Vician sat quietly for a while. A bit later he got up and paced silently back
and forth across the attic. At last he
turned to Seraphine. “I need to think
for a while,” he said at last. “I’ll be
back tomorrow.” With that he slipped
down the ladder locking the door behind him.
Seraphine felt crushed. She sat for a while after he left dealing
with the conflicting emotions playing out in her mind. Finally, she decided she couldn’t take it
anymore. Slowly and deliberately, she
changed her shape, all visible traces of her demonic nature gradually melting
into her form until she resembled a human.
Snatching up a few of the potions she had made during the times she had
practiced magic with Vician and putting them in a small pouch she tied to her
belt, she then cast her newly learned spell on the trap door. On a whim she gathered up the meal that
Vician brought her as well as much of the leftovers from the day before. She also tucked some bread, cheese, and fruit
into another pouch.
She was immediately rewarded with a rapid
series of thuds as the latches and heavy bars slid open. Carefully she tested the door, and almost
squealed with glee as the door came open.
Carefully, she climbed down the ladder, pausing only long enough to pull
the trap door shut and lock it behind her.
The main floor of the warehouse was huge,
consisting of a single room with multiple pillars supporting the attic. The ceiling was easily ten or twelve feet
high and heavy, crates coated with dust were piled in heaps scattered
throughout the room.
Seraphine didn’t stop to see if anything
was in any of the crates, but instead looked for a doorway. She found one after only a couple of minutes
of searching and was elated to find it opened out onto the street.
Seraphine was completely unprepared for
what awaited her. The first thing that
hit her was the noise. Everywhere, there
were people talking, shouting, laughing or just walking. Horses clattered by with mounted riders or
pulling carts or even the occasional carriage.
In various directions she heard the sounds of stone hitting wood, wood
hitting stone, stone hitting metal, metal hitting wood. In the distance bells lazily tolled the hour
or called people to worship one of the plethora of deities. Immediately she realized Vician must have
surrounded the building with a spell to keep out all the noise because there
was no way simple wood walls could have.
The next thing that hit her was the
sun. Never before had she ever seen true
sunlight except through the cracks in the attic window. Even that did not prepare her for the
brightness and warmth of the early evening sun, even with all the haze from the
dust and smoke of the busy city. The
warmth and brightness of even this much sun both awed and intimidated her.
After the sun she noticed the smells.
Smoke, dust, dirt, sweat, feces, and urine were all things she was familiar
with. Some smells she even recognized
from the spell components she had, though some of these were nothing like the
potency she smelled now. But she was
almost overwhelmed by all the smells she did not recognize.
As she gained her bearings, Seraphine
realized she was on a street filled with mostly warehouses with what she
guessed were the occasional shop or tavern thrown in. Picking a direction at random, she started
walking.
As she walked and looked around in wonder
at all the sites and sounds of the city, she became aware that many people were
stopping and staring at her. Mostly,
they were men, but a good number were from women too. Seraphine didn’t need her succubus instincts
to alert her that mostly they were looks of lust, though occasionally some were
pure malice or envy, but they helped confirm it.
Aware that she was attracting too much
attention, she stopped and spotted a woman that was mostly ignoring her as she
swept the steps of one of the buildings, singing softly to herself as she
worked.
Seraphine drew on her succubus abilities
to be able to understand the woman and quietly approach her.
“Pardon me, do you know where I could trade
for a travel cloak?” Serpahine asked.
The woman looked up brushing her hair
back from her ear, which Seraphine immediately noticed was pointed. An elf, Seraphine guessed while the woman
shrugged and pointed up a side street.
“Hmm. Most of the shops are closed, but most would want coin
anyways. Still, if you follow that
street a couple miles till you see the statue, turn left and you’ll find the
market,” she said in a crisp accent.
“It’s getting late, but it might be that you’ll find a merchant or trade
caravan still open for trade.”
Seraphine thanked the woman and hurried
up that street. When she came to a giant
statue of a man lifting one hand to the sky in the center of an intersection
she turned left and within a couple of blocks found the market.
The market was eventually one big square
paved in cobblestones. On one side the
merchants guild proudly sprawled the entire length, save for a space cut out
for a street to run through. On the
opposite side a number of large warehouses stood. By the time she got there, many of the
permanent stalls and booths were closed.
A number of merchants were in various stages of closing up carts and
preparing them to leave the market. A
very few customers were in the market trying to make last minute deals.
Seraphine spotted one smaller cart
seemingly running behind in the process of packing up. A small table stood beside the cart with
various clothing items spread out to show them off, while a woman and a child
carefully folded the items up and placed them into a cart. Seraphine noticed the clothing the woman and
child wore was very worn and the seams ragged while relatively simple clothing
laid out looked to be in near pristine shape.
She walked over and picked up a
cloak. It was reversible with a red
velvety material on one side and a dark course material on the other. The garment was very simple, with little
decoration and only a simple braided cord tied off the hood but Seraphine could
tell it was well made. She held it in
her hands as the merchant turned to face her.
“Business is slow?” Seraphine guessed,
using the common tongue she had been hearing most on the streets.
“Aye,” the woman replied with a
sigh. “Been slow ever since Dustin
died. He had a way about him that he
could sell a twig to a lord and make the lord believe it were a walking
stick. Me, I’m just lucky if they notice
me.”
The woman gestured down toward the
cloak. “Be ten silver for that.”
Seraphine sat the cloak down and pulled
out two potions of resistance. “I could
trade you these potions for them.”
The woman snorted, and looked toward the
girl. “Potions are all well and good,
but they don’t put food on the table.”
Seraphine pulled out the pouch with her
dinner and sat it down on the table.
“What if I give you this as well?”
When the woman’s looked at the amount of
food in the pouch her eyes went round.
“You are sure about this? That’s almost a weeks worth of food there.”
Seraphine blinked and looked between the
woman and the child unable to fathom how so little food could last them a
week. It was only a little more than she
would eat in a couple of meals.
“I’ll give you the cloak for the
food. You can pick out a blouse as
well,” the merchant replied.
The succubus shook her head. “I just want the cloak. You can keep the potions as well. I have little use for them.” She picked up the cloak, flung it across her
shoulders, and adjusted it slightly so it didn’t trip her as she walked away
from the merchant staring after her.
Seraphine was almost to the far side of
the market when a deep unease fell over her.
Turning around, she saw another cloaked figure, this one cloaked in
white and gold approaching the merchant she just left. Biting her lip she
hurried out of the marketplace. When she
reached the statue she kept going straight.
Eventually she came across a small area
with some trees and benches where some people seemed to gather. Spotting an empty bench she sat down.
As she watched the people around her, she
pulled out the remaining pouch of food and broke off a small piece off the hunk
of cheese. She tore open the bread and
placed the cheese on the bread. She was
just reaching for her belt and realizing she forgot her flask when the sense of
unease hit her again.
Before she could react, someone was
sitting beside her offering her a flask.
“Here, you look thirsty. Don’t
worry, it’s just wine.” The voice was
familiar but Seraphine couldn’t quite place it.
Seraphine took the flask and looked at the speaker. Beside her, sat the cloaked figure she saw
from the marketplace. “Why would I be
worried?” She asked, trying to keep the unease out of her voice and wincing at
the faint waiver she could tell the other sensed.
“Because we both know you don’t belong
here, demoness,” the voice answered. The
statement was so soft as to not be overheard, but both firm with hints of
warning and suspicion thrown in for good measure. “Why are you here Seraphine?”
Even before he pushed back the hood of
his cloak to reveal his head, Seraphine realized who he was, “You’re Vician’s
father.”
“And you are Seraphine,” the priest
retorted. “Even without your wings, I
recognized you instantly. Now, why are
you here?”
Seraphine sighed. “I was lonely. I thought maybe a walk would help. Besides, this is the first chance to see a
human city.”
“So who is the fool that opened the
portal for you to return here and died so you could be free? Was it Vician?”
“It’s not like that!” Seraphine
protested. As people turned to look at
them she lowered her voice. “I didn’t
kill anyone since I came here. Until
today, I spent all my time shut away in a dark room. I only ever see one person and only for a few
hours a day at that.”
“So why don’t you go home?”
“That is
my home now,” Serpahine glared at the priest.
“But if you mean why it is I don’t return to my home plane, the answer
is I can’t. Even if I could, all that
awaits me is torture and death. You saw
what happened to Melrazia. That is the
fate that awaits me there if Tymora favors me.
More likely it will be worse.”
The succubus took a swig from the wineskin
and waited for his response which she guessed would be quick in coming. Vician’s father did not disappoint her. “What if I sent you elsewhere, to another
plane?” the priest asked.
Seraphine shrugged. “I would still wind up back here eventually. Probably even as soon as tomorrow,” she stated
softly. “I know you don’t trust me. I wouldn’t either in your place. You are what you are and I am what I am. I can’t change that. But if you can’t trust me, please trust in my
desire to stay alive. And staying alive
means not drawing attention to myself.”
“And seducing mortal souls and feeding
from them?” Vician’s father prompted.
“Would draw attention to myself,”
Seraphine shook her head. “I see you
know what kind of demon I am.”
“From what you shared of your story and
hat of your friend, it was not too hard to guess,” The priest nodded. “Just as I can guess from your stating that
you would simply return here if I banished you that must mean either you are
bound here or have someone to summon you.
I would even go so far as to say that person is likely my own son. No need to answer, your silence and
expression tell me everything.”
Seraphine slumped and stared at the
wineskin.
“If you know that, then you know why I
needed to sneak out into the city,” she said softly.
Vician’s father nodded. “It would be fairly obvious if he were to
wind up dead by a succubus.” He paused
and blinked at her reaction. “No wait…
that isn’t it. You could have killed him
and escaped the city with a few days head start before anyone the wiser. Torm take me…” he said both amazed and
horrified. “You’re in love with him.”
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