William's hand tightened around the scroll case in his satchel. The thought of what was inside filled him with shame -- stolen from the compound's evidence room, like a common criminal. In the week since the events at the old Kelothite cathedral, shame had been a constant companion. The man's thoughts kept wandering back, unwillingly going over the day's events. His own failure, and how Gaius had paid the price for his weakness, weighed on his mind. William reminded himself, over and over until it sounded reasonable, the he was reviewing that day to better confront the demon. Or that his painful recollections were penance for his failings. Even late at night, lying in bed with no way to distract himself, when thoughts of the monster flooded his mind and left him awash in a haze of temptation. He'd been strong, William reminded himself. He'd endured. She may have won the battle, but he'd soon send that fiend back to hell.
The plan was necessary. William mentally reviewed it in his head as he moved through the city. The tattered parchment scroll,
Kaskenn's Unsealing
, would open the lock to Silas Revene's apartment. No noise, no fuss. Complex magic wasn't a focus of the Inquisitional training, but he was confident he could handle a scroll. It pained him to have acquired the thing illicitly, but there just wasn't any other way. The templar would slip inside, locate the demon, and force her on pain of banishment to undo the curse that afflicted Gaius. Then he'd take his blade and destroy her.
The simple solidity of the plan steeled William against what he'd have to do. Stealing, breaking into a home, negotiating with a foul creature of darkness, all of these were against what he'd been taught as a Templar. But what choice did he have? William couldn't allow his mentor to languish in his current state, witless and barely conscious. And they couldn't allow the fiend to live.
Worse still, William couldn't tell the order about this -- there was no way to explain it without implicating himself and his mentor, without revealing their failures. At best they'd be stripped of their armor and cast from the Inquisition. At worst, they could be executed for collusion with dark forces. If it was just his own honor at stake, William told himself, he could fall on his sword and do this by the book. But he couldn't let Gaius down. The man meant too much to him.
There it was -- the overbuilt townhouse was an odd, inelegant structure that blended seamlessly with the maze of similar homes, built by merchants with more coin than taste. William idled nearby, renewing his ward and reciting the words to
Banishing Fire
as he waited for the residents to clear out. He worried about looking out of place, even in plain clothes, but passersby didn't seem to notice his unease.
Half an hour later, the midday sun blazing overhead, William saw his chance as the stream of pedestrians lulled for one perfect moment. He stepped up to the door, pulled the scroll from its case, placed his hand on the doorknob, and fumbled over the words of power. A rough, sickly feeling flickered through his body, then vanished. There was a soft
click
. The knob turned freely in his hand.
Silas Revene's house was carefully decorated with paintings, sculptures, and furniture from the most popular artists in the city. William did his best to remain quiet and alert, scowling at the ostentatious display of wealth. Revene would get his due when all of this was over -- harboring a demon would earn you a swift execution under the Court of Steel.
The building had an odd, lingering aroma that William could not place, but suspected was incense. Perhaps for dark rituals? How heavily had Revene been involved in this, William wondered? Parlor, kitchen, and lounge all contained nothing of interest. The templar doubled back and realized he'd missed the stairs, which were untouched by the sunlight streaming through the overly elaborate windows. The beast was lurking in the upper floors, no doubt.
Body tense and alert for danger, William began to ascend. It was most likely a trap -- the creature had exhorted William to come to the house, right after she'd... Never mind that, William thought. Focus. His ward was reinforced and he'd been the top duelist in his class at the academy. It didn't matter if he was expected, or even if that damn pyromancer was here. The man had been lucky, and nothing more -- their fight should have never played out the way it had. Here, in the close confines of a building, with nowhere for the coward to run? William could face any three of his ilk and walk away unsinged.
William pulled his blade from its scabbard as he reached the top of the steps and muttered the words to
Banishing Fire
. The incantation blazed with sacred light in his palm, illuminating the hallway before him. In the flickering mage light, William noticed faint chalk markings under one of the doors. This was it -- cultists loved their damn ritual circles, as Gaius had always said. More chalk than the academy on exam week.
The flickering of his spell sent a ribbon of illumination into the room, widening slowly as William opened the door. There was the summoning circle, as expected. The spacious bedroom had been cleared of furniture to allow for a truly massive web of chalk-etched runes and symbols. The language meant nothing to William, but he was sure powerful magic had been used here.
At the center of the pattern, kneeling on the floor, was the succubus.
She was dressed immodestly, as befitted her sinful nature. A white sweater hung off her body, revealing her shoulders and a shameful amount of cleavage along with the black satin straps of her bra. Her skin shone gently in the half-light? The sweater's tight, thin material clung to her chest, illuminating the curves of her body. A short pair of horns pushed through the glossy blonde hair that fell just past her shoulders, drawing the eyes to the black silk choker that ringed her neck. Her unreasonably short skirt was disturbed in the back by a thin tail resting above the firm swell of her round, perfect ass. She wore open-toed black platform heels, each secured by a black silk ribbon that wound up her calf.
The woman was half-facing away from the door, her eyes downcast. Had she not noticed him? Was she in some sort of trance, or meditation? William's breath had grown short and he realized he was staring. Her body was pure temptation, but his eyes were focused on her chest. The plump, tantalizing curve of her breasts rose and fell gently with every breath, the tight fabric of her sweater accentuating her body. William stared at the slick curves of her cleavage as thoughts unbefitting a templar seeped into his mind. He wanted to get closer, to see more clearly.
The light from William's spell flickered momentarily before roared back to life. He needed to be firm with the creature, like Gaius would have been. William flung the door open, holding his left hand over his head to illuminate the room.
"You'll not best a Templar so easily, monster! There will be no escape for you this time."
The demon turned, gazing up at him through long eyelashes. Here tail flicked back and forth, sending tiny ripples across her skirt.
"Well?" William called. "No honeyed words this time, eh? On your feet, fiend -- today you answer for your crimes against Nath Valen and her people." He stepped forward into the room, spell aimed at the creature before him and blade held in the guard position.
He eyed her cautiously as the succubus rose to her feet with inhuman grace. "Oh, I'm so terribly sorry sir Templar," she said coquettishly, batting her eyelashes. "I didn't want to cause you any trouble."
"Lies and deception -- you won't talk your way out of this." William took a step into the room, checking the corners in case that mage was lurking around. "And step back -- up against the wall. I want you no closer to me than necessary."