A Gift of the Goddess

A desperate man fled down a side street stumbling as he ran.

"Stop!" a harsh voice commanded, "you have committed acts of heresy against the Empire. You will surrender yourself to the Inquisitorial Branch, wretched Vampire!"

The man kept running.

Surrender?

Insanity, the Inquisitorial Branch AT BEST, tolerated magic and those like himself considered rogue mages. Their definition of magical abuse was shockingly flexible. and none were more likely to judge him for his "abuses" than the relentless predator chasing him.

He turned and summoned whatever power he had left

"Baal awaits thee, Baal embraces thee, none escapes the God of Death!"

He hurled a fiery blast that should have incinerated his pursuer leaving nothing behind but bone fragments and blacked ash, instead the fire bolt glanced harmlessly off the inquisitor's enchanted cloak and armor.

"Your magic won't work on me, Cultist!" His hunter shouted.

The fleeing mage caught sight of several homeless men. Taking the last vestige of the power he'd most recently stolen, he projected it towards them.

The men stumbled beneath the weight of his mental assault and slowly like automatons, lurched towards the Inquisitor raising glass bottles and improvised clubs.

"Stand down citizens!" The woman yelled.

They circled her, swinging their weapons and trying to grab at her.

The fleeing mage smiled and turned around intending to retreat.

The woman cursing angrily, snatched off her bejeweled gloves.

Suddenly the mage felt a cloud of delicious power rise and swell filling the alley. A cloud of dark power with the Inquisitor at its epicenter. His sex stiffened even as his mouth started to water. She had magic, not divine magic but dark magic, demonic magic, but powerful nevertheless and seductive to his power addicted mind and the ever-hungering black hole that was his soul.

"You face an officer of the INQUISITORS wretches," the woman snarled, "you are interfering in my pursuit and you will be PUNISHED!"

It wasn't just WHAT she said, it was as if the words were echoing inside one's own mind and body.

The mage felt the power reach him. He felt his will drained away. It felt like a warm tight fist had grabbed him by his sex and with every word torturously stroked him in a fashion guaranteed to produce pleasure and submission to that pleasure in equal measure.

The men dropped to the alley floor. Some of them were already darkening their pants with spontaneous and uncontrolled urination and ejaculation.

An Aura of Submission, an infamous area of effect spell. Certain demons possessed the power in its basic form but high level creatures like Cyndia the Demon General or the so-called Queen of Succubi Malcanthet, could use its most powerful variant. Well demons -- and one other. Which meant his pursuer could only be one person.

Supposedly the only human to learn how to harness and control demonic magical power enough to even use the spell, nevermind master the ability to deploy it tactically.

The Dark Mage's Nightmare, Donatella Fairfax.

The warlock turned and brandished a blade, if he got lucky, scored a direct cut; maybe the power-up would be enough to escape.

He lunged towards the Inquisitor whose eyes glowed hot with power.

"You'd dare attack me?" she snarled, "SURRENDER YOURSELF TO THE EMPEROR'S DIVINE WILL!"

The warlock killer felt strength draining away, like his body was no longer completely his own. He tried to resist and felt his manhood shrivel at the thought of disobedience.

"SURRENDER YOURSELF TO MY WILL!"

Even as he was terrified of the Inquisitor, his body desperately desired to debase itself for her amusement, his trousers filling with pre-cum at the thought.

Her involvement meant he was fucked. If he was lucky he'd die quickly, of course if he had an abundance of good luck, he wouldn't be pursued by the single-minded mage hunter.

Fairfax raised a weapon and a crossbow bolt stabbed into the warlock's body. He felt the chilling effect that indicated his mana pool had been forcibly cut off.

The man cried out and crumpled to the ground. Reflexively he reached for the bolt but it's serrated head insured it wouldn't be easily removed.

The Inquisitor approached him carefully, pulling her gloves back on but removing her wide brimmed hat. Fairfax was a study in contrasts. Attractive to be sure yet with a harsh and unforgiving body language that invited the idea she was noble or at least a woman around whom proper respect and deportment was essential. It drove thoughts of love far from you with only a cold pitiless glance. She still had the snow-white harshly bobbed haircut and fleur-de-lis tattoo of The Sisters of Battle.

"Xeres Velos," clearly Fairfax knew his name, "You've committed acts of heresy, magical abuse and murder you will submit yourself for judgment and if found guilty you'll be punished,-- your sentence will be death."

"Who do you think you're kidding, Fairfax? IF I'm found guilty?" Xeres sneered, "as if The Sisterhood's witch hunters don't summarily judge AND execute any and all magics regardless of their actual crimes."

The Inquisitor placed a booted foot on his injured shoulder, "Are you denying your crimes HERETIC?" Fairfax hissed, "I have no doubt we can add utterance of a falsehood to the list of charges against you."

"Crimes? I did you a favor killing those others they were probably dark mages, ...isn't that always the excuse the Inquisition uses."

"You consumed their souls, killing them."

"Only those that deserved it."

"In your sick twisted mind!"

"The touch of divinity adds spice to the meat," the Cultist boasted, "Besides everyone knows you inquisitors have done worse!"

"Do not presume to compare your base and revolting animal urges with actions of The Order Heretical's Inquisitorial Branch," Fairfax hissed, "we seek to protect the Emperor's faithful and chosen against the Heretical and the shadow, while you...?"

Her disgust and repulsion seeped out in every venomous word.

"You are a parasite feeding off those unfortunate enough to cross your path."

Had there been anyone coherent watching them, perhaps they'd have noticed this last phrase wasn't so much directed at the mage as it was a highly reflective puddle in the alley.

"I'm not the only one!" Xeres Velos sneered.

"Don't lie to me, worm," Fairfax growled, "what perverse deeds have you done?"

"I wasn't the first to figure out sucking mages dry grants strength and power. I've heard tales of the experiments performed by the Order of Heretical Investigation."

"Whatever secrets you know or think you know; the interrogators will tear them out of you." Fairfax snarled.

She hauled the man to his feet, shoving him forward.

She channeled mana through the jewel set in a bracelet around her wrist.

"Inquisitor Fairfax reporting," she announced into the gem, "our death cultist killer has been apprehended. I'm returning him to headquarters for interrogation and assessment."

She shoved Xeres forward none-too-gently.

"Understood Inquisitor!" a voice answered, "you'll be met in the field and your prisoner will be taken safely into custody."

"There was a minor fracas involving bewitched civilians. I'll need them detained for assessment of magical influence and charged with obstruction of an inquisitor's duties."

"Obstruction carries an automatic sentence of death -- Inquisitor." The voice seemed hesitant.

"I am aware," Fairfax replied curtly, "the death mark is for repeat offenders should there be any, if these are first time offenders, hard labor at an Imperial work camp should suffice to cure them of their licentiousness and slothful indulgence."

"Understood, a request was made that you hold in the area as a superior is coming out to meet you."

"Negative! My prisoner has indicated he has knowledge there's another mage killer out here. I must continue my search."

"You were asked for, by name."

"Which idiot at headquarters gave permission for some random person to delay an inquisitor's duties?"

"It was me!" A familiar voice announced loudly.

A woman stepped out of the shadows, her ornate armor and snow-white bowl-cut hair save for a single strand running down the left side of her face which actually complimented the fleur-de-lis tattooed on her cheek marked her as another member of the Sisters of Battle.

"Abbess-Superior Yelena!" Xeres Velos snorted, "so The Sisterhood's finest has come to deal with little old me; that proves how weak and broken your system truly is."

"Silence worm," Fairfax growled, striking Velos in the face, her strike making his lip bleed, "you'll keep a civil tongue in your head while you still have a head to keep it in."

"Donatella, efficient and brutal as always. Your time with the Inquisition serves you well."

"Abbess, I'm surprised to see you so far from The Imperial Palace or our Conclave,"

"Urgent matters require a meeting," Yelena replied, before glancing at her prisoner, "...preferably unobserved."

"How delicious the Inquisitorial Mad Dog conspiring with the Head of the Imperial Sword Bitches."

Yelena didn't hesitate, a bejeweled mace appeared as if by magic to lash through the air to hit him in his stomach driving the breath from Velos' lungs before striking him repeatedly, beating him into unconsciousness.

Fairfax nodded, "Good to see you haven't gotten soft holding Emperor Frederick's hand or wiping Prince Lawrence's ass."

"Indeed there's days I wish I could do that to the Imperial Prince-Regent."

"Don't you mean his Imperial-Fecklessness," Fairfax snorted, "You're Abbess-Superior of The Sisterhood of Battle, isn't there someone else who can wipe the Prince's nose."

"There was, she's dead," Yelena replied, "hence the necessity of-- as you so delicately refer to it-- holding the Emperor's hand."

Fairfax grimaced, "I miss Lydia too. I grieve with the entire city, I wish every day she hadn't risked herself to rescue me," she replied, "I wish that my Eve and Kristina had actually PROTECTED her like I ordered them to do."

"The Queen-Consort decided to rescue you from Cyndia's nest, they could either accompany her or try to forcibly restrain her." Yelena chuckled, "I think we BOTH know how that last scenario would've played out."

"It was Eve and Kristina, if anyone could have stopped her from following her misguided sentiment to her own death it was those two -- instead..."

"Instead their intervention likely saved your sanity and actually did save your life," Yelena replied, "a feat which they accomplished at great personal cost."

"As far as I'm concerned their curse is the indelible mark of their failure."

"What of your own ...situation?"

"You mean my own magic being unalterably perverted by Cyndia's demonic essence?" Fairfax hissed, "Now magic meant to compel truthful compliance instead..."

Fairfax clutched her gloved fist. Yelena could see the enchanted stones which adorned them swirling with malevolent energy they were meant to keep in check,...mostly.

"Its effects may have changed Fairfax but the use to which you put them has not," the Abbess-Superior whispered gently, "THAT means something, in fact it means everything."

"Why did you seek me out?" Fairfax replied bitterly.

"Your proteges have appeared in many of my incident reports lately."

"As they have mine, I'm told they're acting as paid mercenaries in the borderlands, adventurers-for-hire so I heard."

"And quite successful," Yelena chuckled, "your training clearly served them well."

"I also have heard that they wallow in perversion and carnal excess -- I assure you that was not part of my training regimen."

Yelena rolled her eyes, "Your feelings about such matters are well documented," Yelena replied.

"Given the rumors about whatever young secretary is pretending to file reports and push papers for you, your opinion on those feelings is equally clear."

"Noble families insisted on The Sisterhood accepting their young men for basic training," Yelena answered evenly, " the duties and discipline may tax them physically but their families, especially their wives and mothers, reportedly benefit from its effectiveness."

Fairfax closed her eyes to not see the wolfish leer on Yelena's face, "What's happening with my proteges?"

.

"They recently intervened in a demon attack on a farming community," Yelena replied, "practically held off the army singlehandedly then assaulted their nest and rescued the civilians trapped there."

"They always were too theatrical." Fairfax snickered derisively.

"There was also an attempt on the life of the Imperial Princess, their names came up again alongside that of the Loviatian Cleric and Death Mage who directly rescued Radiant Dawn."

"What Loviatan could stop whipping themselves long enough to be useful in a fight?"

"He's known for wearing female cleric's armor and vestments and some claim that he adorns his manhood with a magical device which grants him power in exchange for which the Pain Goddess gets total power over his manly urges."

Fairfax snorted, "How did a crossdressing deviant in a chastity device get so infamous?"

"Apparently he's known as The Branded One -- so called because apparently Loviatar herself periodically punishes him for misbehavior."

"Misbehavior such as..."

"Apparently acts of spontaneous kindness and charity."

"Loviatar punishes charity?"

"Loviatar sees undeserved charity... helping purely for the sake of helping, as weak sentiment."

"Surely you jest."

"As he healed victims of the demon attack, witnesses say insults to his manhood and sexual prowess were etched into his flesh by an unseen hand. Another story claims that his giving aid and comfort to the poor resulted in whipping and ball spanking, again by an invisible hand."

"A lovely story I'm sure."

"One told often enough by a diverse enough group of people that the story, even if it is not believed, should at least not be dismissed."

"And Eve and Kristina break bread with this degenerate?"

"Not just them, we took in a Death Cultist some time ago. Brilliantly talented -- almost supernaturally so, she was assigned to the Imperial Army Detachment sent to that farming community, she was supposed to be our eyes and ears upon the Imperial Guard, instead she was captured by demons and almost killed by them until the cleric intervened."

"So Eve and Kristina are what ... associates with this Death Cultist Assassin as well?"

"Rumor has it he cured their curse."

"Wait," Fairfax growled, "He cured their demon curse?"

"Or has lessened its effects such that they can apparently function in polite society without raping whatever unsuspecting fool crosses their path."

"Or whatever passes for polite amongst common mercenaries," Fairfax snorted, "How did he accomplish this?"

"Locals claim it to be Loviatar's power gifted to the Branded One." Yelena replied dryly.

"More likely he's just some luckless idiot with too much power who fell under the Pain Goddess's sway and stumbled like a drunkard upon a means of relieving their suffering."

"But to cure a demonic curse is difficult, to cure a demonic curse fueled by death is said to be impossible."

"But it's Loviatar," Fairfax whined, "since when has the Heavenly Pain Slut grown so formidable?"

"A question which has taken up much discussion within The Ecclesiastical High Council." Yelena replied.

"We didn't denounce and exile Eve and Kristina so they could fall under the influence of some sexual deviant," Fairfax hissed, "If this charlatan can seemingly cure demonic curses there's players with a vested interest in that."

"I came to you hoping you might find your errant proteges and bring them to heel, ...DISCREETLY!" Yelena emphasized, "Remind them both that their exile, painful as it may be, was to protect them AND our beloved Sisterhood to which they swore loyalty."

The two women recited verses from one of the Sisterhood's many hymns to war and conflict.

"By righteous flame and holy magic, the unclean, the heretic and the traitor alike are cleansed of their sin of existence. So has it always been, so shall it always be unto the end of time." They said in chorus.

Yelena took Fairfax in a strong, almost painfully hard grip, "Donatella I know you have strong feelings about this, whatever this death mage can or cannot do -- The Sisterhood's survival is the only thing that matters."

"What are you saying?"

"Lawrence, the Imperial Prince-Regent, has made no secret that he believes that the Empire should expand and that should The Sisterhood resist his call to arms-"

"-Which hopefully we intend to do!" Fairfax growled.

"The wannabe Boy-King proposes the time has come to revisit the Edict Eternal, specifically the charter which granted our order absolute final authority on where and even if we'd raise arms and armies."

"He would attempt to revoke our charter?" Fairfax growled, "The Edict Eternal is just that, ... eternal -- by ancient blood pact and only by that same blood can it be revoked."

"There are those who think that you and I are relics of a past best forgotten."

"By the very same nobility whose corruption and disloyalty made our ordination as the Imperial Shield and Sword necessary."

"The Sisterhood of Battle has kept the Imperial peace for a thousand plus years by strict adherence to a policy of open diplomacy, covert intelligence and when those two fail, the absolute destruction of our enemies AND the razing of their homelands until not one stone remains standing upon another." Yelena reminded Fairfax.

Donatella nodded, "I am aware, our Sisterhood had only to destroy a handful of countries for our foes to get the message."

"I have a grieving widower who'd rather drown in sorrow than rein in his overly ambitious son." Yelena growled.

"It is Lydia he grieves." Fairfax reminded her, "she was the best of us."

"And if the Empire's stability did not hang in the balance I'd be inclined to indulge his grief." Yelena replied.

"The common people thought of her as a living saint," Fairfax growled, "Gods only know what they say now that she's dead."

"Leaving behind a spoiled stepchild who's lust for war is further proof that he shouldn't be allowed in a room with the Golden Throne nevermind sit upon it," Yelena replied.

"Don't forget about his sister," Fairfax growled, "Dawn could be a proper administrator if her desire to pull the wings off butterflies and torturing puppies could be channeled for the greatest good."

"She's been spending time with one of the DeBerrett family -- the youngest I think." Yelena chuckled, "Apparently he's attempting to steer her towards acts of charity."

"Another sexually deviant adventurer so I'm told."

"Indeed, a crossdresser." Yelena chuckled.

Fairfax snorted derisively.

"-With combat prowess enough that if he WAS a female I'd recruit him to train our front line troops." Yelena replied.

"As it is, he's been spending his days hunting for some criminal that attacked Radiant Dawn, according to Inquisitorial reports." Fairfax snorted, "had I known he was associating with the Loviatian I'd have prioritized his detaining and assessment."

"Fairfax you do appreciate what The Sisterhood stands to lose if two freakishly powerful crossdressers and a foolish man child with delusions of usurping his father's throne manage to turn public opinion against us."

"I'll communicate the stakes to my young students."

"Eve and Kristina were our best and brightest Fairfax. If the stories of their exploits are accurate -- and I have seen nothing to make me doubt their veracity-- they've gotten stronger since their exile. There are already recruits openly saying that The Sisterhood should make use of demonic magics if the powers it can bestow can be made to serve the Sisterhood and our Empire. That is a complication we don't need. Make sure Eve Kristina and Olivia understand their responsibilities at this moment and ACT ACCORDINGLY."