Disclaimer: Dangers of Summoning a Demon

Attempting to summon demons or spirits is not safe and can cause real harm, including death. 

Risks include:
Psychological: fear, paranoia, hallucinations, or long-term mental health issues.
Physical: burns, cuts, accidents, unsafe rituals, or life-threatening harm.
Spiritual/Belief-Based: feelings of curses, oppression, or possession.
Social/Legal: conflict with family, community, or law.

This content is for informational purposes only and does not condone, promote, or incite violence or human and animal sacrifice.

This is not a joke. Even without belief in the supernatural, these practices can cause severe injury or death. For your safety, do not attempt them. If you feel compelled, seek help from a trusted professional.

Marquis: Decarabia

In the shadowed annals of demonology, where the boundaries between the celestial and infernal blur, few entities embody the enigmatic blend of natural wonder and arcane power quite like Decarabia. Known as the sixty-ninth spirit in the Ars Goetia—the first section of the infamous Lesser Key of Solomon—Decarabia stands as a Great Marquis of Hell, commanding thirty legions of lesser demons. His lore, drawn from Renaissance grimoires and medieval occult traditions, paints him not as a harbinger of destruction, but as a subtle teacher of the earth’s concealed secrets: the virtues of herbs, the mysteries of gems, and the ethereal grace of birds in flight. To summon Decarabia is to invite a symphony of wings and whispers, a reminder that even in the demonic hierarchy, knowledge blooms from the wild and untamed.

Origins in the Goetic Tradition
Decarabia’s tale begins in the turbulent cosmos of Judeo-Christian mythology, where fallen angels cascade from divine grace into abyssal thrones. According to esoteric interpretations, he was once a celestial being—possibly of the Virtue order or the Ophanim, those wheel-like guardians of heaven—before aligning with Lucifer in the primordial rebellion. Cast down to the infernal realms, Decarabia ascended to the rank of Marquis, a title denoting both martial prowess and scholarly dominion in Hell’s stratified court. This dual nature echoes the Pseudomonarchia Daemonum by Johann Weyer (1577), which describes him alternatively as a King and Earl, overseeing vast infernal provinces with a retinue of thirty legions.
The Lesser Key of Solomon, compiled in the mid-17th century from earlier sources, cements Decarabia’s place among the 72 spirits bound by the biblical King Solomon. Here, he is invoked not for curses or conquests, but for revelation: unveiling the “force of herbes and pretious stones” and the subtle arts of avian mimicry. His Hebrew name, Dekaorab or דכאוראב, hints at obscured lights—perhaps a nod to his stellar manifestation, symbolizing hidden enlightenment amid damnation.

Appearance and Manifestation
When first called forth, Decarabia does not roar or rend the veil of reality; he arrives as a luminous star ensconced in a pentacle, a geometric emblem of protection and power in ceremonial magic. This initial form—described in the Goetia as “a star in a pentacle”—evokes the celestial origins he has forsaken, a twinkling harbinger that hovers before the conjurer like a captured comet. Yet, at the exorcist’s command, this astral guise dissolves, reforming into the shape of a man: dignified, perhaps scholarly, with an air of quiet omniscience
Illustrations in grimoires like Aleister Crowley’s Illustrated Goetia (1904) often depict him in humanoid form, robed and contemplative, surrounded by illusory birds that flutter in impossible patterns. In modern occult art, he might appear as a hybrid: a man with starlit eyes or feathered shoulders, bridging the terrestrial and the avian. This shapeshifting fluidity underscores his dominion over transformation, a theme resonant in folklore where demons mirror the summoner’s deepest curiosities—or fears.

Powers and Abilities
Decarabia’s arsenal is one of subtlety and symbiosis with the natural world, far removed from the pyrotechnics of more tempestuous demons. Chief among his gifts is an encyclopedic knowledge of herbs and precious stones: their medicinal properties, alchemical virtues, and hidden talismanic powers. A conjurer might beseech him for remedies to mend a broken body or spirit, or for the lore of emeralds that ward off envy and sapphires that sharpen prophetic sight
Yet it is his mastery over birds that truly sets him apart. Decarabia can conjure similitudes of any avian species—eagles soaring with predatory grace, nightingales trilling nocturnal secrets, or starlings murmuring in synchronized omens. These illusions are no mere phantoms; they “fly before the exorcist, and to tarrie with him, as though they were tame,” drinking and singing with lifelike authenticity. In practice, this power serves as familiar spirits: loyal avian companions that scout distant lands, deliver messages through feather and flight, or symbolize freedom in rituals of personal liberation. For the herbalist or gemcutter, he reveals synergies—pairing raven’s claw with obsidian for shadow work, or dove’s plume with pearl for purity unbound.
In esoteric circles, Decarabia is also tied to elemental attunement, particularly air and earth, with correspondences to the zodiac sign of Pisces (ruling intuition and dissolution) and the planet Venus (governing beauty and hidden desires). Modern practitioners, from chaos magicians to eco-witches, invoke him for dream navigation, where birds become lucid guides, or for “mirror-based revelation,” using reflective surfaces to decode nature’s coded wisdom.

Summoning and Correspondences
To call Decarabia requires precision, as with all Goetic rites: a consecrated circle etched with his sigil—a intricate pentagram laced with avian motifs—and incantations from the Goetia under a waxing moon. Offerings of seeds, polished stones, or feathers honor his domains, while the regency dates (February 23–27) align invocations with seasonal stirrings. Caution tempers enthusiasm; though benevolent in temperament, his legions remind us of the infernal undercurrent—knowledge gained may demand a feather from one’s own wing.
His sigil, a starburst encircled by hooks and curves, serves as a focal point for meditation, often paired with gems like aquamarine for clarity or herbs such as vervain for visionary flight.

Decarabia in Modern Culture and Practice
Beyond dusty tomes, Decarabia flits through contemporary shadows. In video games like the Shin Megami Tensei series, he manifests as a summonable ally, his bird-form a tactical asset in battles of mythic scale. Online communities, such as Reddit’s r/DemonolatryPractices, buzz with personal encounters: practitioners report synchronicities—flocks of unusual birds, sudden herbal insights—signaling his subtle outreach. Recent works, like the 2025 attunement guides from Ars Goetia Demons, frame him as a “masked keeper of elemental knowledge,” ideal for eco-magic or therapeutic shadow work.

Conclusion: Wings of Forbidden Insight
Decarabia endures not as a terror of the night, but as a feathered philosopher of the forbidden. In a world starved for wonder, he offers the alchemist’s elixir: the song of a thousand wings carrying truths etched in leaf and stone. To engage him is to dance on the precipice of paradise lost, where every herb whispers salvation and every gem gleams with infernal light. In the grand tapestry of demonology, Decarabia reminds us that the deepest magics hide in plain sight—among the rustle of leaves and the cry of the wild.