Author's Notes:
This story is erotic fantasy, set in a world of magic. I reserve the right to be listed as the author of this work, wherever it is posted. If found posted anywhere except Literotica.com with this note attached, this story is posted without my permission. © Darkniciad 2000-2007
The sexual situations in this story will be far ranging, and may prove disturbing to some readers. Please be warned that the villains of the story are really evil, and the things they do are not glossed over, or toned down.
I make use of modern weights and measures quite often in my work, because those are the weights and measures of my fantasy world. I know many fantasy readers prefer more archaic terms, and I hope those readers can overlook my use of miles, feet, and other such measures.
Please note that the form of witchcraft in my world is not meant to be true Wicca. Nor is it supposed to follow "Charmed" exactly. No offence or confusion is intended.
You really need to read the previous parts of the story to know the characters and the storyline. This tale follows Danica in her day-to-day adventures, with the greater plot emerging slowly at first. Think of it more as a serial than a novel, and you'll be in the right mindset. Those who have read my story “Ebon Genesis” will get more out of this part of the story than those who haven’t.
This is an edited version of this tale, making use of what I've learned since starting to post at Literotica, and the services of my tireless editor, Roust Writer.
{*****~~o~~0~~o~~*****}
Meckataur’s demonic servants openly watched Zoraster this time as he crossed the weed-choked broken flagstones in the courtyard of Nightmare Castle. The task Zoraster came to offer the demon was something any number of his servants could have performed, but would serve to slake the hellspawn’s thirst for elven blood. More important was the opportunity to see the fruit of Meckataur’s loins, demons that would serve as nearly unstoppable generals in the devil’s building horde. Barely free of their mother’s wombs, now was the only opportunity Zoraster would have to probe their minds, discovering how best to use them and subvert them to his cause. Meckataur was too powerful, his mind too well formed, for Zoraster to control him – yet – but his foul offspring were another matter entirely.
The theatrics that had greeted the Archmage on his previous visit were absent this time, which only confirmed Zoraster’s evaluation of the devil. The hands of the dead opened the doors, rather than magic, and the demons lurking within the walls perched openly – drooling and snarling – throughout the dilapidated castle.
Reaching the dais in the throne room, where Meckataur and his human dupes awaited, Zoraster bowed with a flourish, “Greetings, Meckataur.”
“What do you want, Zoraster,” Meckataur rumbled.
“I find myself with a bit of a problem, one which I believe you would find solving to be quite satisfying.”
The devil’s muzzle broke into a toothy grin, “Go on, Zoraster.”
“Allow me to show you,” Zoraster suggested, and then cast a spell of scrying. A shimmering disk of light appeared, which then shifted and focused to reveal three elves, obviously rangers by their garb and weapons.
“Fey,” Meckataur snarled.
“These three are proving quite troublesome, hunting men I have in the area who are performing vital reconnaissance and strikes. They are young – as elves count such things – and likely do not have the discipline to turn their minds inward, or release their souls to the Fey deities. I thought perhaps you might enjoy peeling the flesh from their bones – slowly.”
The demon concentrated for a moment, reaching out one great, clawed hand toward Zoraster’s scrying portal. Sensing the location to which the portal was attuned, Meckataur growled out the words of a spell – words in the demon tongue that never would have fit in the mouth of a man. Fire engulfed the demon, and when the flames faded, he was gone.
In the scrying portal, flames crackled as Meckataur appeared amongst the elves – driving his clawed hand completely through the chest of the nearest, and slinging the body like a weapon at the other two. One of the elves dived aside – rolling across the forest floor – but the other fell when the demon’s strike hit true. The roaring devil was upon him almost before he hit the ground.
Zoraster appeared to be watching the scene unfold, but in truth, he utilized a prepared magic to probe the minds of the infant demons. Already the size of toddlers, though only weeks old, they nursed at the breasts of their wan, slack-faced mothers.
The creatures numbered five males and one female. The female was the most intriguing, the seeds of seductive power already beginning to take root within her. No doubt, she would be alluring beyond compare when she reached maturity, a powerful weapon against any that could know desire for a human female. Four of the males possessed elemental powers, each keyed to their own specific element. The fifth male, smaller than the rest, would have the touch of death when it matured, and an affinity for the Art burned in its blood as well. All had their sire’s ability to absorb the power of other demons as their own.
Waiting until the right moment, when Meckataur eviscerated the final elf with the razor sharp edges of his scaly wings, and thus had the full attention of his two human servants, Zoraster concentrated upon a ring on his finger.
Darts of faint light emerged from the ring, streaking with impossible speed toward the demonic infants. Arleen jerked her head around to look, obviously having seen the flash in her peripheral vision, but saw nothing unusual. She narrowed her eyes and stared hard at Zoraster, but saw nothing amiss in his posture or expression as the Archmage watched Meckataur roar in triumph through the scrying portal.
A few moments later, the devil reappeared in a burst of flame before them, the three mangled corpses held in his enormous arms. Zoraster banished his scrying portal as Meckataur hurled the corpses to the ground before the cleric Mopario.
The demon’s servant did not need to be instructed what to do. He knelt over the bodies, praying to his dark god. At the same time, Meckataur worked his foul magic over the bodies. In a few moments, the corpses started to lurch violently on the floor, steadily becoming more coordinated in their movement with each passing second.
Meckataur loosed a terrible laugh. “They have not escaped me! Their souls are mine to torment!”
Indeed, the spirits of the elves were visible, tied to the bodies and desperately trying to flee from the pain and suffering of life. The spells of the dark cleric and the demon held them chained to their mortal forms – the faces of the spirits filled with utter anguish.
“It seems we both benefit from this endeavor, Meckataur.”
The demon roared yet again in triumph, trailing off into that horrific laugh before he spoke, “Bring me more, Zoraster. Deliver the Fey unto my grasp, and I will continue to aid you in your mad schemes.”
His true task here accomplished, Zoraster bowed and said, “I shall certainly seek elves to entertain you then, Demon Lord,” before turning to leave.
{*****~~o~~0~~o~~*****}
Danica and Celes sat discussing possible ways to examine the stone again, talking in circles and finding no possible solutions. A knock on the door startled and silenced them, and Danica rose to answer it.
