I stepped with purpose along the hard-packed twin tracks of the narrow, tree covered road, the hot sun overhead reduced to an enjoyable warmth by the great flanking oaks' widely stretched boughs. I travelled light and needed little. A beautiful young woman could always find a meal, a drink, and a bed.
I was nearing my quarry's lair, if the whispers I'd been following were to be believed. During my long search for Archer Moonfall, I'd travelled far from my small, comfortable home in Neyvy. I'd started my journey south as the first tender shoots of spring's new growth broke ground, and now with summer's peak just past, the warmth of summer would soon release its grip to the chill of fall. I hoped to locate Moonfall soon because traveling in winter, when the roads were slick with mud and the days and nights were cold, would make my wanders much more arduous.
I knew only the warlock's name, or the name given to me by Hayre, my familiar, friend, and travel companion, and I was traveling from town to village in a meandering path as I followed gossip and innuendo. Whispers were now leading me to Burgthur, though I'd need additional directions to find the man I sought, if he was real, once I arrived. I also needed food, drink, and a place to sleep after my day's journey.
Ahead the forest thinned where it had been cut back, and as I neared the edge of the clearing, I could see a small farmhouse in the distance. I considered stopping and asking for shelter at the farm but decided to continue to Burgthur. I should reach the town before nightfall, and there I'd have more sources of information and could begin my search tonight. I continued without slowing, and less than two hour's walk beyond the farm, as the sun touched the tallest trees, the first buildings of Burgthur appeared. Burgthur claimed itself a town, but to my eye it was little more than a village. Town or village, at least it was large enough to have an inn so I wouldn't have to beg or barter for food and shelter.
I entered the Bard Elm Inn tired and hungry from my day of walking. Inside, the inn's tavern was large and well kept, with several of the heavy tables occupied with men eating a tempting looking brown stew full of meat, barley, and carrots, or socializing over mugs of beer. The happy murmur of voices died as I closed the door. A maiden traveling alone was highly unusual, and all eyes turned to me as I shrugged out of my travel cloak.
I moved to a table at the back of the room and took a chair, throwing my cloak over the back of another as I scanned the space, quickly realizing it was unlikely any of these men was the one I sought. After a moment, the rumble of conversation rose in volume as the barmaid approached. She was perhaps ten years older than my apparent age, heavily breasted and thick hipped, with her bodice tightly laced to force her breasts into plump mounds.
"Want something?" she asked as she glided to a stop at my table.
"Do you have rooms?"
"Yes. Two pence gets you a bed. Three gets you a private room."
I smiled at her. "How much for a bowl of that tasty looking pottage and a beer?"
"Two pence, but four pence will buy you a room, dinner, and drink."
"I'll take that."
"Do you have money?"
I reached into the tiny satchel slung around my shoulder, drew out four small coins, and dropped them on the table. The woman reached for the money, but I quickly placed my hand over them. "Dinner and draft, first," I murmured as I reached out and gently nudged her desire.
Her color rose as she smiled. "Of course. It won't be but a moment," she purred before she turned away.
I smiled as I scooped up the coins and dropped them back into my purse. They wouldn't be needed tonight. I was one of the chosen, able to use the power given to me by Hayre to influence people around me.
Eons ago the great demons lost the ability to directly affect events on earth. Their sole remaining capability rested in crafting familiars, demi-demons in animal form, and then reaping power in return from those the familiars enabled. It was the great circle. With an enormous expenditure of power, a great demon could create a familiar, who would then enable a human. As the human used the abilities given to them by their familiar, power beyond their ability to contain flowed back through the familiar to empower their great demon.
I didn't know how many chosen there were, nor how many great demons, nor how many disciplines were represented. I was a lust witch, able to use sexual temptation and lust to influence people. I'd heard rumors there were also witches and warlocks practiced in the disciplines of greed, control, vanity, physical prowess, and control over plants or animals, among others.
I had no way of knowing if the rumors of other disciplines were true and Hayre refused to enlighten me. To my knowledge I'd never met another witch or warlock, but as I'd kept my ability secret, I assumed others did as well. Being discovered practicing magic was a dangerous thing, and I preferred not to be beheaded, drowned, or burned. I'd heal from many injuries that'd kill a normal woman, but I wasn't indestructible.
The barmaid returned with a mug of beer and a large steaming bowl of the delicious smelling stew. She quickly placed the wooden mug and bowl in front of me, along with a large wooden spoon, and a small plate containing a chunk of crusty bread. With her beautiful round face, large breasts, narrow waist, and wide hips, she looked like a woman who would know most of the men in the town.
"What's your name?" I asked as I picked up my spoon and dipped it into the stew, slowly stirring to cool it slightly.
"Elma, Elma Bardsong. What's yours?"
"Valaine Ebonywood," I replied, giving her my latest name.
"Welcome to Burgthur. What brings you to our town?"
I couldn't tell her my true purpose. "Passing through on my way to Glaileen to stay a time with my father's youngest brother and his family. His wife is with child again and needs help." The words flowed easily as it was a lie I'd told often.
The real reason I was in her village was much different. For years, I'd heard rumors of a man to the south that captivated maidens, though at the time I didn't know his name or where I could find him. Overwinter, Hayre had informed me of the bitter struggle developing between Tralgrannik and Tralmilin, two great lust demons, and one cold winter day Tralgrannik had called upon me to collect her due.
After Hayre had enable me, I'd grown my power and honed my skills until I believed I was the equal to any of the chosen, no matter their discipline. Tralgrannik, knowing my strength, had selected me as her proxy in her attempt to crush her rival. By killing Tralmilin's warlock, likely the man of the rumors, I'd destroy one of the familiars her foe used to draw his power.
There was only so much magic in the world, and it seemed to be declining. Even in my lifetime, as matchlock rifles replaced archer and sword in mans' never-ending wars, I could sense magic's slow waning. If I could sense the dwindling, then the great demons surely must be able to as well. It was probably the source of Tralgrannik and Tralmilin's struggle. According to Hayre, if Tralgrannik, through her witches and warlocks, could destroy enough of Tralmilin's familiars, Tralmilin would lose the ability to draw sufficient power to create more familiars, weakening him further. When his last link to his power was severed, he'd cease to exist, and the magic he controlled would return to the place it came from for other great demons to claim.
Using Hayre as a medium, Tralgrannik had appeared to task me with finding Archer Moonfall and killing him. Killing a warlock was no trivial thing, but I'd immediately agreed to undertake the quest. Sixty-four years ago, on the eve of my twentieth birthday, Hayre had enabled me, and as she'd given me my ability, she could also take it away. I wouldn't willingly give up my gift and was prepared to complete any task, perform any duty, to maintain my power.
"Aren't you afraid to travel alone?" Elma asked.
There were no outward signs that someone was a member of the chosen so long as the person was careful. Every ten years or so I moved to a new town and took a new name, arriving as a young maiden who'd lost her family to highwaymen. Though I was nearing my eighty-fourth birthday, I appeared to be a young and ripe woman of perhaps twenty... only more so.
As I gathered power, I'd transformed myself. I'd slowed my aging so that a year was little more than a season. I'd made my breasts larger and firmer, my womanhood tighter, wetter, and more resilient, my skin smoother and more supple, and my dark hair thicker and more luxurious. To compliment my enhanced beauty, I also increased my ability to resist disease and to heal, strengthened and toned my body, and blocked my ability to become pregnant. With practice I'd developed my skills until I could cast spells with such subtly my prey never knew they were being influenced, or if required, I could blind a man or woman with lust, turning them on each other, or themselves, allowing me to escape or control them. Though I couldn't tell Elma why, I was in no danger from traveling alone.
I smiled. "I'm careful, and I hide if I hear horses approaching."
"From where do you hail?"
"Neyvy, twenty days walk to the north."
"Being on the road for such a long time, you've been lucky you haven't been injured... or worse."
