Succubus Companions Ch 3 pt 3

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.”