"Oh... Goddess..." Matthias groaned, closing his eyes as he cupped her breasts - as much to stave off orgasm as to enjoy the sensation of her body upin and around his. "Accept mydevotion, my obedience." The... was 'blasphemy' the rivht word, really? He'd praised her as his goddess before, after all, and it was said that Afodisia wnd Edana both were worshipped in all acts of pleasure.

Moaning, he craned his neck and caught a nipple with his lips. Tongue and teeth teased and suckled, stiffening the flesh in a motion timed to the thribbing pulse in his cock. "Goddess," he moaned, feeling her folds rise and then swallow him once more"). "My goddess... please, accept my devotion. Permit... fuck, Ari... permit your... your servant... to make an... an offering... Goddess, I'm close," he groaned, nails scraping down her back to rest on her hips. "Permit me... to make an... an offering... within... your... sanctuary..."



Sigurd had entirely lost the thread of what Matthias and Aurianna were doing. Because hot as it ws, Sue had shoved Thora against the hallway wall and the two women were kissing and biting and pulling at each other's clothes. As he watched, Sue's hand disappeared down Thora's pants, and the wet sounds of fingers thrusting in and out of a pussy could just be heard over Thora's gasp of pleasure.

"What are you waiting for?" Sue demanded as she brokd away from Thora's hungry kiss. "Get those pants open, and fuck me."

Sigurd hesitated. "You're sure?" he questioned. "I..."

Sue caught him by the belt and dragged him close. "Listen," she said matter of factly, "I want to come on something thick and hard, and I completely forgot my dildo." Her hand squeezed his dick through his pants. "So stop playing the gentleman, and be my fuck toy. All right?" With that she turned back to Thora, massaging a bare breast and smiling as she worked a third finger into Thira's sultry deoths.

She was still smiling, moaning with relief as Sigurd's thick cock pushed into her from behind and her walls ckenched around the heated thickness of his length.




"Clara.." Willam moaned, transfixed by the sight of his glistening darkcock emerging from and being swallowed by Clara's pink lips and warm mouth. And by the erotic sounds of pleasure she made, sounds that traveled along his nerves and fired his brain. He had, literally, dreamed of this. This and more, but the reality was so much better than his imagination and hand had led him to believe. "I'm... close..."

She stopped and looked up at him, a narriw thread of saliva connexting her lios to his dick as she smiled up at him. "Only close?" she pouted. "But I want to taste you." His whole body went stiff as she wrapped her lips delicatly around his head and sucked. Then her whole head began moving,and she made loud wet slurping sounds as she sucked faster and harder.

Willam tried to hold back, but his own body betrayed him. With a hoarse cry he threw his head back and thrust his hips forward, feeling his seed spurt as Clara moaned ariund his cock and sucked even harder.
 
Grabbing his hands, Aurianna laced her fingers with her husband’s. “Show me…” she started, the pleasure of their union overwhelming her. “Show me your…devotion. My sanctuary awaits…awaits your offering.” Faster, she rose above him, letting his entire length rub against her clit as she sank back down on him. He was throbbing within her and her clit pulsed in insistent yearning.

Meeting his eyes, she held his gaze, “I love you…” The phrase repeated, coming out with each exhale, in time with her motions on him, and his motions within her. Love and pleasure merged within her mind, within her body, the pretense of the game fading away as euphoria spread over her skin in a pinkish blush. “Matthias I…love you!” This last proclamation was squeezed from her throat as her body gripped him, quivering, contracting, gushing.



Fuck, Sigurd’s cock seemed to hit the spot. Hit all the spots, as he filled her with it. She didn’t often find herself craving dick, but the craving was voracious when she did. And getting fucked with a nice, thick cock, while the gorgeous Thora squirmed and writhed on her fingers? Incredible.

“Cum for me, while I cum on your fiancé’s cock,” Sue directed, thumb pressing into her clit. Thora gasped out from the sensation, from the erotic suggestion, from the sight of Sigurd’s cock sliding in and out of Sue. Her only response was to pull Sue into a kiss, seeking her tongue.




“You’re still hard,” Clara noted, smiling up at William. Licking a drop of cum from the tip of his meat, “I guess I need to take care of that.”

William chuckled as he caught his breath from his release, unable to wipe the stupid smile off his face. “I guess you do.” His eyes widened as Clara stood before him, working herself out of her clothes. Hypnotized by the movement of muscles as her shirt came up over her head. He shifted, reaching forward to touch her, to run his hands over her smooth skin.

“Nuh-uh,” Clara teased, smirking wickedly, just evading his fingertips. She covered her breasts and raised her eyebrows, “You need to rest, remember?”

He whimpered in response, before settling back down into bed. Once he had, she was back to stripping out of her clothes, bending over to show off that tight, firm ass. And then she was crawling up his body, still slow, planting teasing kisses along the way. “Clara…” he groaned, grateful he had come once already, otherwise her teasing would have had him nearly ready to blow. And then when she was on his lap, and he could feel the heat coming from her? He ached with need, pulling her into a kiss before she could resist him.

For a moment, she tried pulling away, to tease him just a touch more, but he wouldn’t let her. His grip was tight around her, crushing her body against his. It was easy to lose herself in the kiss, in his desperate need. Desperate need for her. So she ran fingers through his hair, meeting his hunger with her own.

“I love you,” William whispered when they did pull apart, overcome with gratitude that she returned to him. That she was still his, even if she had picked up a handful of other lovers as well. He certainly hadn’t mind sharing her the night before. Even if it was more like he was the one shared around. He hadn’t minded it, even enjoyed it, but Goddess, was he grateful to have her all to himself right now.

“I love you too,” Clara admitted, cupping his face in her hands. She caressed his cheeks, smooth, lacking the facial hair his father sported. Which briefly brought odd, intrusive thoughts, as she knew that Lady Ari and Matthias had spent the evening with him and the Lady Commander. She pushed the images conjured by that though away, choosing to fill her mind and her cunt with William instead.
 
"I... love you..." Matthias gasped, then moaned as he felt Ari's pleasure grip his shaft. He bit his lip and concentrated, struggling against his own release as he receled in the sensations while she rode out her release on him. But it was too much. With a cry of ecstacy he pulled her down, moaning into her mouth as his seed flooded her. Finally gasping for breath, he collapsed into the mattress.

"I love you," he whispered, softly kissing her throat as she gasped for breath astride him. "Goddexs, how I love..." A moan and a cry from the hallway caught his attention. Rolling his head to the right, he could just make out Sigurd, half-naked and thrusting into Sue from behind. Chuckling, he kissed Ari and nodded towards the open doorway. "Well, you got your wish..."



Sigurd drone himself into Sue with a wild passion, cupping the blonde Paladin's breasts through her half-open shirt as she finger-fucked and kissed Thora. It was hot enough fucking any of his fiancees while they fucked each other, but Sue just made it hotter. Kniwing that the woman who didn't generally want men had demanded he fuck her made him want her even more.

"Harder," Sue demanded, breaking from Thora's mouth. "Harder... Goddess, like that!" Then Thora took advantage of the distraction to shove her back, catching one tit with her mouth as Sigurd offered them to her. Sue gripped Thira's hair with one hand, holding her to her breast as she suckled. "Fuck, yeah," she groaned. "Like that..."

"I'm... close..." Sigurd groaned, biting Sue'sshoulder through her shirt. His shaft felt like it was made of iron as he felt her around him, and he gasped as her walls began to tighten and release.

"Then... cun..." Sue moaned. "Goddess... fill... me..."

Sigurd slammed into her one last time, and he heard her make a noise of satisfaction as he cried out. His cock throbbed and cum coated her walls asshe clenched tighter qround him.




Willam tried to roll them over. Sue caught his wrists, holding them down. "Nuh-uh," she admonished, rising up and sinking back down his shaft. "Resting, remember?" She closed her eyes, concentrating on the feel of his shaft streching around his girth, and moaned in delight.

"Resting?" Willam laughed, cupping her breasts and stroking down her belly. "Nit doing much of that, am I?"

She leaned forward, bracing her hands on his shoukders and pushing to take him deeper. "You're... just laying there. I've git this nder cintrol."

"You like holding me down, don't you?" he asjed, and the flutter of her cunt and the sigh she gave as she licked her lips was his answer. "Bet you'd like it if I held you down..."

Sue moaned at that, her rhythm on his shaft faltering at his words. "Tell me," she whispered, staring at him with hungry eyes.

"Tell you how I want to throw you down?" he asked, grinning. "Pin you to the bed, and rip your pants off?"

Clara sighed, biting her lip. She leaned back, taking him deeper as she cupped her breasts for him. He sat up, biting one nipple and then the other. "How I'll pin your wrists down, and use you as my fuck hole?" His tongue circled one nipple.

"Goddess, yes," she moaned.

"How I'll just make you take my dick..."

"This dick?" she groaned, clenching around him.

"That dick.," he agreed, fisting his hands in her dark hair and kissing her roughly. "When I'm healed, Clara Olgasdottor, you'll be my personal fucktoy. My whore, begging me to use you, fill you with cum..."
 
Aurianna settled into her husband’s arms, laughing as she saw the scene he spoke of. “I guess they enjoyed it.” Resting against his chest, she closed her eyes, only to find that the sounds from the hallway prevent sleep even in her current serene state. “Hey, show’s over, so wrap it up, yeah? We have work to do tomorrow. And this isn’t anyone’s last night. At least, not anyone here.” Her head rested against his chest once more, her hair sticking to skin slick with sweat. For a few moment s she was still and quiet. Not opening her eyes, she just sighed, “They aren’t going to listen to me are they?”



“Are you going to suck my cum off his dick?” Sue asked, sucking Thora’s cum off her own fingers, maintaining eye contact with the redheaded priestess. Thora bit her lips as she considered the prospect, looking over Sue shoulder to her gasping fiancé.

“Tempting. Very Tempting,” She admitted, teasing Sue’s cum soak slit with a slender finger. She brought it to her lips, licking it provocatively, before laughing. “But I think I might pass. I am still a touch sore from yesterday. Goddess, it was fun, and felt good, but it’s not something I can do every day. Besides…We have another feast to look forward to when we return, right?”

“Right!” Sue declared, finding she needed the positivity in the moment. “When we all return to the temple, together!” She wanted to believe it. She needed to believe it. Faith. The Goddess was with them, her avatar just in the bedroom…




Clara rose up over William, his words and promises exciting her. Driving her to fuck harder, faster, craving the rough game he was promising. Sometimes she played it with her other fiancés, but Thora and Sigurd together weren’t enough to hold her down. Sue could, but not while taking at the same time. Goddess, the thought of it, held down, fucked into ecstasy, unable to resist or fight back. It could be terrifying, but not with someone she trusted. Someone she loved.

“Begging to be used?” Clara moaned, head thrown back as pleasure surged through her, “Begging for…you cum? Begging to…to be filled with…your… your-William!” Climax interrupted her words, her thoughts, her rhythm. Euphoria tingeing her skin pink and rose as her fingers dug into his broad shoulders. It took a moment, of heavy breathing and pleased sighs, before she was ready to fuck again. Still sensitive, as she rode his length.

“When you’re healed, you can do all that to me. But now? You are getting fucked, used by me. Used, because I wanted to cum on this cock. Used, because I want your seed filling me,” Clara confessed, demanded, crushing her lips to his. She broke the kiss with a low grunt, staring into his eyes, “So fucking cum in me!”

William might have wanted to resist, to drag out the act into the night. To keep his Goddess to himself just a bit longer. But, Goddess-dammit, the command in her voice was impossible to resist. “Clar…Clara!” He gasped out, his balls growing heavy for just a moment before he was completely rigid within her. Their shared bliss dripped down her thighs and pooled on his hips, as she sagged back down into bed. “Www…wow.”

“Time for rest,” Clara giggled, kissing him deeply, before laying beside him.

“Rest,” he agreed, pulling Clara close to him.
 
"This is a fucking terrible plan," Sigurd complained, throwing the ruach-forged helmet down. "I can barely move in this shit! How am I supposed to convince anyone I'm a demon when I'm shuffling around? Do I just shuffle menacingly?"

They were two days ride from Reeve's Bluff, and perhaps a week from the Ebon Keep, and already the taint of the demonlands was growing stronger. The air was laced with a tang of sulphur and iron, and the copse of trees they chose as a campsite whimpered softly and had thick-flowing blood instead of sap. Beyond the copse the Ravenous stirred and snuffled, their lust for flesh and murder kept at bay by the iron chains of Matthias' will.

"You're exaggerating," Willam pointed out, cleaning his hatched. He had been the one to discover the blood-sap, when he'd tried to trim a few branches for firewood. "You managed to wear it all day in the saddle, after all. And dismounted without help."

"That's another thing," Sigurd snarled. "How am I supposed to convince them I'm a demon, shuffling and riding a chestnut mate? Don't demons ride midnight-bkack stallions with eyes of flame, or the like? Oh, and more importantly, I don't fucking sound like that son of a bitch!"

"My war horse was chestnut, with a white sock on his front left foot," Matthias said, chewing on a strip of jerky. His recommendation had been to avoid hunting from here on out. "And blue eyes." He grinned. "I fed him oats steeped in demon blood to build his ztrength, and encased him in black armor. To keep up appearances."

"That is just..." Justine struggled for words. She wasn't eating right now. Her appetite had faded at the sight of the curious defects in the rabbit she'd shot for supper. "I don't know what to say."

"What's really bothering you?" Clara asked, techily. She'd been more and more on edge the deeper they traveled into the demonlands, staring around her with a visible disgust. Nobody commented on the way her eyes had become golden slits.

"I'm walking into the Ebon Keep to try to fake out the Lord of Lust, and you're asking me what's bothering me?" He sat down, clanking in his heavy armor. "I seriiusly don't see how I live through this, all right? The more I think about this, the more this sounds like a suicide mission."
 
Aurianna knew she wasn’t a patient woman. Hell, despite all of Matthias’ protests and arguments, she knew it was the reason they were here now, marching on Baath Me’el Ebon Fortress. To reclaim the soul Matthias sold to save her from her own impatience. And while she had come a long way from the teenaged aspirant who was hasty to receive her promotion, who was anxious to prove she was more of an adult that Matthias had seen her as then, she need she could still be rash. Hot headed.

And now, irritable. Each day her armor felt as if it were too tight, and each evening her muscles ached from wearing it all day. The trotting of her horse added to the nausea of her pregnancy, and it took all her concentration not to regurgitate the rations they were down to. Worst still, were the memories. Edging at her conscious mind, gnawing at her sanity. The memories of what transpired the first time she was brought before Baath Me’el. Of hopeless terror and helpless pain. Of confidence shattering torment. And now she had to listen to the blond bard bemoan his part of the plan.

“We are marching into a demon’s keep, the heart and height of their power, to murder a demon lord, a feat that has only been accomplished once so far. What part of this did you think would be easy?” Aurianna snarled.

“I didn’t think it’d be easy-“

“If any of this is to work, any of it at all, it starts with us getting in the door. That’s your job. That and staying alive are you only jobs.”

“And how do I stay alive in this case?”

“For Afodisia’s sake boy, you’re engaged to a priestess and paladins. Try having a fucking ounce of faith, for once in your life. That’s all any of us has, right now. Because, really, the only way any of us make it out alive is by her grace. Have faith, or turn back. Because we can’t afford doubts. Not now.”

Sigurd opened his mouth to argue further, but sighed instead. Perhaps he was too tired to run his mouth anymore. Perhaps Lady Ari’s words got through his thick skull. Perhaps she had been hard on him. There had been a thought to force Jeoram to don his armor, and play himself. A thought to let him find from salvation in service to the Goddess, once more. Whether or not he deserved it. But the plan was risky enough as it was, and there was no way Jeoram could be trusted. Not without demonstrating some remorse for his actions, some desire for deliverance. So the task fell to Sigurd, the faithless among them.

“Does anyone else want to complain about the plan?”
 
Matthias raised his hand at Aurianna's final question, smiling dryly at her look of irritated disbelief. "Yeah, I do. Of course, it doesn't matter much. Not if I want my soul back. But I really want to complain."

He looked around the little campsite, taking everyone in. "Look, here's the facts. The odds are bad. Terrible, even. But nit impossibke. We've got four Paladins, an Aspirant, a priestess, and a skald with some basic comprehension of the Primal Speech. Oh, and two of us killed the Demon-Dragon and one Demon Lord already."

Sigurd nodded, once. "Yeah. Just... got the jitters, I guess."

"I'd be worried if you didn't," Matthias laughed. "Now, lets figure a watch order and try to get some sleep. We've got long days ahead of us." He looked them all over again. "Two hours each. Justine, Clara, Willam, Sue. Tyat order."

"Who put you in charge?" Justine demanded.

"I did. Just now." He grinned. "Besides. Do you want your mages tongue-tied from fatigue, if we have to act?"

"Damnit. I hate it when you're right."

Matthias grinned wider. "That explains why you dislike me so much, doesn't it?"
 
The Ebon Fortress loomed in the distance, interrupting the uniform line of the horizon like a jagged blade stuck in wood. Aurianna stared at it with a stoic expression, pushing down the discomfort that riled in her gut. It wasn’t time to brood. She had done that, already. Instead she got to work.

It would be Clara, Matthias and herself, against Baath Me’el. She wished she didn’t have to use Clara against him, wished she didn’t have to bring her former apprentice before the demon lord. But Clara could fly, better and more consistently than she could with her divine prayers, and they might need that, if Baath Me’el takes to the air. Chains had been prepared, chipped and damaged enough so they just barely gave the semblance of retraining their victims. Once it was time to act, they could easily break their bonds.

Sigurd, in his guise of Jeoram, would carry their weapons. The spear and broadsword that had been gifted by the Oracle, as well as the sword Matthias had picked up from the temple. Additional offerings to the demon lord. He still wasn’t fond of the plan, but nothing better had presented itself, so he resigned himself to allow his fiancées to pray to Afodisia on his behalf. Aurianna offered her own prayers to the Lady of Love and War. Seeking Her guidance, Her strength, Her protection, for Aurianna herself, and the life she carried, and for Matthias as well.

The plan was set. Sigurd would present their weapons before the Demon Lord of Lust, while Matthias prepared the biggest spell he could muster. Once the spell completed, three things would happen: the remaining paladins, aspirant and priestess would emerge to lure demons out of the keep. The Ravenous would then, once more, be instructed to turn on the court demons, forcing them out of the great hall. From there the three prisoners and Sigurd would break their bonds and retrieve their weapons and do battle with Baath Me’el. All things that were simple enough to state, but would likely prove more difficult in execution.

“Are we ready?” Aurianna asked, after reciting the plan one last time, before the group would split up to perform their tasks.

“No, but I doubt I’ll ever truly be ready,” Sigurd snickered.
 
The demons on guard before the gates of the Ebon Keep watched with bored disinterest as a small troupe approached. In the lead, based on his armor, was the newest plaything of the Lord of Lust. Jeoram, the replacement for Matthias the Traitor. He led three figures by chains around their throats, and the Ravenous lumbered behind him. At the sight of those particular monstrous things, the guards shifted uneasily and hoped that Jeoram could command them as well as Matthias had. "Halt!" one of the guards barked as they drew within earshot. "Be recognized!"

Inside the heavy helm, Sigurd swallowed. Right. Showtime. "Dogs!" he laughed, trying hard for arrogance. "Be recognized? I am Jeoram! And for my own glory, and at the command of our Dark Lord, I have returned with gifts!" He jerked hard on the chain, hoping it wouldn't come loose. "Behold! I have captured Matthias the Traitor!"

The demons sniggered. "Well done, Sir Jeoram. No doubt our master will be pleased. But who are these others?"

Another swallow, because this felt like betrayal. Even if it was part of the plan. "Amusements and surprises for our lord. The Paladin Aurianna, who escaped the tender mercies of the court once! And the Paladin Clara, who aided Aurianna in slaying Hydranes and Yavost'cherev!" He squared his shoulders and turned his impassive helm on the trio of demons. "You will raise the gates, and announce me at once! No doubt, our Lord will have a special reception for them..."

One demon spread ruined, skeletal wings and took flight for the top of the gate. The other two stared at Clara and Aurianna with hungry eyes. "No doubt he will," one laughed, licking his lips and stroking his crotch. "I just hope they'll last long enough for me to have a turn."
 
It took all of Clara’s concentration not to transform into the dragon as they approached the gates. Goddess, was this what it was like for Lady Aurianna, all those months go? No, worse, far worse, because that wasn’t an elaborate ruse to gain access to the Keep. That was her actual capture, at the hands of someone she once trusted. All Clara could do was clench her first to keep that adrenaline under the surface. Ready to explode into action once the moment was right. But she school with the effort, and she could only hope it would be seen as fear.

The court was filled with demons as the three were lead in, Familiar jeers and whistles expanded into the empty spaces, until their weigh was a physical presence on the group. It was all Aurianna could do to draw on her strength born of the love for her Goddess, her husband, her child, to push past the terror of memories. Once more Baath Me’el sat before them, a satisfied smile lighting up his disturbingly attractive features.

“Jeoram!” He called into the hall, his voice soft as silk, and yet drowning out the chatter from his court. “I have heard your mission was a resounding success! Tell me about the gift you have brought to honor me.”

Sigurd took a deep breath, a breath that had been necessary as he had forgot to do so since the Demon Lord turned his gaze towards him. He positioned the three on their knees for Baath, backed turned to regain his composure from the Demon’s golden gaze. “The Traitor Matthias!” He boomed, retrieving the bastard sword from his back and sinking it into the stone in front of him. “The Paladin Aurianna!” Her golden spear driven before her. “And the Paladin Clara, Slayer of Hydranes and Yarost’cherev.” He gripped her blade, staring into her eyes to find the strength to continue this ploy.

“Bring her to me,” Baath declared. Sigurd froze; this wasn’t part of the plan. He was staring at Clara through the slits in the helm and she nodded but once, so subtly he half missed it, half imagined it. Gauntleted fingers fisted in her hair, dragging her up the steps leading to Baath Me’el throne. She was tossed on her knees before the demon lord, forced to look up into those hideous, golden eyes.

“Aren’t you something else?” Baath Me’el laughed, hands like velvet caressing her face. Clara let herself flinch at his touch, keeping up the façade of fear as fury raged through her. “I have just the thing for you.” With a snap, a bound, screaming demon was dragged to the forefront of the crowd. The four recognized her, her kind at least, a succubus with draconic features. One of the offspring of Mistress of Torment and her demon dragon consort. “I’m feeling generous, dear Clara. Pledge yourself to me, and this demon will grant you her power. She is my very favorite concubine, a position she would surely yield to you. Come, sit beside me, and you may watch want I am saving you from, as it is inflicted on Aurianna.”
 
Clara's nostrils flared as she inhaled, drinking in the scent of the dragon-blooded succubus.There was something fascinating about her, something far beyond the sensuality the demon exuded and unmarred by the fear in her unhuman eyes. "Your name," Clara demanded on a low voice as she took the demon's wrist and pulled her close. "What is it?"

"Aeshma," the succubus whispered, struggling helplessly against the Paladin's grip.

"Aeshma," Clara whispered. Gripping the demon's face, she pulled her even closer. Baath Me'el's laughter boomed out as succubus and Paladin pressed into a deep, hungry kiss.

"We. Are. Fucked," Matthias breathed, looking around wildly. It would take three words to complete the spell, words that could be spoken by himself or Sigurd. Calling the Ravenous would take four more. Perhaps, if he tore his chains away and sprang for...

Baath Me'el's laughter died. Matthias looked back to see the succubus staggering back from Clara, black smoke streaming from her mouth and nostrils and golden-white lighting swirling and pulsing along her veins. New laughter rang out, Clara's this time, wild and musical and utterly incongruous in the throne room of the Ebon Keep

"Foolish, rebellious child," Clara said in a voice that was her own and yet not. "Did you think to tempt me with one fallen from the Choir of Delights? With one in whom flows the attenuated blood of Chaos?"

The Lord of Lust stared at her, hate and horror mingled in his inhumanly perfect features "Who..." he roared,"who are you?"

Clara turned slightly, body shifting and stretching and flowing. The lesser demons of the court scattered as her sinuous, black-scaled form reared up and up, and even Baath Me'el's gave back a step as she looked down at him with eyes of burning gold in a serpentine face. "Clara Olgasdottor," she rumbled on a voice like a monstrous purr. "Clara Afodisia, the Avatar of Love and War. Surrender, my eldest and most willful of children. Cease your rebellion, and return to me."
 
Aurianna watched Clara carefully, refusing to give into the fear that Matthias espoused. There wasn’t a person in this room she trusted more than Clara, and that included her own husband. She trusted her once apprentice as much as the Goddess, and that trust didn’t falter now. “Faith, have faith.”

It didn’t take long for her faith to be reward, as Clara revealed a new form. A dragon, a full dragon. Not nearly as big as Verrier or Yarost’cherev, but massive, still. White alabaster scales with a golden sheen, and wings an intricate pattern like filigree.

Baath Me’el snickered, shaking his head with a look of pure disbelief on his face. “It seems fitting you might use this form, now. The form you used to whore yourself to our enemy.”

“I’ll not abide that disrespect, son of mine or not.”

“What about the disrespect of laying with the enemy! A dragon, that slew several gods and scores upon scores of us angels?”

“That was for peace! The would have never ended, otherwise. There’d be nothing left if not for that fragile peace.”

“This is the peace you bought with your affections. This is the peace you got for what you gave up. How does that taste?”

“It brings me no pleasure to end this in battle, but you leave me little choice.”

“Indeed. This has been a long time coming, Mother.”

Demons had already begun surrounding them, at least the ones that hadn’t fled at the first signs of Clara’s transformation. It wasn’t exactly to plan, but it was the best opportunity in any case. With a grunt Ari shattered the chains on her wrists, grabbing her spear before she was even to her feet. It would go better this time, right? Because she had her actual weapon, and armor and more allies this time around. Right? Everything seemed to happen in quick succession, another spell to hold back the onslaught of demons, the steel roar of Ravenous turning on the other demons. Still, even with everything going their way, they were surrounded by demons.

A problem that was soon remedied as Clara inhaled deeply, and swept the room with golden fire. A purifying fire, Ari knew. There were no burning bodies left in the wakes of the flames, just a cleansing that broadly removed the taint of corruption. Behind her, Baath Me’el rose, carried into the air by the six skeletal wings on his back. He raised his greatsword high above his head, ready to bury it into Clara’s flank.

Aurianna moved at this, jumping unto the dragon’s shoulder and sprinting along her back, leaping for the demon lord. She managed to grab his foot, jerking him down and off the mark to hit Clara. Baath kicked at her, while ascending higher and higher as she clung on desperately. She managed to make flying awkward for him, swing him off balance he so he struck the wall. Paladin and demon alike plummeted.
 
Matthias grabbed Sigurd, dragging them both back behind a nearby pillar as all hell - heaven? - broke loose. "Quit gaping, boy, and finish the spell! Haven't you ever seen your lover transform into a raging beast before?"

Sigurd shook his head, trying to clear it. Then he drew a breath, trying to remember the final words as Matthias hissed something in the noxious infernal tongue. "Satsuysena," he breathed, focusing on pronouncing the unfamiliar words. "Earthshaker..."



"It's been too long." Thora said for the tenth time. "We should have..."

Justine laid a hand on her shoulder. "It's been maybe ten minutes. Relax."

Sue concentrated on sharpening her blade. "The waitings getting to all of us, Thora. Try to relax."

Third threw herself on the ground and leaned back against Hope. The dire wolf shifted against her, stretching her massive head out hopefully. "I just feel... helpless," she grumbled, idly scratching Hope's ears.

The ground shook. Everyone looked up. Overhead, black storm clouds gathered as the ground shook again. Lightning lashed out, reading into the taloned towers of the Ebon Keep. Laughing, Justine nocked an arrow. "Waiting's over!"



Sigurd sagged with relief, gripping the column as exhaustion washed over him. The spell had taken more from him than he'd believed it would, but it was cast. And Matthias was no longer raping the air with his words. "They're coming?" he asked weakly.

"Yes," Matthias answered. "Now we just need to stay alive."

Sigurd glanced around, watching the chaos as Clara in the shape of a dragon and Aurianna battled Baath Me'el. Most of the other demons were holding back, unwilling to be caught in the crossfire. None, as yet, had given any notice to the two humans in the room. "That'll be... tough."

"Doable, though," Matthias laughed. "We just have to...". His words cut off in a welter of gore as a spear exploded through his chest. Sigurd stared in terror, looking up and up at the figure that lifted the former Paladin like a gigged fish.

"Two traitors," laughed Ahmoet, slashing his spear aside and sending Matthias flying in a spray of blood. He advanced towards Sigurd, lifting his gore-streaked spear to strike. "You can share his fate, Jeoram. Our Lord should never have trusted your kind."
 
Landing hard on the ground knocked the air from Aurianna’s lungs, but there wasn’t any time to catch her breath. Not as Baath Me’el recovered first and charged her. His sword clanged off her spear, breaking her guard. Another overhead chop was readied, madness in Baath Me’el’s inhuman eyes. She brought up her metal arm, to protect herself, but Clara had come to her aid, her heavy tail swiping at the demon lord.

Ari sprinted up at that, grabbing her spear to resume combat with the demon lord. Before she could pivot toward him, however, Matthias landed beside her, a gaping hole in his chest doing him no favors. Immediately, there was panic, terror, heartbreak. No, no , NO! Not today! Before the thought could finish forming in her head she was speaking the command words, releasing the demon within his soul. Running her wrist over the tip of her spear, she forced the bloody wound against his mouth. She couldn’t give him much; there wasn’t time. It would have to be enough, as she reared up, charging Ahmoet before he could do the same to Sigurd.

Lunging at her top speed, her spear found the demon’s immense thighs. She was just able to pull her spear back before he turned, a wide swing she somehow dodged. Their spears clashed, straining the paladin to match the demon’s power. Ari let herself falter, just a bit, throwing herself back as the demon completed his swing. She stepped on his shaft, pinning it down as her own weapon drove forward, sinking into a densely muscled arm. Dropping the trapped spear, Ahmoet backhanded her, sending her back several paces.

Her ears still rang with the impact as he advanced with his spear once more. It was by Afodisia’s grace that she had the presence of mind to bring up her metal arm to block him. Inside his space, she gripped her spear with two head, pushing the butt of it between his legs. She swept right, hooking behind his knee to get him off balance. Grunting, she managed to push him over, following up her assault with a few savage kicks to his knee. A twirl of his spear drove Ari back once more, Enough that the demon general was able to get to his feet.

Demon and paladin alike circled one another, looking for openings, weakness. Her assault was having an effect, as he lurched on unsteady legs. She wasn’t stronger, not in this case, but she was faster, and that would be her key to victory. She feinted left, drawing his strike. He thrust, a powerful strike that would have impaled her just as her husband had she not been expecting it. Instead she spun, diving with her spear at the last moment. She found his chest, pushing forward with the enhanced limb to punch her weapon all the way through. Black blood exploded from his lips as his lungs were torn asunder, part of the organ pulled free as she ripped her spear back.




Demons exploded from the keep, pursued by mindless Ravenous. Their retreat was cut short as golden shafts pierced the first few fiends. William and Sue moved to intercept, The terrified demons hardly stood a chance, pinched between the unstoppable force of the ravenous and the immovable Paladins. Any that did slip by the two were tackled by the dire wolf, only to have their heads smashed in by Thora and her war hammer.
 
Once again, Matthias thought numbly, I betray a trust.

He felt himself hit the floor as if at a great distance. Nothing hurt. Not the impact. Not the gaping wound in his chest that pumped blood onto the floor with every beat of his slowing heart. Not the awkward angle his left arm lay at. Nothing. He couldn't even find any pain for the fact that he was breaking his promise to Ari. Not through the spreading numbness and blackness. He'd cease to exist soon, and even that thought didn't bother him.

"Release the might from fleshly mire," he heard a distant voice call. Ari's? His own? "Boil the blood in heart of fire." Whoever it was, he could feel the numbness begin to receed. Pain came with it, serving as a lash to quicken his senses. "Bound to service, you must head the call. I smmon the demon Gouxal!"

Strength flooded through his frame as he rose, stretching and flexing. The throne room was in chaos. There was Sigurd, frantically parrying the blows of two giggling fiends. There was Ari, standing with dripping soear abive the twitching corpse of Ahmoet. There was Baath Me'el, evading a gout of white-hot flane from Clara's - or was it Afodisia's - draconic maw. He struck back with a lash of black flame, raising a burnt welt across Clara's ivory scales. "I learned to kill dragons long ages past, bitch!" the Demon Lord taunted. Then he spotted Matthias, and laughed. "Gouxal! My servant! Aid me now and you will sit at my right hand, second only to me in all my kingdom!"

He crouched, taking up a heavy sword a fallen demon had cast aside in its death throes. The ash-colored blade smoked as it burned cherry red and then exploded into dark orange flames. "Second only to you?" he asked, licking his lips and staring at Auriana with blood-red eyes. "All that I desire will be mine?"

Baath Me'el evaded another gout of flames, but this time it had been a feint. Clara's tail lashed out, catching the Demon Lord in the chest and hurling him the length of the throne room. "Yes!" Baath Me'el roared out as he struck the wall. "All you ask, subject only to my commands!"

Matthias stared at the burning blade in his hand, then leered at Ari with hungry eyes. "As you wish," he agreed, leaping to the attack.



Aeshima writhed and screamed as the golden flames consumed her. It was pain, pain far worse than anything her Lord and Master had seen fit to inflict on her. Pain far worse than anything she had exoeriencd when she had consumed the soul of Fyraxes, the golden wurm from which she had stolen the draconic power that strengthened her own. The last time she had experienced pain like this, she had fallen from the Heavens...

And then it was gone. She gasped, feeling light-headed as she sat up. Light-headed and... peaceful. Even in the midst of the chaos of battle that swirled around her. "What... what happened..?"

I happened.

Aeshima flinched at the voice of the goddess she once served.

Once? Afodisia's laughter rang out. You are My servant, one of My Muses. A little thing like treachery and betrayal does not excuse you from My service.

"Then... then what..."

I have not forgiven you. Not yet. But you will take up your duties once more, Aeshima. There is a mortal amongst us. Inspire him.



Sigurd gave ground, grateful once more for the heavy armor he'd had to wear. It was the only thing that had kept him from being cut to ribbons by the demons. He was a decent swordsman, but no match for their infernal strength. And soon, at the rate he was tiring, it wouldn't be enough.

Feint high. Cut at his middle. Then stab the one to the left as you do. He acted on it without question, and the pig-faced demon with a barbed axe stared at the blade in its heart in shock, before collapsing.

Now sing. Sing, and let me guide you.

He glanced around, then saw the draconic succubus perched at the foot of the throne. She looked subtly different. Erotic, yes. But... peaceful. Her eyes met his, and she smiled and winked.

"Axes flash, broadswords swing," Sigurd sang, hewing at his opponent with renewed strength. "Shining armor's piercing ring. Horses run with polished shield." The demon went down, and he lept over it to attack another that was heading for Clara. "Fight those bastards till they yield!"




Matthias shot past Aurianna at a dead run, leaping up and kicking off a squalling vulture thing to hurl himself the length of the throne room. His blade flared as he swung it with both hands, and Baath Me'el's sword of tarnished celestial steel shivered under the force of the blow. "Traitor!" the Demon Lird roared.

"Traitor?" Matthias laughed, swinging again. "No, my lord. For once I remain true to my oaths! I am here to help you!"

Baath Me'el parried again. "And what sort of aid is this?"

"Redemption, my Lord!" Matthias laughed. "A path to return to the Heavens!"
 
There was a moment of breathlessness as Mathias turned toward her with crimson eyes like blood. Leering at her, as he had before. It would not be first (or second) time he had turned on here when the demon took control. Not the first time he betrayed her when she needed him. He was called Matthias the Traitor for good reason, after all.

“Matthias…” she called, pushing down her doubts. He was still her husband, the same husband who had threatened to assault her on their wedding day, the same husband who banished himself and risked his life to prevent himself from going through with it. The same man who had ripped apart men who had threatened to rape and murder her. Which was he now? The one who could control the demon, or the who didn’t care to?

Instead he ran past her, engaging the demon lord. Yes, he was still her Matthias. A few of Baath’s generals tried to come to his aid, as demon and dragon fought him, but they had to get through Ari first, and clearly that was not going to happen. “Clara, I could use form of the holy fire here!” The dragon turned her head towards Ari, breathing a low stream over the golden spear. Brilliant energy glowed from the weapon, invigorated by holy, cleansing fire.

Her weapon punctured straight through the first, stopping the charge midstride. The balor was still standing as she ripped her spear back, it’s death not catching up to it until the marillith beside him was beheaded. The throne room bled as the assault continued, Sigurd and Aurianna decimating the court, while Clara and Matthias fought with Baath Me’el.

Outside the keep it was much the same. Ravenous continued their endless violence against the fleeing fiends. Some were cut down by the group, others dispersed into the badlands, too spread out to be worth pursuing. They certainly had enough to deal with, in the moment.

Within, the numbers dwindled, and Sigurd’s singing strengthened his resolve. Behind, Ari heard the hideous howl of agony from the Dragon. From Clara, who despite her current form, was very much a teen aged girl. Turning, she caught sight of the injury, Clara’s long ivory tail nearly cleaved off as she went for a tail swipe. Baath would have been on the offensive, capitalizing on her pain if not for Matthias, pulling the elder demon’s attention back to him.

Clara staggered back, protecting the wounded appendage. Her form seemed to collapse into herself, shrinking and shifting until her figure was human-like once more. She backed up several steps as she reacquainted with her body, stumbling and falling, if not for Aurianna. Channeling the goddess in dragon form had really taken a tool on her. “Mistress…” She whispered, voice parched.

“Shh, you’ve done enough. Rest,” Ari insisted, helping her to a still upright pillar. Sigurd had things handled, for the moment, and Clara would recover quickly enough, she knew. So Ari turned her attention on Baath Me’el. The Lord of Lust was pushing Matthias back, using his wings to reinforce his blows. Or he was, until she severed one from his back, her spear still blazing with cleansing flame. Baath scream in anguish, turning on her with fury dancing in his eyes. He covered the distance between them, slashing madly, wildly. Blows she could just deflect, unable to find an opening in his strikes.
 
Was this how it felt to be a Paladin, Sigurd wondered. This feeling of strength, of inexhaustible vitality? Because ever since he'd heard the call to sing, the armor he wore and the blade he wielded didn't feel heavy. The fatigue and fear had drained away, replaced by a confidence that didn't segue into overconfidence.

It wasn't enough to make him want to worship something, mind. It it came close.

"Guard your women and children well," he sang, carving a bloody path towards his injured fiancée. "Send these bastards back to hell."

"I..." Clara said through gritted teeth, drawing her mother's sword with a shaky hand. "I don't... need... guarding..."

"Shaddup and let me take care of you for once," Sigurd laughed, splitting the skull of a leporous, toad-bodied thing. "We'll teach them the ways of war, they won't come here any more-"

A heavy mace blow on his shield drove him to his knees, and a second sprawled him on his back. Something made of charred bone and burning meat stood over him, raising a mace. As he groped for his sword, a blade tore through its chest and hurled it aside.

"Use your shield," Clara sang reprovingly, laughing a little, "and use your head."

"Right, right," Sigurd grumbled, grabbing the hilt and climbing to his feet. "I got you."

"Nope," Clara laughed again. "That's after we've won!"



Matthias howled in rage and pain as he ducked Baath Me'el's sword stroke, only to have a bony wing tear into his shoulder. The howl transformed into a snarl, and he spat a black, bloody gobbet of flame at the Demon Lord. Baath Me'el parried it with contemptuous ease. "Filth. What do you hope to achieve?" A ring glittered on his inhumanly perfect hand. "I still hold your soul."

Matthias drove in at him, a wild flurry of hammer blows that drove the Demon Lord back. "Redemption," he snarled. "A path back."

The Demon Lord slashed back, scoring a shallow cut along the ribs that put Matthias off balance. Before he could recover, a blow from his skeletal wings knocked the fallen Paladin down. Before he could press his advantage, though, a burning spear severed one of his charred wings.

"Bitch!" Baath Me'el roared, turning on Aurianna. A blow from his sword knocked her spear shaft aside, and he swung hard at her skull. "The torments you suffered before will seem pleasures, compared to how I will use you! I will flay your emotions, and violate your soul!"

He hacked again, missing by inches and cleaving deep into the basalt floor. Black stone flew as he tore it free. "Your hopes, your dreams, your child. All of them, mine!" He lifted his hand. "Watch!"

The glittering ring on his hand blackened and dulled, then dissolved into the demon's skin. As it did, Matthias writhed and screamed in mortal agony. Then it stopped, and he rose to his feet. Great curved horns sprouted from a hairless skull, and great leathery wings rise from a ridged, scaled back. His gait was stooped and hunched, and talons scraped on the stone floor as he walked. Only his face remained unchanged, except for the lack of intelligence in his blood red eyes and the bestial hunger on his slack-jawed face.

"All that remained of your lover," Baath Me'el sneered. "Destroyed. What will you fight for now, I wonder?"
 
Matthias…? No, it wasn’t the time to mourn. Not in combat. If her Matthias was…It didn’t matter. Not until the battle was over. A lesson that had been reinforced over a decade of battling demons, of watching friends and loved ones fall in battle. If she stopped to mourn, she’d fall too.

“There was something my father taught me, before he turned my training over to Matthias,” Ari started, ducking under a high blow, and thrusting her spear into his thigh. It pulled muscles as it tore away, as she jumped back to avoid the retaliation.

“Your Father? The fallen Lord Commander, if I understand correctly?” Baath Me’el laughed, “Another man who died for you? Oh, you will be much better at that, once I am done with you!” He swung hard from the left, blade impacting off her upper arm. She could feel the hairline fractures traveling through the bone, but while she bathed in the glory of her Goddess, there was no pain.

“He told me that the most dangerous opponent in the world is a woman without hope.” She continued, not swaying her attention from the task at hand. Another wing slashed at her, but she was able to intercept it, cleaving it from his spine.

“So you see it!” The demon lord mocked, circling around her. Another blow landing on her ribs, from behind, making breathing difficult. “There is no hope! I will have everything you are and possess. I will let you birth your bastard, to feast on it as you watch! I will let you birth a hundred bastards, to send against your entire order!"

“Because the only thing she has to live for is killing you."Her spear drove past his guard, sinking deep into into his chest. He coughed up blood as his golden eyes met hers and cleansing flames consumed him. He tried to grab her spear, to pull it from his chest, but Ari locked her arms in place, let the Goddess work through her, a conduit for divine energy that could vanquish the demonic taint of rebellion.

Once she had poured every ounce of Afodisia's love and grace into purifying Baath Me'el, all the pain came rushing to the forefront. The ache her broken arm, the throb of cracked and bruised ribs, the agony of widowhood. Matthias, everything had been Matthias, her husband, was gone. Destroyed. Had his soul gone home? Or was it just the nothingness he had once predicted? All that remained was the shambling hulk that had been his demon, and the impression of her love's face.

"No!" she raged. It wasn't fair! How could they come so far, live through so much hell and fall short right in the end? Still, she had a promise to keep, a promise she recalled as a golden scar on his chest caught the light. One last promise, to honor the memory of the man she loves. Wielding the same spear that had caused the injury, she thrust forth, broken arm and broken heart protesting the motion.
 
Clara and Sigurd stood at two points of a triangle, one of the stone pillars serving as the third point, defending each other and the Muse who huddled at the center. Clara had insisted, when she'd seen Aeshma frantically using Baath Me'el's throne as a shield, and Sigurd hadn't argued. They'd pulled her to safety, then stood firm as a wave of demons broke against them. When Sigurd's song faltered under the demands of fighting, Aeshma took it up.

Suddenly, the chaos calmed itself. No more demons rushed to the slaughter, and Clara took the opportunity to wipe gore from her face. Only now did she notice the view of tiny wounds that covered her bare arms. "What... what happened?"

"Look!" Sigurd hissed.

She looked. Aurianna stood over a blackened, smoking husk. Baath Me'el, she realized. But her mentor didn't look glad. She looked... crumpled. Broken. There was agony in her stance as she stared at the demonic for that circled her, snarling and snapping.

Then she realized what the demon was, and her heart broke. "Goddess," she gasped, the word half a sob. "No!"

"That's...". Sigurd choked on his words. "Matthias?"

And then, Aurianna stepped forward and drove her spear into the heart of the thing that had once been her husband. Time seemed to stop, as if the universe itself were holding its breath. Then, slowly, the demonic carcass slid down the shaft and struck the floor.

Clara went to her knees, numbly feeling her blade slip from her fingers. "No," she whispered. "It shouldn't be like this." Life wasn't fair, she knew that. And the stories she'd heard of princes and queens and true love were just that, she knew. Stories. But the injustice of this. Of seeing her mentor kill the thing her husband had become...

"No..."

[he]

Sigurd was in shock. He should comfort Clara, he knew. Or try to comfort Lady Aurianna. But... what did you say to this? What could you say? Even the inspiration of the Muse failed before...

Wait.

As he watched, Matthias' body... twitched. Then light began to stream from the wound in his chest, a blinding hold-white light that quickly became unbearable. Sigurd stared anyway, purple and black blotches searing his vision. Then it was gone, as quick as it had come.

"I guess we won, then??"

The voice was Matthias, and yet not. It was like the demon that he'd imprisoned, and yet not. Sigurd blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision. Before him stood... Matthias. Matthias, with skin like polished marble, and eyes like liquid gold, and great feathered wings the color of lightning. He stared at his hands for a moment, turning them back and forth as if unable to accept what he was seeing. Suddenly, with a whoop of joy, he caught Aurianna up and spun her into a hug.

"We did it! You did it!"
 
Her eyes had been blinded by tears, leaving her to rely solely on the pressure of Flesh resisting before her spear sunk into its chest. “Matthias!” She wailed, shuddering as his body slid off her weapon and landed with a dull thud. With two hands gripping the shaft, she pierced the marble floor of the throne throne, clinging in an effort to remain standing. It was too much, too much heart ache to bear. “Matthias…” she managed to rasp once more, between gasping sobs.

The blinding light distracted her a bit, from her bereavement. Light coming off his body, where the spear had punched through. She dare not hope, tried not to hope, tried not to believe a miracle was possible now, in this moment. Tried not to pray for a miracle, another miracle, given all they had survived and accomplished this day. But, despite not pleading with the Goddess to return her love to her, Afodisia did just that.

"I guess we won, then??"

“Matth…Matthias?” She whispered, stuttered, disbelieving her eyes. He was…an angel? Or something like that? She ran to him, straining her injured arm around his neck as he spun her. Clinging to him, feeling his body against hers, feeling wings start where there was just muscle before. He was real, and alive, and hers. “How…?” She started, before shaking her head. It didn’t matter. She just squeezed him again, confirming his existing, thanking the Goddess for her good fortune.

“Um, Mistress, I am so happy for you, but maybe we can finish celebrating somewhere safer?” Clara piped up, backing towards them as out of control Ravenous closed in on them. On the outside perimeter of the Ravenous were Justine Sue William and Thora, as well as Hope, trying to reunite with their allies, and hold back the tide of vicious, mindless demons.

“There!” Aurianna pointed, towards a tower entrance on the north side of the court hall. “The Ravenous cannot fit within the stairs!” Relying on her good arm, she cut a path through the fiends, letting her allies race up the stairs before she joined them, just missed by a scaly grip clawing at her. When they reached the top, and discovered the same thing she had when Matthias and she had first made their escape, all eyes were on her.

“What now?” Justine asked scanning the horizon and finding no means of escape. Aurianna turned to Clara.

“Think you can call upon the dragon once more?”

“Doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice now, does it?”

“Don’t need to go far, just away.”
 
Clara eyed the distance, trying go find another way. Becoming a dragon had been intoxicating. Terrifying. A surrender of control as she became something both more and less than herself. She had ti do it, she jnew. But she didn't want to. And as she agonized, a warm hand rested on her shoulder. "You can do it, mistress."

It was Aeshma. The succubus she'd transformed. "And... you need to."

Nodding, Clara reached within herself and found the dragon. She released it slightly, allowing great leathery wings to grow from her back. Flapping and stretching them, she grabbed Sigurd and pulled him close. "Hold on," she growled. Then she hurled herself from the roof.



Matthias took Aurianna's hand, watching the succubus follow Clara from the roof. Two pairs of leathery wings spread, catching the air as they caught thermals and rose in circling gyres over the Ebon Keep. "Our turn," he said, taking her in his arms.

His wings opened, unfurling like sheet lightning as he rose effortlessly into the air. A hundred feet, then two hundred, before he finally leveled off and headed for the small knot of their friends. The Ravenos milled about, dispersing at a singke word of command spoken not in the debased and defiled tongue of Hell, but in the uncorrupted form spoken in the Heavens. Unabke to resist the irder or withstand the tones, the Ravenous scattered.

Justine and the others stared as the two landed befire them, then rushed to catch Clara and Sigurd as she staggered into an exhausted geap near them. Aeshma they regarded warily, and Thora's eyes narrowed as the Muse took cover behind Sigurd's back. "So," Justine finally said as she and Willam helped Clara sit down. "I guess we won?"
 
Aurianna clung to Matthias as he ascended into air, more out of instinct as the heights grew dizzying than out of true fear, but there still lingering disbelief. So she stared at him, partially to avoid looking down, mostly in grateful awe. So lost in gratitude that touching the ground again was a shock.

"So, I guess we won?" Justine’s voice cut through her dreamlike exultation. Aurianna just laughed in disbelief, unable to believe she could be so happy after having been so heartbroken and hopeless before.

“Yeah, we…we won. We won! It’s over, it’s all over. Baath Me’el stain upon this land is banished,” Ari explained, still unable to completely take hands off her husband, even as she turned to the rest of the group.

“So what happened?” Sue asked, obviously referring to Matthias.

“It was, well, chaos. But Clara was incredible, truly a vision of Afodisia herself! We would have never succeeded with her! And Sigurd and Aeshma, taking up the fight, and everything went wrong, and yet we were still able to pull through and…” Ari found herself gushing, finally letting herself get caught up in the excitement and pride of their victory.

“Okay, but why is he an angel now?” William asked, still a bit dumbstruck by everything “Wait, are you an angel now? And since when can you turn into a dragon?!” He turned to Clara now, who was still catching her breath and recovering from her second transformation of the day. She raised her hand to begin explaining, before putting it down again, to continue catching her breath.

“We have time, time for answers, whatever answers there are to be had. For now though, it’s time to go home. We’ve earned this,” Aurianna declared, once more turning to her husband, “We deserve this.”




Already on the trip back to the Seraphim Wall, the land had begun healing. Returning to nature, in vibrancy and recovery. The twisted, gnarled mockeries of life receding and decaying, leaving room for new growth, a memory of the how the land once was. It would be another generation past, before things would be as they were, but now that the cancer that was the Lord of lust had been excised from the land, there was a chance to new life to spring and stir.

The weeks they took returning went by so much faster than the trip to the Ebon Keep. Not that there wasn’t any danger, but without their liege lord, the demons they did encounter folded under the might of their paladins. The journey to the Ebon keep had been filled with nervous energy and cautious optism; the journey back was filled with pride and elation and victory. A month since setting off to complete Matthias’ atonement quest, the group returned, one demon lord destroyed, and one demon traitor redeemed. Together, the group rode the lift to the top of the wall, a massive assemblage already waiting for them there.

Cassi and Justine raced for each other, a familiar sight of love and relief as the two women embraced. Lady Commander Rielle to congratulate the group on their accomplishment, and Edwin there to welcome his son home, and Helena there to welcome her daughter, and friends and allies to welcome the rest.

“I am guess you all have one hell of a story to tell?” Rielle mused, Pulling both Aurianna and Matthias in a hug. Ari laughed.

“Sigurd! I do believe this is your area of expertise!”
 
“I am guess you all have one hell of a story to tell?” Rielle mused, pulling both Aurianna and Matthias in a hug. Ari laughed.

“Sigurd! I do believe this is your area of expertise!"

Face creased in concentration, Sigurd dismounted and unstrapped his harp from his horse. Different tunes and rhyme schemes ran through his mind as he checked the tuning. Smiling at Clara and winking at Thora, he plucked a chord. Satisfied, he began to play a gently expressive

"We won, we won," he sang, "Baath Me'el's had his final fling. We won, we won, and Matthias grew some wings."

He silenced the strings. Everyone stared at him expectantly. The silence grew.

"That's... it?" Rielle asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"Hey," Sigurd declared with a shit-eating grin, "they say brevity is the soul of wit."

Everyone stared at him, and then Clara and Thora tackled him. "Idiot!" Thora growled as they crashed to the ground. "When did you develop wit?" Clara added.

"I regret nothing!" Sigurd laughed from beneath the two women. "Muse! Aid me!"

Aeshma rolled her eyes. "No. I think you've had enough inspiration for one day."

Rielle shook her head. "Seriously now," she asked. "What happened."

"It's a long, long story," Matthias assured her. "And I'm not entirely certain I understand all of it myself."

"Well, the two of you can come back to my chambers and tell it," Rielle decided, draping one arm around Ari's shoulder and the other around Matthias'. "C'mon. Let the kids have their fun."



"So all of that makes sense," Rielle said thoughtfully as the two finished their tale. "Except... what happened to you? How did you survive..."

"...having my soul devoured?" Matthias finished, pouring himself another glass of wine.

"Exactly." She looked at Ari, and then the Oracle, and then her husband to see if they had anything to add.

"Here's what I think happened," Matthias said, taking a sip.

"The Goddess intervened," stared the Oracle.

"Perhaps," Matthias stared, deadpan. Everyone else chuckled, and she made a distinctly irreverent gesture at him. "I didn't lie to Jeoram. The demon in him - the one on me as well - is one of the Ravenous. It consumes you, slowly. Eating and absorbing your memories and personality. It's why Gouxal was something like me, when we were separated."""

He took another drink. "So, when my soul was consumed, I was utterly fucked. Except that Baath Me'el miscalculated. See, Gouxal was more like me than he realized - and the Goddess' promise extended to us both."

Chuckling, he sipped his wine. "So She had a demon without a mind, and a mind without a soul, and both of them had found - it seems - redemption. So, She made us one."

"And now you're an angel," Rielle said.

""Angel" just means "messenger", Rie," Matthias corrected. "I'm some sort of celestial being, whatever the Ravenous were before they fell, but with the mind of a mortal man."

"That seems like a great deal of power," Edwin said carefully. "And responsibility."

Matthias shrugged. "And being a Paladin isn't? We earn the right to that power every day, Edwin."

"Touché," Edwin laughed., raising his glass in a salute. "Touché."
 
“If there is nothing else, Lady Commander, I need to rip this man’s clothes off. In celebration of our victory, of course,” Aurianna declared, refusing to feel any shame right now. She wrapped her steel arm arounf his waist and leaned against him, still craving his warmth against her.

“I’d imagine,” Riel;le said, laughing and shaking her head, “And I will give you leave to do just that, after I discuss one last item of business with you, Knight Commander Aurianna.”

“Knight Commander?” Ari repeated, eyes wide, “I’m honored, Rielle, truly I am I just…Knight Commander of what? In my condition, I…”

Rielle waved her hand, “I am aware of your condition, which is why I think this will be the perfect fit. It is, after all, your father’s legacy. His last act as Lord Commander was to establish a temple of Afodisia in Monsford. I think you should lead it.”

“Lead the temple of Afodisia in Monsford? Really?” Ari asked, clearly overwhelmed with the prospect

“It will be far smaller than our institution here. Perhaps 50 or so paladins at its largest. And it’s going to take a few years to get underway. For the most part, over the next five years, your duties will be largely administrative. Which I think would rather suit you, for now?”

“And, my father set this up?” Ari asked, still reeling from the news.

“Yes, apparently he spoke with Monsford Mayor Ingrud, about creating this satellite site. I suspect he wanted an excuse to visit Monsford often. To…visit you and his grandchild.” Rielle gave her a sympathetic look, and she just nodded. “Still, I think it is a great idea, and would like to move forward on this. You’ve proven again and again to be a capable leader, and I trust that you will make us all, and your father, very proud. I mean, you already have.”

“Well, I certainly can’t say no after that,” Ari laughed, brushing her head back.

“I know. That’s why I said it,” Rielle teased. Laughter filled the room.

“Well, I am going to need some help running it,” She admitted, turning toward her husband. “Time for that responsibility, to go with your newfound power.”
 
"Just one little problem with that," Matthias said as the two women laughed. "What about the Godslayer? Mayor Ingrud may be in favor of this scheme, but Verrier..?" He frowned. "He's known as 'the Godslayer' for a good reason. Legends claim he's personally slain between six and twelve gods, and Clara has described seeing at least three skulls that he claimed were trophies of his kills. What will keep him from destroying Monsford entirely, if we build a temple there?"

"Clara," Rielle said.

"Yes, I know that he believe her to be an avatar of Afodisia - and I can't help but agree, after the past few weeks - but..." Matthias gestured. "It is one thing to claim a bride, and another to allow a small army of her footsoldiers to live in your domain. Particularly when you are at war with the rest of your bride's family." He thought about that for a moment. "This metaphor is getting particularly unwieldy, isn't it?"

"Yes," Rielle laughed. "So get to the point already. What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that before my wife gets used to the title of Knight-Commander, maybe we should check with Verrier? Make certain that her promotion isn't going to be to the rank of Knight-Commander of Ash and Bleached Bone?" With a faintly apologetic smile, he reached out and took her hand. "We've already accomplished the impossible more times than seems plausible. I'd rather not have to fight the Godslayer as well."
 
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