Mahatman Kleer stood with his back against a twisted Hawthorn tree. Above him were the western slopes of The Tor. From where he was situated, it was still possible to notice The Chapel of St Michael that stood atop its summit. However, his head was bowed and his eyes were closed.
He was in turmoil. He had truly become the tool of destruction that the demon lord had stated he would in dream state. He had been powerless to prevent his attack on The White King, Auriel. Fortunately, the attack had gone unchecked, some unknown force catching the brunt of the laser beam he had directed at the unsuspecting Auriel, and sending it crashing into the ground harmlessly. None of The Daonie Sidhe had noticed the attack, they had all been too engrossed in The War Council.
Mahatman Kleer had been left shocked and revulsed at his outburst. Auriel had been exceedingly kind to him. Thoughtful and sympathetic of his races plight, Mahatman Kleer had no reason to hate the kind elf who had accepted him so easily. Thus, he eagerly rejected the desires and demands of the demon lord by day and during waking stateæ, however, night time was another thing.
He would begin to drift off to sleep, hoping for once his visitor would not make an appearance. He would then reach the lower slopes of alpha state, when a familiar paralysis as the brain neurons came activated. He would then be rendered fearful and the demon being would make its appearance.
The night before, the paralysis had been particularly strong in its effect. The demon fuming with his failure. It had demanded he attempt again his assassination of The White King. Mahatman had been compelled to agree. He had never felt such hatred and evil before as at that moment.
The being had stood over him. He had tasted the fetid breath from its lips as it spat out its usual burst of obscenities. Then, just as the evil influence was reaching its peak, a bright light caught the corner of his eye. The demon Korshza had suddenly growled and cursed, turning to stare at the source of the light to its right.
Mahatman Kleer had had to blink his eyes. He had been wide awake, but still couldn't accept that fact. The being had been an angel! Surrounded by white light, complete with gossamer wings. It had stood at least eight feet tall. He still had its gentle yet compelling words in his mind, as it reduced the dread Korshza to a gibbering wreck.
”Begone dark one! Thy role as oppressor be now no more. Leave this poor soul now. It be time of the great cleansing. Go back to whence ye came. Let the love of creation melt thy tears of despite …begone!”
There had been a blinding and searing bolt of white energy, which had sent Mahatman Kleer diving to the floor for cover. After it had cleared, the being stood before him offering him its slim hands in a sign of friendship. Its earlier visage of angel complete with wings and halo had changed. It stood before him as a recognised deity, Ahar, God to his people’s The Kell. It had spoken to him in great lengths about the times of oppression on his home-world; of the need for the experience. It assured him that a race known as The Alkeems were at that moment on that way to rid his peoples of the blight.
Mahatman Kleer had. at one stage, taken to bowing before the being. He had been overpowered with peace and with love for the being that called itself after his people's founder spirit. Ahar had then explained its need for him. It was apologetic when it refused Mahatman Kleer the healing of him, explaining his muteness was essential for his mission.
Mahatman Kleer stood in deep contemplation. He awaited the arrival of his friend Vince Martin, who was the only person who knew of his possession by the Korshza. Ahar had explained that the human would soon be travelling along the pathway on the eastern slopes of The Sidhe Hill. Mahatman Kleer was to await his arrival. Vince Martin would not be alone, with him would be a human female. (Extract taken from 'The Host' written by Matthew James)
