Succubus Companions pt 3

Seraphine sat on the floor, her legs tucked under her chin. On one side of her lay a pile of books, on the other a pack of clothing, supplies, and more books. She wore high boots, leather pants and vest, and a light shirt. Her belt held many pouches within which were tucked a few coins, a few parcels of food, her own dagger, the dagger Melrazia had given her, a trio of half-charged wands and the few reagents for the few spells she knew.

Though she would not have admitted it, could not have admitted it if she wanted to survive, the streaks down her face were from tears. She had waited hours for the summoning and it did not happen.

Despite her hope in the mage, she had also talked to a couple of the demon sorcerers and mages but none were both willing and able to help her. The most any of them gave her were some expressions of condolences and some half expired wands. Unable to sleep knowing the danger her friend was in, she spent all night and much of the day gathering what supplies she could. Now, he too seemed to have been a dead end.

Fatigue and despair were catching up with her and she closed her eyes. “Forgive me, Melrazia,” she whispered softly. She was starting to drift off when she felt the pulling. She blinked awake only to be dazzled by blinding lights all around her.

When the light faded, the first thing she noticed was that her back was no longer to a wall, though her books and pack were on the floor beside her. Even the floor was different. A few seconds before it had been dark, rough, and filthy stone and now it was bright, polished, so clean she could almost see her own reflection in it.

She looked up to see she was in a room that could fit her entire living quarters with room to spare. Around her was a golden blue hum of a circle of protection.

Seraphine swallowed and looked up. “I was starting to think you weren’t going to summon me,” she said more softly and with far more emotion than she intended.

“I almost didn’t,” a voice answered her. She jumped to her feet and turned to face the speaker. Instead of the young mage she was expecting, she faced a balding man in white and gold robes. Hanging from his neck was a medallion that was glowing a white-blue. A heavy mace hung from his rope belt. A priest, she realized quickly, and a powerful one at that.

“However, my son was most insistent,” the priest continued, “And I will admit as to being curious about why a demon would plea so urgently for another of her ilk. And so after consulting with Torm, I fasted and studied the spells I would need. Thus here we are.”

Seraphine nodded. She glanced at the circle and noticed that unlike the one the mage had used this circle and the glyphs that composed it were divinity based, carved into the stone, and completely flawless. Furthermore she noticed other spells woven into the circle as well. She was unable to recognize them. Even had she any intent of trying to break the circle, to do so was far, far beyond her abilities. Instead, she carefully unbuckled her belt and let it slide to the floor.

Crossing to the far side of the circle she turned and faced the priest. “Will you help me?” she asked.

“That depends,” the priest replied. “I have some questions for you. Whether or not I will help, depends on the answers.”

Seraphine sighed and her shoulders slumped but she regained her composure quickly. “Very well, ask away. Though I beg of you, please make it quick. Every moment we waste heightens the danger my friend is in and lessons the chance she can be rescued.”

The priest nodded once then dove in. “What plane are you from?”

“I do not really know,” Serpahine admitted. “If it has a proper name, I have never heard it spoken that I can remember.”
The priest frowned but continued.

“Seraphine, is that your summon name or your real name?”

“Both,” Seraphine replied.

The priest raised an eyebrow. “You freely give your name?”

Seraphine shrugged. “I don’t have the time or patience to worry about that right now.”

“You truly believe your friend is in danger?”

“I know she is. The prince of our realm has taken her for a prize. He rapes, tortures, and kills the lesser demonesses that capture his fancy. He has been known to drag it out for weeks to the point where in the end his victims even lose hope that they will die. Demonesses have been known to mutilate themselves or even commit suicide just because they think he has an interest in them.”

The priest seemed to ponder this information.

“If we were to rescue your friend, would your friend, this prince, or his minions be a threat to us?”

“I do not believe my friend would unless she is hurt or disoriented, and if she is, I will calm her if I can, or kill her if I cannot.”

“You would kill your own friend?”

“If that is what it took to keep her free from the prince, I would do so without hesitation. I know…” she paused as the word seemed to burn her mouth and rephrased. “I think and hope she would do the same for me.”

“What about the prince and his minions?”

Serpahine shook her head. “I do not know, but I do not think he would bother to chase her. Can you keep your spells from being traced?”

“Possibly, “The priest looked thoughtful.

“If you are able to keep your spells from being traced, I do not believe he would bother you. I think he would consider that too big a distraction from his wars,” Seraphine said carefully.

“I will look into it,” the priest stated. He looked over the succubus. “What did you offer my son for his help?” the priest asked.

“I, I cannot say,” Serpahine stated glumly, her shoulders drooping. “I gave my word.”

“Even if I make telling me a condition of helping you?”

Seraphine blanched, her hands curling up into frustrated fists that clung to her sides. She faced the priest, desperation making her bold. “The truth spell you have used on me makes it clear that you wish to determine if I am trustworthy. Yet if you force me to break my word, I will have proven myself untrustworthy to you or your son. This is a cruel trap you have set for me, yet if I must be ensnared by it for you to help my friend I will do so. But can it be enough to say what I offered him is both better and safer than what he has already planned and attempted and that unless he attempts to hurt me or my friend I have no intention of harming him in any way. I have no wish to see him come to any harm, by my hand or anyone else’s.” Her voice went up in both volume and octave as she progressed so that by the end she was yelling.

Stunned, the priest listened to her tirade. When it ended, he nodded softly. “Alright. I have two more questions. “What name can be used to summon your friend, and why should we rescue your friend?”

“She is called Melrazia,” Seraphine answered. “You follow Torm correct? You should rescue her because Torm knows both justice and mercy, and Melrazia deserves both. She may be a demoness, but she has struggled with her nature. She is not like most other demons. She is not as cruel—usually—as other demons. She tries to—often tries to—spare others when she can. When she found out she was to be given to the prince, she gave me one of her daggers and bid me to escape beyond the prince’s reach.”

For a long while there was silence as the priest stared at her. At long last he nodded. “Wait here, I will be back.” With that he crossed the room to a door, opened it and stepped out of the room.

After what seemed like an eternity to Serpahine the priest returned. Following him into the room were two others. One was the mage from the day before. The other, however, took Serphine’s breath away in a mixture of fear and awe.

Dressed in white, and almost seven feet tall with white wings and hair, the figure carried a sword that was almost as impressive. Serpahine could not tell if the eyes were glowing or if the eyes were replaced by glowing orbs, but either way she trembled as the figure turned to face her. The expression on the perfectly carved face was both impassive and unreadable, and yet Seraphine could not help feel that the being in front of her was sizing her up and finding her wanting.

“Is this, are you, a solar?” Seraphine asked hesitantly, awed and terrified of the figure in front of her.

“Yes,” the rich androgynous voice seemed to reverberate in the very air.

“Are you here to kill me?” she asked.

“That remains to be seen. I was sent to witness, and to kill if you or your ilk proved to be a threat,” the solar replied. “I will also ensure the demon lord will not be able to trace any spells used here.”

“Good,” Seraphine breathed a sigh of relief. She was terrified of the Solar which could likely kill her and Melrazia without any effort more than a thought. Still, death at the Solar’s hands would be relatively quick and painless and completely without malice which was more than anything that awaited the succubi in their home plane. Even better the Solar seemed prepared to listen.

“Tell us about yourselves and why we should help you,” the priest said.

Serpahine sighed and quickly summarized the lives of Melrazia and herself, including the lives they tried to spare and those they took in weakness. She explained how Melrazia warned her to run and the fate that awaited Melrazia and pleaded for her friend’s life. At the end she pleaded with them to rescue Melrazia and just set her on a deserted island somewhere that could support her.

“She speaks truth,” the Solar said at last.

The priest nodded and then bowed his head in prayer as did the solar.

Moments later the solar spoke. “So be it.” Spreading his hands the solar spoke Melrazia’s name and with a sharp crack a gate unlike any Seraphine had ever seen appeared in the air. Unlike the gates that Seraphine was used to this one glowed white and blue with golden wisps thrown in for good measure. The gate rotated until it was horizontal and hovered about two feet off the floor.

Gently it deposited a bloody and broken whimpering creature on the floor. Horrified, Serpahine realized upon closer examination that the creature was actually Melrazia. One wing had been sheered off completely; the other was a twisted, tattered mess. Bruises and cuts seemed to cover every inch of the succubus. Her arms and legs were broken in multiple places. Her jaw was broken and one eye was glazed over so badly Seraphine wasn’t even sure if Melrazia could even see from it.

Seraphine fell to her knees beside her friend wanting to hold her, comfort her in some way, but knowing that if she were to try she would only make her friends agony worse. “Oh, Melrazia, I am so sorry. I failed you,” she whispered through tears that came so hard she could barely see.

Melrazia reached up and gripped her friend’s arm as tightly as she could with broken fingers. “You didn’t fail me,” she rasped. “He only just started on me,” the demoness shuddered, a move that caused her to cough up blood for several long moments. When at last she stopped, Melrazia eyed her friend. “Do not blame yourself, Seraphine. This is not your fault. He told me of his plans for me. You rescued me from so much worse.”

Melrazia looked up at Seraphine with her good eye. “Thank you,” she rasped with all the feeling she could put into her voice. “At least now I can die free of his touch.”

“Stand aside,” a voice behind Seraphine ordered.

Seraphine looked behind her, startled as she belatedly realized the Solar was now right behind her. It seemed to be staring at Melrazia its face an unreadable cold mask.

Seraphine looked back to Melrazia who seemed to show none of the fear and dread Seraphine now felt. Instead, Melrazia’s look was one that Seraphine could only describe as one of acceptance as she nodded to Seraphine.

“Fiend, you have been broken of flesh, but not yet of spirit or even fully of mind. Will you accept the judgment Torm has passed down on you?”

Melrazia nodded and the solar reached down for her, its hand glowing in holy power.