Less an hour after being returned to her chambers Seraphine was summoned again. She had just enough time to grab the stack of books and her pack before being wisped through the portal that opened. This time she found herself in the attic again.
Immediately she noticed the circle had been redrawn; this time with more care given to the circle. She heard the mage’s voice. “Did you bring the spell?” She nodded and opened one of the books to a particular page and slid it to the edge of the circle and stepped back the far side. Subtly she used her innate ability to detect goodly beings. She was a little disappointed but not very surprised when the nearest good aura was out on the street. Silently, she let the spell drop.
The mage stepped closer and squatted down looking at the spell through the circle. “This spell is for summoning a howler. This is useless to me.”
Seraphine sighed. “It can be modified. Look at the table on the bottom. It shows many of the known variations including one for demons of my rank. It’s actually an easier variation,” she admitted.
The mage looked again, studying the spell carefully. “It is as you say,” he conceded at last. “I have all the components I need,” he sounded surprised. “Are you ready?”
Seraphine tilted her head. “May I at least know the name of the mage I am to serve before I am bound?”
The mage blinked startled and rose to his feet. “I never told you my name?” He paused and thought back. “No, I suppose I didn’t. Well, you can call me Vician,” he answered pronouncing the name Vie-see-ann. “Shall we proceed?”
Seraphine nodded. “Aye.”
Vician walked around the portion of the attic that was his lair gathering up components as well as a blank scroll, a quill pen, a bottle of ink and a small chunk of black onyx. Kneeling on the floor, he first copied the variation of the spell he wanted onto the blank scroll. Next, he carefully laid out the components he needed. At last when Serpahine was beginning to fear the summoning would wear off, Vician began the spell.
It started so small, almost unnoticed as she listened to him chant. Like a little feathers brushing the inside of her skull, little living threads of unseen magic wound both within her brain and from there they followed the very connections between her mind and soul. Then gradually, like a blanket, a piece of him folded over and surrounded her very being.
As the spell ended and he looked up with her with his icy blue eyes locked upon her, she felt him more intimately than she had every felt any of the victims she had fed upon. It was pure emotion and yet something more that overwhelmed her. As the intensity of his satisfaction grew so too did another very familiar emotion; lust. It was not lust for her, however, but rather what he could do using her and a sense of trepidation began to sink icy its tendrils into her heart. Too late, she realized she may have just made a very big mistake.
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