“Hello, Ahmirhiel,” Thomas said, as he revealed himself. Transforming into a man, from what had only moments before appeared to be one of the reflective surfaces of the paneled mirror wall. The penthouse suite was a lavish affair, complete with gaudy embellishments like gold trim, a marble fire place, an ornate pool table, and just about anything a well-to-do gangster of the era might want. Thomas could have chosen any of a number of objects in the room as a disguise, but he wanted to try something truly unexpected. This is the reason he’d give for choosing the mirror, the very thing that allowed the trap to exist at all, but the truth was he just wanted to see if it would work. Thomas still retained somewhat of a playful side, even through everything he had experienced. Though it might present itself in the form a callous, almost dark, humor at times… he often caste himself as the incarnation of the trickster god Coyote. “Your brothers call out to you, even now. But blame them not, for they cannot help themselves. They have been without voices for so long, that they know only the voice of their thoughts… and they know not how to quiet them, for fear that they might cease to be in the wake of such a silence. Yet, I am grateful, for I have learned so much from them. They remember so many things, its almost as if I’ve lived it myself. It seems like thousands of human lifetimes to me, though I’m sure it would be far less incredible to something like you.”

“You dare speak my name… mortal? Do not be so foolish as to believe it gives you power over me! Moreover, do not try my patience. Be gone from my presence as quickly as you can, before I decide… what shall become of you,” Ahmirhiel said, while gripping the coin he had been rolling over his fingers. He did not want this fight, although he desired more than anything to kill the child of man who had learned his true name. Still he did not know anything about the foe before him now. It was true that his name alone offered a human little advantage over him, but the mere fact that he had knowledge of a name that had not been spoken in probably thousands of years, suggested that this was no layman. What if his foe new how to leverage the power of his name, what if this human had even more dangerous powers than had already been displayed. It would be best if the human paid caution to his bluff, and made way. But it didn’t look like that would be the case.

Thomas stepped forward, in response, and said, “Don’t be  afraid, Ahmirhiel. Soon you’ll be with your brothers, where you may serve at my side.” As he said this, apparition began to emerge and take form. The first manifested at Thomas’s side, and then others began to appear around the room.

“Ridiculous, you think you can bind me to your will…” Ahmirhiel said in disquieted outrage, wavering somewhere between disbelief and uncertainty. “don’t be foolish, you’re barely more than a boy. What could possibly make you believe yourself capable of such a thing! A thing even Solomon, who was given knowledge by my father, and was among the generations of true Nephilim, could not achieve.” What began to boil into desperate anger, tapered into a relieved triumph, as Ahmirhiel convinced himself that such a suggestion was impossible. Without his vessel, which Ahmirhiel himself held firmly in hand, the boy could not so much as seal him away. so long as he did not allow his host body to fall here, so long as he kept the coin out of his opponents hands, his name could do him little real harm… or so he imagined.

“There are three ways this can go down,” Thomas declared. “You could agree to come into my service, of your own will.” This suggestion however, would be met only with Ahmirhiel’s sneers. “You’re brothers can destroy your human host, and I take the coin.” This had clearly been the scenario for which Ahmirhiel had been preparing, as the air around his host had become blisteringly hot, a sign that the Jinn intended to fight. “Or, you could simply… give me the coin, Ahmirhiel.”

Ahmirhiel felt his grip on the coin loosen slightly, but he was not so weak as to yield to such a command. Especially not from a mortal. “You do not yet have the strength to make such demands boy, nor do I believe you ever will. But if you wish to die here, then so be it.”

“So hasty, Ahmirhiel,” Thomas reproached him. “Do you know what this is?” he asked, as he raised his hand, twitching the finger upon which he held his ring. ” This is Solomon’s Wisdom, the Tome that binds so many of your brothers, which you now see here before you. Or did you think it all some trick?” Though the Jinn only responded to this revelation in silence, Thomas could tell he was becoming increasingly concerned. “You can’t truly hope to defeat so many, in that form… can you, Ahmirhiel?”

“Stop… saying… my… name!” Ahmirhiel demanded. It seemed to him, that each time his name was uttered, he could feel the weight of his opponents will increase like the yoke of an oppressive master. Ahmirhiel was growing furious once more, but also feared it to be a labor of desperation.

“Ahmirhiel, give me the coin. It belongs to me, Amirhiel. You belong to me Ahmirhiel.” Thomas said, now standing in front of him, coin in hand. The Jinn had not even noticed that Thomas was suddenly standing in front of him. More importantly, he did not remember when he had given him the coin, when exactly it had come into his possession. But now Ahmirhiel was kneeling before a mortal master, unable to clear his head, unable to act on his own will…. unable to except this unwelcome turn of fate, yet powerless to do anything about it. At least he was with his brothers, the voice insisted.