’t mind about Megan, but really, I know she would. I find myself thinking about Ted a lot. I feel I owe the world for my screw-ups. Hell, I owe Ted. Wonder where he is now?

The office was uncomfortably quiet at four in the afternoon. Trev’s secretary brought tea and coffee, but that didn’t lift the pall of patched darkness that had nothing to do with night falling early in winter. The blinds sheered across his vision, like a curtain of vibrating speckled grey. Trev flicked his computer to sport for two minutes, then to the news headlines for one minute, and then back to his work screens.

To him the computer was purely functional. He would never have suspected the bots and other programs could have a social life, or that Bidskimmer was participating in what for a human would equate to finding a local club that turns his leisure time right around and sends his self-esteem and contentment up several notches. He never knew how it happened that he got onto the page for Ted’s magazine, with its gripping content and full contact details. All he knew was that it was suddenly a good day as he typed Ted! Let’s talk.

2. Pete’s Trip

Pete was lost somewhere on the subway. He couldn’t remember where he got on or what he was doing beforehand. He simply found himself there, slumped in a corner seat with his eyes vaguely registering the dark lines of the tunnel flashing by.

Suddenly the train emerged into the open air. The skyline looked unfamiliar, and for a moment he was terrified in case he was on an alien planet. There had been someone with him yesterday who was going to fix all the deals for him and get him everything he wanted. The memory was fuzzy; had he been an alien?

Now the train was pulling into a station. A small group of passengers stood waiting, clustered at one end of the platform. They were obscured by a cloud of cigarette smoke which made them look indistinct, as if they didn’t belong to this world. Pete looked at them uncritically, and then thought again about the being from yesterday. He’d seen it before, in a painting somewhere. It was wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase. He felt a jolt- could it be Mephistopheles? That’s how he was usually depicted, on the stage and in films.

Pete looked furtively over his shoulder, a little ashamed of his wish to swing all those deals. He wasn’t even working in a high-flying profession with wildly fluctuating profits or stocks and shares. He worked…. where did he work? Now he felt a tinge of panic. Was this a coma, or an alien abduction as he had thought before? Or could it be the dope? His determination to experiment with drugs was matched by an equal amount of caution and trepidation. He must have overcome the caution some time yesterday, before he got on this train.

The train was in the act of pulling into another station. Pete strained his eyes to see