My little demon, making me choose,
making me an offer I can't refuse.
Hard as a rock, dry as a bone,
big or little, know that I will take you home.
--Fleetwood Mac, "My Little Demon"
"Zarn? You in here?" The male voice was clear and insistent, and laced with a certain amount of impatience. "Come on, I know you're here. Wake up!"
"Sorry, what?" The young warlock initiate glanced up from the archaic book in his lap and shook his head, forcing his eyes to focus on something other than sloppily scrawled text for the first time in what must've been hours. "Oh, hey, Drak," said Zarn wearily. "Yes, sorry, I was doing some research. What's up?"
Drak pushed his way into the small cubicle-sized room, past a stack of dusty tomes almost as high as his chest. The pile rocked back and forth shakily, and he managed to stabilize it with a quick slap of his hand. Drakkol Rutere, a youth of about twenty, and a fellow student of the summoning arts, had short black hair and was rather handsome, somehow managing to keep himself well-groomed and clean-shaven despite the nearly complete lack of free time available at the Academy. Zarnath Samol, by contrast, had a two days' growth of brown stubble, and his dingy brown hair hung long about his tired-looking, sunken eyes. He pushed a lock away, glancing up at his friend with a long sigh.
"Still studying, I see." Drak shook his head sadly. Shortening first names to their abbreviations was commonplace among friends, especially in an environment as close-knit as the Academy. "And without an ear for your sentry imp, either."
"I summoned one," protested Zarn. He raised his voice and glanced into the barely visible foyer. "Palqua! Bad imp! You were supposed to warn me if anyone came near!"
"He did warn you," replied Drak with a grin. "He all but cast a fireball through the door, until I got my banish off. Didn't you hear?"
"No, I was reading." Zarn threw back his head and let out a long breath, rubbing his weary eyes. "Studying for the exam tomorrow. Sorry, when I get involved in ancient theories, I can't pull myself away."
His friend nodded and took the book with a quick snap of his wrist. "Theories are fine," he stated, plopping the book on top of the pile, "but you have to focus. Have you thought about your bonded demon yet?"
Zarnath stood and stretched. "Of course I have." He paced a couple of times, tugging at the folds of his grey Initiate's robe, suddenly aware of how numb his legs were from sitting in the same position for so long. "I've been thinking about it a lot. I just can't decide."
"Well, you'd better hurry up. The Ceremony of Recognition is in just a few days. If you don't have a bond by then, you won't make Adept this term, no matter how good your grades are. At least get a grolmon--no one will fault you for that. It's a simple enough demon to dominate."
"Anyone can bind with a grol," complained Zarn. "They're as dumb as rocks. I'd be better off with an imp. Palqua would probably light my robes on fire every chance he got, though. He hates me."
"What do you expect? You summon him out of his comfy fire pits, and make him stand guard, then you don't even listen when he warns you. He's probably going to thank me for banishing him."
"Probably." Zarn stepped to the far side of the tiny room, where a bookshelf leaned against the wall, literally overflowing with arcane texts in various stages of decay and disrepair. He selected one labeled "BINDING WITH DEMONS: A BEGINNER'S GUIDE." Opening the cover, he ran a finger down the table of contents, pointing one after another at his options. "Look, Drak, I've been going over my choices, and I just don't like any of them. Imps, grolmon, nashini, elegorn--none of them seem right for me. I even tried calling a tran'loggoth, which I must say is not a pretty sight."
"Oh?" Drek shuddered slightly. "I remember seeing sketches, but never the real thing. They give me the creeps."
"Me too, but it whispered of all kinds of promises dark power, and you know how that goes. I probably could've jumped straight to Apprentice rank if I bonded with it."
"Assuming you survived the process," his friend pointed out. "So what's the problem, then? You want to wait to gain more power before you bind to a lesser demon? Remember the lecture Dedicate Pozthan gave last week. 'Better to suffer the pain of disbanding later, than suffer the pain of death now.' Or something like that."
"Yeah, I remember, but disbanding isn't the problem." Zarn closed the book with a loud snap, and tossed it haphazardly back on the pile, which rocked tenuously then somehow managed to stabilize. "It's just that I know I could bond with a tran. Don't you see? I know I have the ability. I could pick any demon in that tome if I wanted, and even if the binding failed, I know my circle would hold until I could get my banish off."
"You're that good?" Drak grinned. "Seriously? You're so good you can bind with any demon you wanted?"
"Pretty much." Zarn shrugged. "Look, it's not arrogance or pride. I've looked into those demons' eyes, or whatever they have, and I know I could dominate them. It's just that none of them really seem to fit with what I want. You know what I mean? They just aren't a challenge. I want my binding to be a challenge, Drak. Something to make it worth my while. Anything less would be a millstone about my neck, holding me back."
His fellow student shook his head sadly. "I just don't get you," he sighed. "Just pick one and bind with it already! Then we can get down to the proper business of partying before the ceremony!"
"Sorry, I can't. I just can't. Not until I find the right demon. I'm not going to be one of these warlocks who binds and disbands every few months. Every time you do that, you set yourself back, and there goes all that power you've accumulated. I want to get it right the first time."
Drak threw up his arms in frustration. "Fine. I can see there's only one solution to this." He stepped over to the bookshelf, running a finger down the stacks of texts, pausing a few times to wipe the dust on his drab grey robes. "Ah, here we are." Steadying the pile, he quickly yanked out the tome he'd selected, effortlessly managing to keep the bookshelf from tipping over. "This is what you need, my friend. Summon one of these. That'll get your mind off your troubles for sure. Maybe then you can focus on what's really important."
Zarn took the book, glanced once at the title, and immediately tried to refuse it, only to have Drak dodge nimbly aside, once again showing the kind of dexterity his non-athletic friend had always lacked. "Are you crazy?" Zarn complained worriedly, glancing around as if someone might be watching from the dark corners of his meager chambers. "Do you know what they'd do if they found out?"
"Who's going to know?" replied a grinning Drak. "You said you can summon anything, right? You can make a containment circle better than anyone I know. So call one! You wanted a challenge, didn't you? Well, there you are!"
Zarn set the book back on the shelf. "Not a chance," he replied, dismissing the idea with a wave of his hand. "Now get out of here and let me study, will you? Look, I'll bind with a demon before the ceremony, I promise. I just need some more time to decide, that's all."
"Whatever. Suit yourself." Drak stepped through the door, chuckling as he hurried off towards the dorm exit. His voice echoed through the halls as he retreated. "You know you want toooooo...!"
Zarn slammed the door shut, cutting off the mocking words. Turning, he let his eyes fall on the rejected book, sitting slightly askew on a stack of dozens of other, similar books. The drab, dull cover's words seemed to call out to him, just as Drak's final words had done.
"HOW TO SUMMON A SEDUCTRESS," the title read. And, the much lesser subtitle: "CALLING A SUCCUBUS: TAKING COMMAND OF A MISTRESS OF PAIN AND PLEASURE."
With a snort of derision, Zarn turned away, retrieving the text he'd been studying when Drak interrupted him a few moments ago. Even as he returned to reading, he tried very hard to put the other book out of his mind.
Of course, he couldn't.
He managed to last perhaps fifteen minutes before he realized he wasn't really reading the words in front of him. His mind kept drifting back to the tempting tome Drak shoved in his face before leaving. Finally, with a weary sigh, the young initiate picked it up, opened the cover, and glanced at the introduction:
A succubus appears very much like a normal human woman. In fact, for all intents and purposes, a succubus is a normal woman, at least in every physical way that matters. Succubi do not have bat wings, or pointed teeth, or claws tipped with poison, despite folk tales to the contrary. They are women, plain and simple, save for their demonic origins, carnal desires, and a thirst for power as strong as any warlock's.
Also contrary to popular belief, a succubus cannot change her form through any sort of inherent ability or spell, although most employ long-term magic and other practices to improve their physical appearance. A typical succubus is a beautiful and voluptuous creature, for it is to their advantage to possess as pleasing a shape as possible. After all, these demons acquire physical power through intimate contact with mortals, and can also share or trade their own power in the same way.
Summoning a succubus is a dangerous proposition. A succubus will always seek to drain a warlock of as much of his energy as they can get away with, given the opportunity. A warlock who is not properly prepared can find himself reduced to a powerless husk, although most succubi will normally (unless excessively offended or slighted) leave their summoners just barely enough energy to survive the encounter. After all, they want to encourage weaker warlocks to repeat their attempts, thereby ensuring themselves of repeated "feedings." In this way they have been likened to vampires, although succubi are fully alive, not undead.
When summoning a succubus, the warlock must first ensure his containment circle is strengthened as much as possible. Furthermore, he must be ready with a banishing spell capable of returning the summoned demoness to her home plane quickly. Once summoned, a succubus will typically attempt to seduce the warlock through whatever means possible, employing every feminine wile imaginable prior to accepting a demonic bargain. Once the bargain is struck, she will of course be bound to its terms as any demon would, so be sure the agreement is properly worded. Like most demons, succubi will take advantage of any and all loopholes they can find.
A warlock typically summons a succubus for one reason alone: an exchange of physical power through the medium of sexual intercourse. In this way these creatures have been likened to demonic prostitutes of a sort, and perhaps the allusion is not incorrect. In the same manner as a prostitute, a succubus demands payment for her services, usually in the form of magical energy of one form or another. She will in exchange provide physical energy, which is often difficult to acquire through other means, especially by warlocks that lack the proper social graces. Sometimes, a warlock courting a consort will acquire the services of a succubus solely to learn various sexual techniques, so as to better please (or seduce) his future wife. Similarly, an aging warlock can acquire a reserve of physical energy through the intermediary of a succubus, affording himself increased strength and virility well into middle age and beyond.
Regardless of the reason, care must always be taken when summoning a succubus. They will do or say nearly anything if they think it will give them even the slightest advantage over their caller. They are, as with all demons, inherently evil.
In the chapters to come, you will learn the proper ways to design a containment circle capable of holding a succubus, and the correct terms to use when defining a demonic bargain with one of these wily creatures. Then, we will discuss the many ways a succubus will interact with the warlock, which may seem graphic to some but is most assuredly necessary. To not explain these details would do the potential summoner a great disservice.
Be sure you read the entire text in full before attempting to summon a succubus. If you choose to do so, you may find the experience as enjoyable as it is rewarding. However, like all demonic summonings, it is not without its price.
Zarn had intended to put the book down by this point, but something in the text intrigued him. Summoning a succubus prior to achieving the rank of Adept was strictly forbidden, and even then generally required supervision. Still, he knew plenty of Initiates tried it anyway, for obvious reasons. The Academy was an all-male institution, and for most attendees, a succubus would be the only female flesh they would see until they graduated.
Although he was as interested in that as any of the other initiates, Zarn knew the promise of satisfying his urges wasn't enough to make him want to break the rules. Something else about the idea intrigued him. Maybe it was, as he told his friend, that he needed a challenge, and perhaps it was something more.
Regardless of the reason, he kept on reading well into the night, and by the time he was done with the book, he knew what he had to do.
Zarnath wiped his sweaty brow with the back of his arm for the hundredth time. On hands and knees in one of the Academy's many private summoning chambers, he was putting the finishing touches on a ten-foot-wide containment circle. The mystic symbols, painted in an arcane mixture of ink, rare chemicals, and his own blood, had been painstakingly drawn over the course of nearly an hour, but he was nearly ready.
Nearby, the book stood open, on the page with the proper circle diagrammed out in full detail. Zarn checked the images repeatedly, ensuring everything was correctly transcribed. Not everything was identical, of course; the precise methods vary from warlock to warlock, so he had to insert a few of his own personal sigils. Furthermore, the runes defined what sort of succubus he would be calling, so he modified those to match his ideal of the perfect demoness.
The body of "HOW TO SUMMON A SEDUCTRESS" described several reasons a warlock might want to summon one of these demons, but they all boiled down to one thing: the acquisition of sexual energy, either for magical or personal purposes. Zarn had a completely different reason in mind: he wanted to see if it was possible to bind with a succubus, or if he would even want to do such a thing.
To a warlock, binding was the essential core of one's power. While wizards and sorcerers manipulated powers within themselves, gathering energy from the world around them, a warlock gained energy from his bound demon. The demon was, for all intents and purposes, a magical battery. The more powerful the demon, the more powerful the warlock. However, binding wasn't without a price--each demon demanded something in return. Lesser demons, like imps and grolmon, wanted simple material things like fire and blood, but the stronger ones required portions of a warlock's life essence, or worse. What a succubus might want, Zarn didn't know, but he was sure it would have something to do with sex, and that was the one thing that troubled him most.
Zarn was nineteen years old, very nearly twenty. In that time, he had experienced intercourse exactly three times: twice with common prostitutes, and once with a woman named Sharine, who said she loved him. For a few days after the latter tryst, he was actually happy, until he learned she just wanted to see whether or not he was any good in bed. Lacking much experience, he naturally wasn't, so she discarded him and moved on to someone else. Embarrassed and broken-hearted, Zarn had little interest in carnal pursuits from that point forward, focusing his mind completely on his studies.
He didn't fear sex, of course; or rather, he didn't think he did. Not that it mattered at this point, anyway. Thanks to his earlier experiences with women, he felt more than capable of resisting the advances of a succubus. No matter how beautiful she was, he doubted he'd be tempted by the flesh again, especially when he knew the demoness would be no different than Sharine: only interested in one thing. Honestly, if anyone among the Academy's flock of warlock trainees was capable of commanding a succubus, he was the one.
So what was it that worried him? As he checked his containment circle again for potential mistakes, Zarn thought he understood. A succubus dealt with only one sort of power, and that was physical energy. Magic came in several forms, from ethereal to natural, but only physical came from the human body itself. A succubus dealt exclusively in that sort of primal, internal power, and she did so through the medium of intercourse. Zarn wasn't exactly the most perfect physical specimen: thin, somewhat wiry, not particularly attractive, and lacking any athletic skills or flexibility. Somehow he doubted a succubus would be particularly impressed by his appearance.
Still, what did that matter? He was a warlock, or at least a warlock in training. He could command demons--he didn't ask for, or require, their approval. He had to remember this wasn't really a woman he would be dealing with. She would be a demon, in a pleasing female form of course, but still a demon nonetheless.
He thought of Sharine again, despite trying very hard not to. Sharine, with her long black hair and amazing curves, and that casually loosened top lace of her bodice...she had seduced him, of course. Even as she let him think he was the one making the first moves, all was taking place exactly as she planned. Naturally, at the time, he was blind to such things, being lost in her dark brown eyes and suggestive smile; but later, after the rejection, he understood what she'd done. Perhaps he was fortunate to escape so easily, although it didn't seem easy back then. What would his life be like today, had she chosen to wrap him still further about her little finger?
The memory of her was still painful, so Zarn pushed it aside. He would summon this succubus, then, and command her, and find out if perhaps a binding was possible. With a succubus at his side, at least he would never have to suffer another Sharine again.
He made one more pass across the containment circle, and again found no flaws or errors in the design. Nodding, he stepped outside, pushing his inks and the book to a corner of the room. There was no reason to read the summoning spell from the aged tome; he had already committed the words to memory. So, without any regrets or second-guessing, he began to chant, slowly and with great care. A mistake might ruin the spell, or worse.
He chanted for over a minute, reciting the words flawlessly. When he finished, the air within the circle began to swirl about. For a few moments, the space within grew dark, and when the light returned, there was a figure standing there, with her back to him. She stiffened momentarily, then let out a resigned sigh and turned around.
Zarn's eyes widened. The book said succubi were beautiful, and the arcane text was not mistaken. The demoness before him was tall, perhaps just half a hand shorter than his own six heads of height. Her hair was black as midnight, sweeping majestically down about her shoulders, framing a face as lovely as any he'd ever imagined. A single silky lock dangled down between sky-blue eyes, curling back across a pair of scarlet lips set in an exasperated line.
She wore an amazingly short red dress cut tightly about a svelte, hourglass figure almost impossibly trim. Long, firmly toned legs, clad in black leather boots buckled about her knees, seemed to extend forever below her narrow waist. Leaning sideways, she put one hand on a shapely hip and sighed, causing her ample bosom to shudder noticeably within the too-tight outfit. How she managed to slip that strapless dress on, and what magic aided its thwarting of gravity, Zarn had no idea.
In the long moment he stared breathlessly at her, she had been taking his measure, and with a frown she finally spoke. "Why is it I'm always getting summoned just when I'm going out?" the succubus complained. "Why can't you warlocks call me when I'm not busy? I was just about to leave for the club!"
Her voice was melodious, almost chiming in his ears, but still the tone of dismay was obvious, and he reacted instinctively. "Sorry," he apologized meekly. "I didn't mean to interrupt anything, but I didn't exactly know your schedule."
She threw up her hands. "Oh, whatever, not like you'd care! You'd call me anyway, you stupid warlocks always do. Hmm, wait a minute, I don't know you, do I? Have you summoned me before?"
"No, I haven't," admitted Zarn, shaking his head and regaining his composure. Whatever he'd expected from a succubus, this sort of reaction wasn't it! "Nonetheless, I have summoned you, and I invoke the exchange. I am Zarn, initiate of the Academy of the Mystical Arts, within the great city of Throxos. I would know your name, demoness."
"Oh, please, enough with the demoness crap. Call me Selinia." When her name received no reaction, she stopped looking at him and started examining the blood-red containment circle on the floor. "Initiate, eh? Pretty good work for a rookie. Have you summoned succubi before?"
"No, you're the first," he admitted. "I would speak of a bargain with you, Selinia. These are my terms..."
"Right to business, eh? Yeah, figures, that's what a rookie would do." She continued to walk around the circle, hands clamped around her curvaceous hips, occasionally bending over to inspect the runes on the floor. Naturally, Zarn found his eyes attracted to her exposed legs, the shadowy area just barely out of sight underneath the skirt, and the deep décolletage she purposely revealed, but he managed to keep control of himself.
"Yes, I would speak of a bargain," he went on, nervously biting his lip. "And, perhaps, an opportunity for us both."
Selinia didn't look back at him, but kept on studying at the circle. "This is really good work," she admitted. "Nothing I can't break through, but still, considering your youth, it's a good start." With that she turned to face him, smiling, and all at once she reminded him terribly of Sharine. The same sort of beauty, but with a streak of something dark hidden beneath what he knew to be a façade.
"So. An opportunity, eh? Look, kid, I've heard it all before. You want me, we both know it." She ran her hands suggestively down her sides, along those amazing curves, twisting her body as she did so. "Any man would want me. That's why I've spent a hundred years refining this form. Every spell you can imagine, every exercise program you can think of, every diet ever invented, I've done it all. I've slept with warlocks from every walk of life, exchanging power, taking some here, some there, sometimes more than I should, but that's what I am, after all."
She shrugged and made a little pirouette within the circle, swaying back and forth ever so slightly, effortlessly distracting Zarn's eyes to her incredible figure. "So tell me, boy, what opportunity can you possibly offer me that I haven't already heard a thousand times? Go on, make it snappy, then we can do the deed. I doubt someone like you could last more than three minutes with me anyhow, so at least I won't be late to my gig."
Zarn stared at her, mouth slightly agape, as she rattled off her entire speech, all the while smiling and posing in the most intriguing way. She was not at all what he'd expected. A succubus was supposed to try to seduce him, at least according to the book, and everything else he'd been taught about these creatures. This one was doing exactly the opposite. Except for her admittedly provocative appearance and stance, which seemed to him to be almost reflexive, he words weren't seductive at all. Unless, of course, she was using some sort of demonic reverse psychology.
Best to assume this was all some kind of ploy and continue as planned, Zarn decided. "Very well, Selinia, here is what I propose," he began cautiously. "I'm looking for a bonded demon."
Her eyes widened in surprise, and then she threw back her head and laughed. "Oh, that's a good one!" she managed through a cavalcade of giggles. "You, bond with me? Hilarious! I can't wait to tell this one to the girls back home! They're gonna love this one!"
"I'm completely serious," Zarn went on, unperturbed by her response. That part of her reaction was completely as expected. "As a new warlock, I have yet to bond with any demon, and I'm not interested in some lesser creature. After reading about the powers of a succubus, I believe one such as you might be what I'm looking for. In exchange, I offer..."
"Oh, stop!" she interrupted, continuing to laugh uproariously. "Please, I'm gonna hurt myself! This is too funny! I mean, come on, someone like me, bond with someone like you? A lowly recruit, not even a real warlock? You can't even make a proper containment circle yet, and you think you could bond with me?"
"I beg your pardon, Selinia, but I followed all the proper procedures. The blood is fresh, and my own. The circle is quite secure. In any case, you haven't even heard my offer yet. If you'd only take a moment to listen--"
All at once, she straightened up and ran a hand through her luxurious hair, causing it to flip back and down about her shoulders. In an instant, she became serious once more, and suddenly Zarn could feel the overwhelming energy emanating from her. Her pose became firm, authoritative, and forceful; even her skimpy dress, seemingly so sultry, suddenly took on a power of its own. She was no trifling demon to be casually summoned, her body language said in no uncertain terms, and Zarn felt a shiver of fear run down his spine at that realization.
Then, in a move that made his blood turn cold, she strode forward, passing through his containment circle like it didn't exist. He knew he should speak, to utter the words of banishment that would send her back to whence she came, but those bright blue eyes were fixed on his and he was paralyzed.
"My boy," she said, running a hand across his unshaven face. "My sweet young warlock wannabe, you don't know who you're dealing with, do you? Perhaps you should do some research on my name, Initiate, and learn what a narrow escape you've had today."
As she spoke, she walked around him, keeping her hand moving ever so slightly across the chilled skin of his neck. Her caress was intoxicating, and the faint perfume she wore made him tremble with fear and desire.
"You see, I could drain you right now," she whispered in his ear, even as beads of freezing sweat broke out across his forehead. "I could suck the very life from your bones, but you've done something few have managed. You've made me laugh. Yes, I haven't had a laugh this good in quite an age! Now take with you this memory of our encounter, dear boy, and be glad I'm in a hurry to get home."
She withdrew her lips from his ear, and he felt a kind of prickling sensation as the air behind him rushed away. With a start he broke from his paralyzed state and spun about, but she was gone, disappearing into the air like a mist in the morning sun.
He should've been terrified, or at the very least grateful to have survived, but instead all he could think was one thing:
She didn't even listen to my offer...
"Well?" asked Drak insistently. Not bothering to knock this time, he simply opened the door to Zarn's pitiful little room and pushed his way inside. "Did you summon one? I saw you had one of the chambers checked off, and you were in there an awfully long time..."
Zarn was looking into the tiny mirror hanging forlornly in the corner, combing his short brown hair carefully. His robes were clean and recently pressed, and his face was clear of the stubble he usually wore. While well groomed for the first time in quite a while, he still had the dark circles under his eyes that indicated a distinct lack of sleep.
"I did summon a succubus, if you must know," he replied with a sigh. "Nothing happened, though. Nothing that would interest you."
"Really? Try me," said Drak with a curious grin. "Come on, spit it out. Something must've happened, or you would've left that room right away, and not missed the start of dinner cycle like you did."
Zarn sighed again. He knew this was coming, of course; his friend was nothing if not inquisitive. Zarn just hadn't really decided how much he wanted to share, at least not until this moment. "Fine, if you want to know, I called a succubus. She was exquisitely beautiful, with long dark hair, an unbelievable body, and blue eyes that seemed to look right through me. She reminded me a lot of Sharine, actually."
"Uh-oh," replied Drak, his smile retreating at once. He was the one who'd helped nurse Zarn back to reality after the crushing end to that particular relationship. "Did she look like her on purpose? Was it some kind of illusion, just to trick you?"
"No, I think I did it, not her." Zarn shrugged. "We always put a little something of ourselves into the runes we prepare, right? I was thinking of Sharine while I built the containment circle, and I think the demon that came was guaranteed to remind me of her. That's not the problem, though. I can handle that part."
Drak continued to look concerned as he pulled up a chair and sat down, leaning forward intently. "Well, what then?"
"I tried to follow the usual parameters of a summoning," Zarn explained, pacing back and forth in the little room. "I exchanged names with her, and tried to suggest a bargain. She wasn't interested, though. She didn't even want to hear it. She said I'd interrupted something--I don't even think it was important, really, like a party of some kind--and then she walked right out of the circle I'd made, like it wasn't even there. She could've drained me, if she wanted, but instead she just laughed and broke the summons on her own. Just like that."
Drak's eyes widened while he heard the tale. There was no doubting his friend's sincerity as he spoke--the emotions were too direct to be faked. He'd known Zarn long enough to tell if he was making up a story. "I didn't realize succubi were that powerful, man. Sorry I ever suggested it."
"No, don't be. There's nothing to be sorry about. You couldn't have known. Anyway, I should've been able to contain her. I checked the circle afterwards, and found a couple of tiny breaks in the runes. Hairline fractures, if you will, but she worked them open like water dripping on a rock will eventually make it crack. The thing is, she cracked it in less than a minute, all while carrying on a conversation with me, and I never even knew she was up to anything, so I couldn't try any reinforcement spells. That's how good she was."
"Yeah, sounds dangerous," agreed Drak. "Remind me never to try summoning a succubus, at least not until we've graduated."
"You don't get it," Zarn protested. "Don't you see? An ordinary succubus couldn't have done that. This one wasn't ordinary, my friend. Not at all. So I went looking for her name in some of the more obscure texts we have lying around. And you know what? I found it."
As he spoke, he picked up a book from the desk along the side wall. The page he wanted to find was already marked, so he popped it open and showed the passage to Drak.
One of the more well known arch-succubi is Selinia, whose name has been known for well over a century. Unlike most of her kind, who are perfectly willing to make even trades of magical power, Selinia always insists on a little extra from those who dare to call her forth. By hoarding this additional energy over the decades, she has slowly become one of the most powerful succubi known to exist. Selinia now accepts summons only from the mightiest warlocks, and rarely answers a call from anyone she doesn't already know. Those who summon her are advised to barter swiftly and have their offerings prepared in advance, as she is quick to anger and just as quick to break through magical containments and protections. She is not to be summoned by any but the most pragmatic warlocks--and ensure you are ready with the swiftest banishment spell you know should dealings go awry.
Drak put the tome down carefully, and looked at his friend with something akin to awe. "You--you summoned her? An arch-demon? And you survived? How? Why?"
"I think it's because I amused her," replied Zarn meekly. "She said she hadn't had a good laugh in a while."
"Why, because you somehow managed to call an arch-demon, as an Initiate? She thought that was funny?"
"No, because of what I was proposing."
"Which was?"
"That I bind with her."
Drak laughed aloud, instantly breaking the somber mood that had overtaken the chamber since Zarn showed him the passage in the book. "Oh, that's great! No wonder she laughed! You wanted to bind with someone that powerful? She must've thought you were audacious beyond belief!"
"Well, I didn't know who she was!" protested Zarn. "I didn't know until I found her entry in that book there. The classes on named demons don't start until third year. There shouldn't even have been any way I even could've called her. My spell wasn't that complex, and I didn't speak her name. I know that much, anyway--you're supposed to say a specific name if you want to call an arch-demon."
"Obviously not," replied Drak. "I wonder if this sort of thing has ever happened before? I can't believe you're the first one to ever do this." His eyes lifted up towards the ceiling thoughtfully. "Maybe that explains the ten percent mortality rate they told us about..."
"Maybe so," Zarn agreed sadly. "She certainly could've killed me if she wanted. When she broke the circle, I didn't even know she'd done it. She cast some sort of paralysis on me without even a gesture, as far as I can remember anyway. They would've found me the next day as a pile of dust on the floor."
"Well, you got out of that one all right, I suppose," said Drak, shutting the book with a slam. "All's well that ends well. Now let's move on to better things, shall we? The Ceremony is tomorrow night, and you still need a demon."
"I know, I know. I've been thinking about that a lot, actually."
"So what are you going to bind with, then?" asked Drek curiously. "That imp of yours, or a grolmon? Please tell me it's not a tran!"
"No, nothing like that. Actually, I was thinking of something much better."
"What, then?"
"A succubus named Selinia," he replied with a grin.
"You're insane, you know that?" muttered Drak, even as he worked his own protective runes into the outer edge of the containment circle. "Have I mentioned that yet?"
"Only twenty-five times in the last hour," chuckled Zarn. As far as he could tell, the circle was complete, and had been for some time now. However, there was nothing wrong with reinforcing it a few additional times. There were probably still flaws that an arch-demoness could find, but the extra runes would hold her long enough to at least make his pitch.
"That's not enough," his friend replied. "You're insane, and so am I for agreeing to help you with this crazy project. We're both going to end up dead, I'm sure of it."
"Yes, I remember, you made out your will before we came, and all that. We're not going to die, though. We should have at least a couple of minutes to talk to her, and that's all I want. Just to be sure, we won't let it go longer than a minute and a half. As soon as the alarm spell pops, whichever of us can do it will banish her. No matter what, got it?"
"This assumes you can even summon her again," groused Drak. "Did you think of that? What if we get some other succubus?"
"We won't, we'll get Selinia, I'm sure of it. She came to my circle for a reason, and I'm sure she'll come again. I'm not sure why, but something in the runes I wrote and the spell I cast drew her to me. I think we're meant to be bonded, Drak--now all I have to do is win her over."
"Let me try this one more time," said his exasperated friend. "You are a warlock initiate, and she is a century-old arch-demon. What possible reason could she have to even talk to you, much less bond?"
Zarn shrugged. "I have no idea, but I have to try. Now step back, I'm going to start casting."
"That's nice, have a good time," Drak replied, taking a couple of steps towards the door. Zarn's harsh glance made him pause, though, and he turned back to take up his position opposite the circle. "Fine, fine, but just for the record, I still think we're both crazy."
"So do I," agreed Zarn, and without any further banter he began the spell. As before, he knew the words, and chanted them perfectly. Though tempted to include Selinia's name this time, he didn't, instead choosing to recite the spell exactly the same as he did the previous day.
When he finished, he and Drak waited a breathless instant, both wondering what exactly would happen. Then the air seemed to darken, there was a flash, and Selinia appeared before Zarn once again.
This time, she was dressed differently. Instead of the gravity-defying dress, she wore a purple long-sleeved silk blouse with several buttons deliberately left open down the front. Her black hair was tied in a ponytail that extended halfway down her back, but that single thin lock still dangled suggestively across her cheek. Below a wide leather belt at her waist, she wore tan jodhpurs that clung to her hips and legs like a second skin. From the slick black riding boots and the crop held tightly in one hand, Zarn guessed that she was about to climb on a horse, or whatever passed for one in the demon world.
"What the--oh for the love of all that is unholy, you have got be kidding me!" Selinia hissed in disgust, glancing around the room until her piercing blue eyes fell on Drak. "Just as I'm about to do some riding, I get another unscheduled summons, and from another initiate too! Is that stupid academy giving out my name to you idiots on purpose, as some kind of sick joke?"
Drak didn't reply--he was staring in open-mouthed awe at the arch-demoness before him. Zarn had warned his friend that she was captivatingly beautiful, but obviously there was talking about such things, and then there was actually seeing them in person. Furthermore, Selinia's clothing was like nothing they were familiar with; neither had ever seen any woman dressed quite that way, and the effect was exotic and intoxicating. Zarn tore his eyes off the exquisite curves of her derriere only with the greatest of difficulty.
"He didn't summon you, Selinia," Zarn heard himself saying. "I did."
She turned slowly, suddenly ignoring Drak as if he weren't there. "Oh, it's you again," she went on, those tight lips turning upward into a smile that concealed a barely contained fury. "I would've thought you'd be smarter than that, boy! You've made some improvements on your circle, I see, but it won't last long. You have approximately three minutest to live. Better make them count."
Those last words sparked Drak to action, and he managed to wrest his attention away from her amazing female form. With frantic words and gestures, he began casting a series of prepared strengthening spells on the containment circle. As he did, Zarn tapped into the energy slightly, paying attention to his circle this time, and almost staggered as he felt the immensely powerful magic lashing against his multi-layered walls. Three minutes suddenly didn't seem like long enough.
He forced himself to press on. Unlike Selinia, he couldn't cast spells and carry on a conversation at the same time. He had to hope Drak was up to the challenge of supporting him. "I propose a bargain between us, Selinia," Zarn offered quickly, knowing time was of the essence. "I suggest a warlock's bond, but not of the sort between master and servant. Clearly I cannot call you master, so we would be as equals. I would provide you with natural power from the mortal realm, and in exchange, you provide an equal amount of physical energy. The time and place of these exchanges will be by mutual agreement. What say you?"
She laughed aloud, just as she had the previous day. "Us? Equals? You flatter yourself, pup! I have a counter-proposal: a master and servant relationship, but with me the master and you the slave." She kept on laughing as she spoke, as though the very idea of such a thing was hilarious to her. "Yes, that would be more apropos, don't you think?"
"Unacceptable," replied Zarn quickly. "This is a warlock's bond, as I'm sure you understand well."
"If you know anything about me," Selinia said between continuing giggles, "you must know I don't make even bargains. Every warlock who has ever dealt with me, bonded or not, has always given a little more to me than I gave to them. That's how I roll, boy. It's been a long time since I've had a bond, and the idea of a more regular source of mortal power is intriguing, but not without something more. Something much more."
Zarn glanced quickly back at the alarm spell behind him. The warning had yet to trigger, so he still had time. But what could he possibly offer her? He had no idea, so the only thing he could think of was to ask her to suggest some sort of alternative. He opened his mouth to do just that, but unexpectedly, his time ran out.
At that moment Selinia broke through the containment circle, even though there was no visible effect to suggest that she had. Without warning, she suddenly drew herself to her full, imposing height, swung an arm about, and pointed her riding crop at Drak. In mid-spell, he sputtered, froze, rose off the ground, and flew backwards to the wall, collapsing in an unconscious heap. In the same instant, Selinia's head turned and her other hand came up. Zarn felt himself lifted off the floor, held firmly there as if her slender fingers were wrapped about his neck, even from a distance of ten feet away. Choking, he tried to speak the swift banishment spell he'd memorized, but no words came out.
"You're talented, boy, I'll give you that," said Selinia, confident now in her victory. "You'll make a good warlock someday, if you survive the rest of your training."
Zarn sputtered, struggling, but couldn't get free of that invisible grip. Surviving training was the last thing he was concerned about. He wanted to survive the new few minutes!
Stepping out of the circle like it wasn't there, Selinia approached him swiftly, coming to a halt just before his reddening face. The heels of her riding boots clicked loudly on the floor as she snapped sharply to a halt. "You have a lot of potential, you know. I can see it in you, Zar or whatever your name is, and because of that I'm going to give you one last warning. Don't summon me again until you know what you can give me that will make me want to agree to your silly bargain, because I promise you: if you do call me again, and you aren't extremely convincing, I will kill you where you stand. Is that understood?"
Zarn couldn't speak a reply. All he could do was force a barely visible nod, even as he struggled to keep his breath.
"Good," replied Selinia. "Now if you excuse me, I have an afternoon riding session to get to. And not that kind of riding, either. Sheesh, you initiates, always with your minds in the gutter! Ta-ta!"
Without another word, she vanished, riding crop and all. The grip on his throat was gone just like that. Zarn fell to the floor, caught himself, and dropped to his knees, gasping for breath. At that moment, the alarm rune popped, warning him all too late that it was time to cast the banishing spell.
He hurried over to Drak, but his friend was fine, just unconscious. In fact, he was already coming around, moaning and rubbing the back of his head, where a large bump would surely form soon--if it hadn't already.
Less than a minute, Zarn figured. That's all it took for Selinia to break though the containment circle, even through active reinforcements. Such power...!
What could he possibly offer someone like her? Someone so strong, so confident, so supreme in her abilities? And why hadn't she killed him? Twice now she had the chance to do so easily. Did she want him to try again? Did it amuse her to watch his feeble efforts, and thwart them with such ease?
Of course it did. He was nothing to her, really. She was as a god was to a man, or a man was to an insect. She could crush him at will. He was no challenge to her whatsoever.
But what if he was? Was that what she wanted? A challenge? Just as he, too, was looking for the same...and the summoning had brought them together, perhaps for that very reason.
All at once everything clicked. Zarn knew then what he could offer someone like Selinia, something she herself probably didn't even realize she needed. Best of all, because she was so overconfident, it was something she wouldn't even see coming.
He would offer her defeat.
Zarn checked the lock on his chamber door for the third and final time. Yes, it was still well secured. No one would disturb him, not even Drek, should he choose to pay his friend a last-minute visit. Still, Drek would expect Zarn to be in a summoning chamber right now, calling forth a lesser demon to bind with, here in the final hours before the Ceremony. Zarn would never be so foolish as to try conducting a summons within his own quarters, instead of the secure and magically warded rooms deeper within the Academy. Would he?
Surely not, and yet here he was, pacing back and forth, contemplating just that. The Ceremony was close, and Zarn still hadn't bonded. In the past several days, he'd considered and reconsidered his desire for Selinia over and over again. She was the demon for him, he was convinced of this. Yet he was still too youthful to best her in any sort of magical confrontation. Furthermore, he had nothing to offer her to complete the bonding bargain. She had already stated she wouldn't trade for any promises of future power. She wanted something now.
So he had only two choices: accept a lesser demon for the bonding, until he found the right offering for Selinia later; or somehow defeat the arch-succubus in some way. That was the only thing that would do the trick--the only thing she would appreciate. She would accept nothing less. But how to achieve such a feat?
Zarn spent several sleepless nights contemplating the puzzle before him. How to conquer an arch-demon, one who could break his containments and subdue him with but a gesture? That seemed impossible, but there had to be a way. She was supremely confident in her power--overconfident, in fact, and that might just lead to her downfall.
Yet even if he could somehow best her, that alone might not suffice. She had already proven she could return to whence she came with but a thought. If he resorted to some sort of trickery or deception, she could simply depart without ever agreeing to any bargain. No, her defeat had to be overwhelming, decisive, and most importantly, repeatable.
For the last few days, Zarn had haunted the libraries, reading every tome he could get his hands on, trying to find some advantage he could exploit. Sleep was his enemy, so he dozed only intermittently, when his weariness overcame him. Food and water were consumed only while poring over books. Even during the last of his exams, he barely paid attention to the questions, answering them by rote while continuing to contemplate the challenge that was Selinia.
Finally, as he dropped into one of his many naps, something came to him. He was thinking once more of how he was but an insect before her, a buzzing fly to be slapped away at will. The seeds of an idea sprouted into a full-fledged blossom then. To defeat her decisively, he would have to reverse that comparison. She would have to be the insect, and he the giant with the swatter.
From that moment forth, he shifted his research to the enchanter's arts. Their form of magic was strange, but was magic just the same. Could it be adapted to a warlock's uses? If so, he might have found the answer.
Even now, as he paced back and forth worriedly in his room, he wasn't sure. He was treading on unexplored territory here. The containment circle, painstakingly traced into the wooden surface of his desk at a scale of one-twelfth its normal diameter, was laced with runes of wizardly magic. The power crystals nearby, borrowed surreptitiously from the wizards' wing of the Academy, were supplying sufficient energy to activate the conversion spell when the summons was complete. Everything appeared in readiness, but Zarn had no idea if this would work. If she appeared as she always did, her very size would break the little circle instantly, leaving him vulnerable to swift retribution. Everything counted on that enchantment functioning properly, yet he would get only one chance at this, so he had no time to test it out.
His eyes fell once more on the sheaf of papers collected near the circle. His will, of course, prepared prior to his previous ill-fated attempt to summon Selinia. He glanced over the documents one last time, making sure there was no error, and placed them out of the way, where they would be easily found should his efforts fail.
There was no sense waiting any longer, he told himself. He wasn't going to summon some lesser creature for a binding. Only Selinia would do. He would have her, or he would perish.
He stood before the little containment circle, not even bothering to check its security. He doubted very much the tiny runes would hold her long, even if the enchantment functioned properly. He didn't know if Selinia's power would be diminished along with her, but even so, it would be more than sufficient to break through the imperfect circle. After all, he simply lacked the fine manual dexterity needed to produce flawless runes at a fraction of their normal size. That would be the equivalent of painting a masterpiece onto a canvas only a fingernail's width across.
Best to get this done, he told himself. If the enchantment worked, he would at least have a chance.
He began to recite the words he already knew by heart. Words that had haunted him these past few days, daring him to cast them. As he did, he idly wondered if any other warlock had ever contemplated something like this. Surely they had. Perhaps this was a technique he would be taught in classes later. Or perhaps there was a reason such things were never tried. A very good reason he would soon find out for himself...
He pushed those worries away, for the spell was almost done. He spoke the final word and held his breath, waiting for the swirling of air to appear. If it formed at full size, he might have a chance to utter a banishment spell before she smote him down...
As he finished the chant, the power stones flared and darkened, expending their magic exactly as intended. Instead of creating a portal in the proper scale, the opening was one-twelfth its normal dimensions. As a result, the darkening vortex formed within the much smaller containment area, in exactly the same scale as the circle itself. An instant later Selinia appeared, but now she stood less than a hand's breadth in height.
As usual, she was wearing something as alien and exotic as it was enticing to look upon. There was a tightly laced leather corset wrapped securely around her ample torso, but cut off halfway so her flat stomach, complete with a little speck of a navel, was plain to see. About her waist she wore a silky black triangle of fabric that resembled a G-string of sorts, covering very little below her waist. Her arms and legs were sheathed in long black gloves and boots literally festooned with metal studs and buckles that served no purpose other than for decoration. About her slender neck she wore a collar tipped with gleaming iron spikes, and in her right hand she held a wicked-looking bullwhip.
"Okay, that's it," she growled angrily, though her voice was but a whisper compared to its usual firmness. "Now you're seriously pissing me off! I can't even get a good torture session in without a blasted interruption!"
She turned about, looking for the warlock who'd dared summon her, but to Zarn's surprise she didn't notice him right away. Perhaps the gray robes towering near the edge of the table looked like walls or curtains of a sort, and she didn't think to look up. All at once his worries faded, and a smile crept across his youthful face. Yes, this just might work after all...
"Well, who summoned me? Come on out, if you dare!" the doll-sized succubus yelled, turning around completely with a baffled look on her flustered little face. Almost reflexively, she cracked the whip at her side, producing a soft snapping sound, but she remained perplexed. "This is your work, Zarn, I can tell by this pathetically weak design on this circle. Something different about it, though...are those runes of enchantment? And this writing is terrible! Did you do this in your sleep? Pitiful, absolutely pitiful!"
Still not noticing his presence towering over her, Selinia stepped easily out of the circle, casting about across the desk as she searched in vain for her summoner. Zarn remained motionless, enjoying her difficulties. Surely, if he were there at her scale, she would've crushed him by now, but this time she was the insect before him, not the other way around.
"What is this place?" she wondered aloud. "What have you brought me to, boy? This looks like a desk, and these are power stones, and a quill...but so everything's so much larger--ah! Now I see! That explains all."
All at once she looked skyward, and caught sight of his distant face smiling down at her. Without a hint of further surprise, she put her hands on her curvaceous hips and scowled. "This is your plan?" she yelled, and her little voice carried easily up to his ears. "Reduce me to this size, along with my magic, so you can more easily defeat me? Foolish pup, I still carry more than enough energy to--"
"Prove it," he interrupted smoothly, for he'd already anticipated her threats. "Go on, Selinia, prove it. If you have the power, go right ahead and drain me."
She folded her arms across her chest, forcing her tightly bound bosom upwards noticeably. Even at doll size, she still looked ravishing, and Zarn had to force himself not to be swayed by her provocative appearance. "Nice try," she hissed angrily. "You know full well I'd waste ten times as much power as I should. It's hardly worth the exchange, so you get to live--for now. I can still kill you at any time, though. Don't forget that!"
Zarn smiled again. So tiny, and yet still so supremely confident! Well, perhaps she could yet destroy him, but he'd at least earned some time. "Very well, I'll keep that in mind," he told the little demoness. "You said I shouldn't summon you again until I had something to offer you that would make you willing to accept a binding."
She put her hands on her hips again and looked up at him impatiently. "Yes? Get on with it, will you? My prisoners back home won't interrogate themselves, you know."
Inwardly, he wondered if that's really what she was up to, dressed so provocatively as that, but he didn't press the issue. "Well, I could explain it to you, Selinia, but instead I think I'd rather show you."
She smiled slyly. "Ah, I see," she replied, arching her back and leaning slightly to one side. Even at that much-reduced height, her shining blue eyes still held power. "Perhaps you'd like to release this enchantment of yours, so we can talk it over a little more...intimately?"
He broke his gaze away. "No, what I'm going to show you requires you remain that way, I'm afraid," he told her. "I rather like you like that, actually. Here, let me show you what I'm talking about."
With that, he reached out for her, aiming for her midsection. In response she instantly jumped back, cracking the bullwhip into one of his fingertips. Apparently she'd expected that, and he yanked the hand away from the minor sting by reflex. Glancing down, he saw no blood; the weapon didn't have the power to break his skin, apparently.
"Don't do that again," Selinia warned. "I won't be casually handled like some child's toy! I am an arch-demon, not a plaything!"
"Be that as it may," he replied, moving his hand towards her once more, "you're less than a hand tall. I'd say that makes you more of a toy than anything else."
He feinted with his right hand a couple of times, drawing cracks of the whip and angry curses from the tiny succubus, but all the while he was slowly bringing up his left hand behind her. As she backed away from another attack, Selinia suddenly found huge fingers wrapping themselves about her waist. "Release me!" she screeched, snapping her weapon onto his flesh repeatedly, but by this point he was used to the minor stings. "Put me down at once!"
"Give me that!" he commanded, seizing the flailing whip with the thumb and forefinger of his free hand. With a quick yank he disarmed her and tossed the annoying strap aside, where it fell to a dusty corner of the room. "Now stop it! Struggling is only going to make things harder on yourself, you know."
She was kicking wildly and pounding on his fingers, but of course the blows had little effect. He could've easily crushed her in his grip, but all that would've done was broken the summoning spell, which was probably what she wanted. Instead he carefully tightened his hold, firmly securing her under his thumb, and almost casually sat down in the nearby chair. His grin widened as he watched her frustrated, futile efforts. To think, this was the powerful arch-demoness that could've killed him twice over!
Perhaps she could still do that, he thought to himself. He could still feel her aura of power, even as she physically struggled, but she wasn't using it. Why not? Was she really that concerned about using more energy than necessary? Probably not--she had more power than she knew what to do with, or so the texts told him. Furthermore, he knew that if she wanted to, she could retreat to the plane of demons, now that she was free of the containment circle. Yet here she remained.
His smile widened. He was right about her, he knew without a doubt. Now to seal the deal.
"Are you through?" Zarn asked, still grinning at her like a fisher at his catch. "You must know you can't possibly get free."
Gasping for breath, she stopped fighting for a moment, until he lessened his grip just so, at which point she put out a final burst of strength. When that, too, failed to achieve any results, she sagged in exhaustion. "Fine!" she yelled angrily at his massive face. "You can trap me if you want, but you still haven't earned a bond! Not that one would be of much use to you with me stuck like this. My ability to store a warlock's magic would be as diminished as I am." She smiled defiantly back at him. "So there you have it, boy! For all your trickery, you've achieved naught but a stalemate."
"I beg to differ," he responded. "I've only just gotten started, my little demon doll. You see, I think I understand you now."
"Oh?" She folded her arms about her chest again, but abandoned all attempts at looking seductive. The glare on her tiny face was one of pure hatred. "You don't know anything about me, Initiate!"
"Don't I?" Zarn held her up to his face, relaxing his grip so he only had her waist clasped between finger and thumb. She didn't struggle or try to break free this time, although she probably could've done so. Playing to her curiosity, Zarn pressed on. "You've lived at least a hundred years, so you think you've seen it all. You've been summoned by probably thousands of warlocks, and from all of them you've taken more than you give. You've won every battle you've fought, haven't you? That's why you won't de-summon yourself now. You've never fled from a fight."
"Nonsense!" she protested haughtily. "I'm not some mere mortal, to be cowed by something as churlish as foolish pride!"
"So you say," said Zarn knowingly, "yet here you remain, confident that this is at worst a stalemate. Fine, think what you will, but let me ask you something else. In all your many years of seduction, have you ever found satisfaction?"
A brief flicker of surprise flashed across Selinia's face, but she stiffened instantly. "Of course I have," she insisted, as if to suggest otherwise was insulting. "I am a dealer in pain and pleasure. Every cry of anguish and moan of ecstasy is what I live for!"
"I didn't ask about someone else's feelings, I asked about yours," countered Zarn. "I'm sure you've brought such emotions to others, but has anyone ever done the same for you?"
She opened her mouth to reply, but hesitated. For the first time, she didn't have a snappy response to something Zarn said. He nodded at once, realizing he'd found the right angle, and before she could get a word in, he raced on. "No, I didn't think so. Well, here's the thing, Selinia. I have you right now where no mortal as ever had you. You're helpless to resist anything I do, and stopping you would take more power than you want to expend. Plus, you can't retreat without admitting failure. So now I'm going to defeat you. I'm going to beat you the only way I can--by inflicting on you the very pain and pleasure you so enjoy inflicting on others. There won't be any exchange of power, or any bargains or agreements. I'm just going to use my fingers here, and some other items I've collected, to give you the one thing you've never had in all your many years as a temptress."
With that, he reached out with his free hand and opened a drawer. From therein, he withdrew a handful of unusual objects, causing his little prisoner to emit a noticeable gasp. There were small kitchen implements, carpenters' tools, artists' brushes, plumbing equipment, and more, and he casually spread everything out on the tabletop like a diner preparing to consume a sumptuous meal.
She glared up at him, understanding now exactly what he intended to do. However, she didn't struggle or fight to escape. Perhaps she knew doing so would be futile, or perhaps she didn't care.
Zarn reached for a small, sharp-looking knife and held it up before her. "The first thing we should do, I suppose," he said intently, "is get that strange-looking garment off of you. After that, well...I suppose we'll have to see."
The knife moved closer, and Selinia instinctively tried to back away, but that only made him tighten his grip all the further. Again those shining blue eyes flashed at him, her face a mask of anger and frustration. And yet, for the briefest of moments, the faintest of smiles crossed her lips, and she threw her head back, wincing as the knife sliced through tiny laces.
"Pride be damned!" she screamed at him, twisting and fighting once again, even as her articles of clothing fell away one by one. "Do your worst, boy!"
"Don't worry, my little doll of a succubus," he replied with a wicked smile, gazing hungrily down at the miniature demon in his grip. "That's exactly what I'm going to do."
Hopefully, thought Drak, his friend came to his senses and called some lesser demon. Selinia was amazing, but way too powerful to ever bind with. Somehow, though, Drak knew his friend was going to try. If the obsessed youth didn't show up in the next few minutes, that would probably mean he'd failed and died in the attempt.
Too bad, Drak mused. I'll miss him. The only real friend I had in this place.
He looked around the open hall. All around him were warlock initiates engrossed in conversation with each other, each with their newly bonded demon in tow. Most of those were grolmons or imps, with a few nashini and elegorn thrown in for good measure. Drak glanced down at his own nash, a bat-winged creature half his height that fed off of human waste. Not the most fashionable of demons, but powerful enough to get him through the ranks of the Adepts, and perhaps beyond. He should've been proud to have one, like the others who were openly flaunting theirs, but he just didn't feel all that happy about it. If Zarn were here, he would've brought a tran'loggoth for sure, and in that he would've been unique. If only he'd gotten his mind off that stupid succubus!
Drak sighed. The whole thing was his idea. Why couldn't he have kept his mouth shut? Then Zarn would still be--
He stopped in mid-thought. There was a commotion coming from across the gathering hall, and all the babbling words about him were coming to a halt. Everyone seemed to be looking at something or someone who was passing through the crowd. The onlookers flowed away as a young man in gray initiates' robes strode through, but that wasn't what had everyone's attention. That honor lay with the incredibly beautiful black-haired woman who strode alongside him, arm wrapped tightly in his. She was wearing a purple evening gown that dipped low in front in a series of attractive folds, and slit up the side to reveal a generous portion of well-toned thigh. She was smiling and even giggling as she exchanged words with the man she escorted, and both of them were immediately recognizable.
Zarn! With Selinia, of all things, and both enjoying themselves completely. For all Drak could tell, they might as well be attending a weekend party.
They strode right up to him. "Hey, Drak, look who I brought!" chuckled Zarn, obviously amused by the totally bewildered look on his friend's face. "I'd like you to meet my date for the evening, the gorgeous Lady Selinia."
"Charmed," replied the demoness with a smile. "Oh, yes, I remember you now. Sorry about that smackdown the other day. Pure reflex, I assure you."
"Uh, that's okay," sputtered Drak. "I'm just, um, glad you didn't, er, you know...kill me."
"The pleasure's all mine," she replied, then turned back to Zarn. "I hate to admit it, but this is a lot of fun," said the demon. "Everyone in here is staring at us! I haven't been the center of attention like this in a long time."
Indeed, all eyes in the hall were on them, and most lingered upon the gorgeous Selinia. The tumult of conversation began again, but this time the subject was obviously the two new arrivals. Nobody approached, though, giving the group of three plenty of space.
"By the Gods," muttered Drak, suddenly realizing what must've happened for the succubus to be here, outside a containment circle. "You did it, didn't you? You actually did it! But how? How did you get her to bind with you? She's an arch-demoness!" Noticing her somewhat icy stare, he stopped and turned to her sheepishly. "Oh, sorry, Selinia, no offense, but I mean, you're so much more powerful than--"
"No offense taken," she replied easily, twisting a finger around a lock of Zarn's carefully groomed brown hair. Shamelessly, she ran a hand up and down his arm, and then under his robes to caress his hairless chest. "Let's just say he made me an offer I couldn't refuse."
"Oh, come on!" Drak protested. "There must be more to it than that!"
"I can't tell you," Zarn said with a shrug. "That was one of the conditions of our bargain, you see."
"Can't have word of this getting out," agreed Selinia. "After all, we wouldn't want every warlock in the world snaring a succubus so easily. Don't worry, I didn't consume his soul or anything like that!"
"There must be something else," said Drek worriedly. "She wouldn't let you get away without some other condition!"
"Yes, well there is one other thing I have to do," agreed Zarn. "One tiny little favor every so often." He grinned at the wording and flashed a wink at Selinia.
"Yes, believe me, it's just a miniscule little thing." She laughed, and Zarn joined in heartily, holding her fingers up about a hand's breadth across. "Very, very small. Trust me on this. Your friend is quite a bargainer, Drak. Quite a bargainer indeed."
Before Drak could say anything else, another figure pushed its way through the crowd. This was an older man, with graying beard, dressed in red robes marked with golden runes that denoted his rank. None other than Magister Timerius, the headmaster of the Academy, and he didn't look happy. Not happy at all.
"What is this?" he demanded, glaring at the two initiates while trying very hard not to look at the lovely woman in the purple dress. "A succubus? Here? Which one of you dared summon this creature?"
"That would be me," admitted Zarn at once. As he did, Drak slowly backed away, managing to slide to a position out of the angry headmaster's line of sight. Zarn, meanwhile, went on blithely. "Sorry, sir, but the rules required I bring a bonded demon to the ceremony. They didn't specify what type of demon that had to be. I could choose any sort I wished, and this was my choice."
"You can't--wait, what?" Suddenly flustered, the Magister's face began to turn beet red. "You bonded with a succubus? You? A mere Initiate?"
"Yes, sir," admitted Zarn meekly, trying not to let the pride show on his face too much. Selinia, still seemingly attached to his side, ran a hand across his face and twirled at his hair again, beaming happily.
"You bonded with a--well, it doesn't matter!" coughed the flustered Timerius. "You can't summon a succubus as an Initiate! You know that's a clear violation of any of several edicts, and bringing one to the Ceremony without permission is another. I'm afraid I'm going to have to--"
Before he could finish, Selinia suddenly detached herself from Zarn and took a forceful step forward. "Now, Magister, there's no need to get hasty," she said in a deep, sultry voice, kept low so that none of the many onlookers could hear, save of course for Zarn. "I'm sure we can come to some sort of understanding, don't you think?"
"Don't try your seductress's charms on me!" snapped the man. "I'm old enough to be immune to your kind!"
"Ah, but there was a time when that wasn't always true, wasn't there, my dear Timmy?" She reached up to cup his beet-red cheek in her palm. "Don't you remember, when you were just a youth, at this very school? Those secret summonings late at night, when all was quiet? And the long strolls out in the fields, under the moonless sky? Just a few trysts with a succubus still securing her power, a few moments of pleasure tucked away within the depths of your studies. You know, I wasn't yet quite so well known back then as I am now, and of course you may remember me as a blonde..."
"Gods' blood!" gasped Timerius in recognition, suddenly backing away as if she were on fire. "It is you, isn't it? Selinia! But you're an arch--"
His face went white and he looked over at Zarn, aghast. For a moment he seemed like he wanted to say something else, but when he opened his mouth, nothing came out.
"Now, my precious Timmy," said Selinia in that same low, seductive voice, "surely you can see there's no reason to do anything to young Zarn here. He is, after all, no more inquisitive than you were in your youth. Besides, I wouldn't want word getting out that the headmaster of the Academy had inappropriate dealings with a succubus before he graduated. That would seem somewhat hypocritical, wouldn't you agree?"
Again the Magister sputtered a few times, but in the end he let his shoulders sag in defeat. "Very well!" he finally snapped. "I won't expel you, Initiate, but I'll have my eye on you now. You'd better be on your best behavior if you want to graduate under my watch!"
He didn't wait for a reply, but stormed off, heading towards the dais at the far end of the hall. The Ceremony was to begin as scheduled, apparently. The babble of conversation began again, but somewhat more subdued this time.
"That was amazing," said Zarn, taking Selinia's slender hand in his own. "I had no idea you had any kind of history with the Magister, my dear."
"Oh, that was a long time ago," she replied, grinning. "He was quite the energetic youth back then, and I was still coming into my own. One of my better customers, really. In any case, you do realize, of course, that now you owe me another favor."
"I'm sure I do," agreed Zarn, returning her smile. "What is it you would have of me, my charming little doll?"
She leaned in close, putting her lips to his waiting ear. The odor of her perfume was as enticing as ever, and the nearness of her was nothing short of intoxicating. Quietly, so no one could overhear, she told him her answer.
"The next time you summon me," she whispered excitedly, "do you think you could make me even smaller...?"