Aim

Aim: the Arsonist

“Aim (also Aym or Haborym) is a Great Duke of Hell, very strong, and rules over twenty-six legions of demons. He sets cities, castles and great places on fire, makes men witty in all ways, and gives true answers concerning private matters. He is depicted as a man (handsome to some sources), but with three heads, one of a serpent, the second of a man, and the third of a cat to most authors, although some say of a calf, riding a viper, and carrying in his hand a lit firebrand with which he sets the requested things on fire.”

Source: Wikipedia

Aim and the Tarot: A Pathworking with the 5 of Cups

In crafting the Occult Tarot deck, I initially paired Aim, the 23rd demon of the Ars Goetia, with the High Priestess—her veil of higher wisdom mirrors his gifts of intellect and secret-revealing. Yet, to honor this deck’s shadowed spirit, I’ve reassigned him the 5 of Cups, a card of loss and obscured potential that resonates with his fiery duality. My practice here is to draw one Oracle card daily for guidance, hoping to stir a response from a demon revered within our coven—Black Witch Coven—and Aim’s torch now beckons.

The 5 of Cups: Symbolism and Meaning

The Cups suit flows with water’s tide—emotions, relationships, the heart’s turbulent depths. It speaks to those gripped by feeling over reason, where love, hate, hope, or despair steer the soul. The 5 of Cups, a Minor Arcana card, upright whispers regret, failure, pessimism—shadows of what’s lost. Reversed, it shifts to self-forgiveness, a slow crawl from setbacks. I call it the “Loss Card,” a stark mirror of caution amid emotional wreckage.

Picture it: a cloaked figure gazes at three spilled cups—his regrets pooling like blood—while two stand upright behind, unnoticed chances glinting in the gloom. A bridge arches over a rushing river, leading to a distant castle—home, stability—if only he’d turn from his fixation. This is the archetype of the Cups: visceral, gut-driven, wrestling to wrest logic from emotion’s chokehold. Here, the card demands a choice—dwell in ruin or seize the unseen.

The Demon: Aim

Aim reigns as a Great Duke of Hell, commanding 26 legions—mid-tier yet mighty among the 72 spirits bound by King Solomon in his brass vessel. A fallen Cherub, he’s listed in the Ars Goetia, Pseudomonarchia Daemonum, and Dictionnaire Infernal, his origins likely Abrahamic, though no Graeco-Roman or early Middle Eastern tales claim him. His obscurity sharpens his enigma—born of Jewish lore, perhaps, but veiled beyond that.

His form is a grotesque marvel: a handsome man with three heads—serpent (cunning’s hiss), man with two stars on his brow (celestial insight turned infernal), and calf (corrupted innocence, per Ars Goetia; a cat’s stealth in Weyer). Astride a viper, he grips a firebrand, torching cities, castles, great places—a duke of ruin. No human guise softens him; he’s monstrous, unyielding, his beauty a lure to chaos.

Significant Symbol: Fire

The Dictionnaire Infernal crowns Aim a fire demon—war, destruction, reckless energy incarnate. Fire in magic is a blade: it consumes, purifies, empowers. For a conjuror, Aim’s flame offers a fierce edge—burning obstacles or rivals to ash—though its wildness courts danger.

Nature: Uncharted Intent

No text brands Aim benevolent, malevolent, or neutral—his silence on this is a warning. His wit, truth, and fire suggest utility, not allegiance. Novices beware: his torch respects no weak hand. Seasoned summoners alone should dare his call.

Aim’s Powers

Destruction by Fire: He razes strongholds—literal or symbolic—clearing paths with inferno’s breath.
Wit in All Ways: Sharpens intellect—debate, strategy, dark jest—making you a blade among dullards.
Private Truths: Unveils hidden matters—secrets of foes, lovers, self—with starry-eyed precision.

Unlike Zepar’s love-binding or Asmodeus’s lustful sprawl, Aim’s gifts are cerebral and chaotic—a torchbearer for those bold enough to wield ruin and reason.

The Connection: Aim and the 5 of Cups

Why the 5 of Cups? Aim’s fire mirrors the card’s spilled cups—loss ignited, regret ablaze—yet his wit and truth echo the upright pair, the potential ignored. The High Priestess fit his intellect, but the 5 of Cups captures his duality: destruction (the fallen) and enlightenment (the standing). He’s the bridge un crossed—burning what holds you back, revealing what lies ahead, if you dare look.

The Message

“Am I fixating on the wrong flames? Can I master my emotional inferno?”
Aim answers through the 5 of Cups’ lens: yes, you’re staring at spilled ash—past wounds, fleeting passions—while his torch lights a sharper path. His wit can steady you, turning gut’s roar into mind’s edge. His fire can raze emotional chains, but only if you wield it—else it consumes you.

In pathworking, I’d summon Aim for his knowledge—demonology’s riddles unravel under his stare. Post-tarot, I’d ask: “Aim, burn my doubts, sharpen my choices—guide me with reason’s flame.” Within a week or two, a crossroads looms—his response, a nudge to the rational call. For a client like Ekta (fights with her husband), I’d bid Aim torch her anger’s roots, unveiling truths to heal.

Summoning Aim (Briefly)

When: Noon, Day Demon—solar peak.
How: Red candle, myrrh, sigil, iron. Chant: “Aim, Duke of flame and wit, rise and serve.” Offer sulfur, bury it post-rite.
Caution: Bind him tight—his firebrand spares no fool.