CHAPTER 22

Time passed without meaning while Celia was cradled in the heart of the flames. Nothing could touch her here, not even her own thoughts. The moment the seed of one took root the flames lapped at it, replacing it with Blue and Green. She was left as simply Celia, free to savor the sensations washing over her.

Something indistinct and vague glimmered a distressing Red. A thrum of magic, alien but welcomed, pushed whatever it was far away and Celia forgot to remember it.

Desire simmered, drinking in the flame to tease Celia’s sex. It was a pleasant tingle, something to bring her deeper into perfect relaxation rather than an urgent need to be sated. Nothing urged her to touch herself, so she just let it blend with everything else until every lick of colored flame against her body carried it.

“Celia, can you hear me?” The voice pulled at Celia, slipped in along with the warmth of the flames. Gella’s voice. It didn’t boom from on high, or shake the warrior with its importance, Rather it was a voice Celia simply knew held power over her.

“Yes,” Celia heard her own voice, hearing how subdued and dreamy it sounded. The flames pulsed brighter for just a moment, feeding on the conjured image of how she must look. Nearly naked, dazed and enthralled and open for Gella to admire.

“Wonderful,” Gella sounded pleased, which immediately sent a small smile to Celia’s lips. “Now, until I awaken you from this trance, you will be unable to lie. To me or to yourself.” A sliver of flame snaked into Celia, wrapping around something deep within Celia’s mind. A faint sensation of pressure later and Celia groaned in delight.

“Can’t lie,” Celia felt herself breathe out, feeling a blush color her cheeks at how happy she sounded. Idley she tried telling herself a silly lie, that the sky was a color other than blue. Nothing else came to mind, and Celia groaned softly once more.

“How did that make you feel?” Celia could hear the amused smirk in Gella’s voice.

“Weak,” the word felt off, not complete. It was left begging for more. Being weak wasn’t nice, she didn’t enjoy it. “In a good way.” Better, but it still felt off.

“Vulnerable, Celia.” Gella provided. “Letting yourself be weak is showing vulnerability.”

Celia nodded, or at least tried to get her muscles to move despite the overwhelming lethargy. “Felt vulnerable,” she amended, playing with the sound of the word in her mind until it vanished in the flames.

“That’s good to know, Celia,” Gella soothed. There was a length of silence, time which Celia happily drifted, letting the flames distract and comfort her. “Now, Celia, tell me how you feel about me.”

The whirl of flame that simple question sparked took some time to die down. Answers branched off into answers, and all had some truth to them. Gella didn’t push, she simply let the flame and the colors untangle and burn away everything until only the pure truth was left. “I like you a lot,” she said, softly. “Scared me at first, kidnapping me and making them touch me after breakfast.” The briestest flare of Red raced along the flames, only to be subsumed by Green. Having things forced on her by Gella as a demonstration of her control that first day, and then being forced by Violet, had been awful. But Gella had apologized and made up for it many times over. A memory of a term discussed in Gella’s office flared and this time there was no bravado to hide it. “You make me feel submissive, cared for.”

Only after the words spilled from her lips did Celia really hear them. They were the truth, separated from her fear and postering. Gella made her feel like she could be soft, and it felt so good. More than good. Cared for.

Something unexpected cautiously unfurled in Celia’s chest. A warm giddiness that effortlessly mixed with the tingling lethargy of Gella’s trance. A desire, a yearning, something she didn’t quite have a name for. Something very much like– “I love you.”

Silence reigned after her confession, robbed of any awkwardness by the feeling of Gella’s fingers slipping into Celia’s hair. “Tell me Celia, do you feel the same for my Treasures?”

Celia nodded slowly. The sweet smiling priestess with the pink hair and the gentle demeanor slipped across her mind like a fleeting kiss. “Lauren,” she said quietly.

“Not Tabby?” Gella asked softly, still carefully petting Celia’s hair.

Picturing the cat-girl in her usual naked splendor, Celia felt a tremor of desire run though her. Tabby was gorgeous, playful and fun. Sharing her body with the cat-girl felt wonderful. Even simply relaxing and enjoying her company was nice. She tried to imagine opening her heart to Tabby though, and felt only a numb impossibility. She cared for the cat-girl, liked her quite a bit, but wasn’t in love with her. She shook her head. “I like Tabby a lot. I don’t love her.”

“And Violet?” Gella continued.

The elven woman was just as easy to imagine. Her careful elegant bearing, the pulsing rune on her forehead, and her flawless maid’s dress all combined with a body that Celia knew was beautiful. A tiny frown creased her forehead before the Blue and Green soothed it away, leaving a tingle of Purple. Violet had pushed, taken, and used Celia. She had been gentle enough about it, leaving the warrior feeling sated and happy at the time, but hardly cared for. Violet may have promised she cared for Celia but that certainly didn’t mean Celia loved her in return. “No,” she said simply

“I see,” Gella said quietly. A tiny knot of tension began to coil in Celia’s stomach. She had told Gella, said the words. She loved the mage, or at was it felt like she did. Gella wanted her, had taken her and was going through so much to keep her. The flames tried in vain to soothe away the building tension. The need to stay so deep and relaxed warred with Celia’s building nerves, pushing her slowly up toward waking.

“Do you love me?” Celia managed before letting the impossibly heavy weight pull her mind back down.

Silken lips brushed a delicate kiss on Celia’s forehead. “Of course I do.” The knot of tension vanished, letting Celia fully submit to the flames. “From the moment we met I wanted you to be one of my Treasures.”

The image of herself Gella had shown in the enchanted mirror caught Celia’s imagination. Herself, but stronger and happier. Wearing armor with Gella’s crest, her champion and knight. It had tempted her before, now called to her with an insistence that was undeniable. “Your Treasure,” Celia repeated happily, shifting her legs together a tiny bit to tease the bolt of pleasure the idea brought.

“You are eager,” Gella commented approvingly and Celia felt herself melt a little further. “But not quite ready.” Her fingers returned, carefully petting Celia. “Parts of your mind need my care and attention to heal. Other parts you aren’t quite ready to surrender completely. When you are ready to be my Treasure, in mind, heart, and soul, I will claim you,” the mage promised with a tone of solemnity.

Before Celia could voice her protest that she was ready, could force herself to surrender, Gella continued. “Celia, listen and obey. You are content to wait until I deem you ready before I fully claim you.”

It was a subtle shift in Gella’s tone, but it drove the command straight into Celia’s mind. She gasped at the strength of it. It joined the voices of Samuel and Deborah, subtle and lingering with fae magic. “I deserve to feel pleasure. I am proud of my body. I can drop my guard and focus on pleasure with those I want to share it with. I am content to wait until you deem me ready to claim me.” The words took control of her lips, reciting themselves and pressing themselves ever deeper into Celia’s mind.

She would obey, as she obeyed her other commands. Desire and need flared, but only enough to drive a needy moan from the warrior. The lethargy keeping her delightfully docile strengthened, leaching not just Celia’s body but her awareness. She struggled to keep her focus on Gella. “Such a good girl,” Gella purred. Celia smiled tiredly, already letting the distinction between soft couch cushions and her own fantastic dreamscape blur together. “Sleep, Celia,” was all she needed to let go of her dedication and plunge into the welcoming peaceful darkness.

________________

Cheers filled the stands of the massive coliseum. A sea of pointy wizards hats swelled and shifted along with the rising noise. The sky above was pristine beautiful blue and the Sun and Moon both looked down excitedly at the match. “Remember, duck high and jump low,” the Moon whispered conspiratorially. “Gets them everytime.”

Celia nodded in thanks at the moon as she tightened her grip on her soup ladle and pot lid. Across the ring, her opponent was clad head to toe in shifting dark water and hefted their massive two-handed soup spoon. Celia took one last moment to check that her beautiful orange flames still covered her own body and charged toward her opponent.

The spoon was held in classic soup position, leaving Celia room to hop the stem of it and run around her opponent, splashing the water covering their chest with her pot lid. It streamed off, revealing a toned feminine torso. After backflipping over her opponent and flourishing her ladle, Celia was treated to a pair of perky breasts atop a slender toned stomach.

“Point one to Celia." Called the official pine tree. “Back to your corners.”

Celia nodded and returned to her corner of the dueling ring, feeling elated. “You did good, just focus on winning the match instead of her tits and you’ll do great," her scar encouraged.

“I’m not staring at her tits,” Celia lied, darting her eyes away from her opponent's enticing body. “I’m studying her for weaknesses.”

“I am literally right under one of your eyes,” her scar deadpanned.

Celia fumed a little at how correct her scar was. “Fine,” she grumbled before rushing out to continue the match.

Her opponent was waiting, spoon held upright like a staff. Grinning, Celia went for the obvious exposed legs, when a bare hand thrust forward. “Ceannas,” the voice purred, and Celia saw the spell coiling toward her, colored red and beguiling and–

She needed to help the spell, Celia suddenly remembered. Someone very important had told her to help this spell as much as she could. A moment later there was a satisfying and solid CLANG and her mind was firmly caged.

The roar of the crowd, her scar’s murmured advice, even the commentary of the Sun and Moon faded into the background. The sundrenched coliseum melted away, replaced with a windowless stone room. It was a cozy place, soft arcane lights illuminated plush carpets and comfortable chairs. Something about it teased Celia’s memory, only for the bars around Celia’s mind to force the memory away.

This wasn’t the spell as she remembered it. It wasn’t just her body that was held still, her thoughts also seemed so much quieter. It was peaceful, though. Calming, even. She took in a deep slow breath and let it out over several heartbeats. The woman clad in water slowly strutted behind Celia and out of view. “Bare your body, Celia,” a voice, confident and warm, purred in Celia’s ear.

It took only a thought for the flames around Celia’s body to wink out, and her nerveless fingers to let the ladle and lid drop to the floor. They clattered once, then the sound was swallowed up, leaving just Celia and the woman behind her.

Warm naked skin pressed against Celia’s back. A heady mix of perfume, musk and incense wafted from the unknown woman. “What a difference just a few days can make,” the voice cooed. A single point of something as sharp as a razor ran along Celia’s side as softly as a feather before it vanished and a hand cupped her breast.

Her awareness was overwhelmed with the sweet sensation of gentle fingertips lightly grazing her neck. Soft lips followed, sending shivers down her spine as they slowly kissed along her skin. She heard a whisper so close to her ear that it sent a chill through her body. "Isn't this just so much more pleasant than fighting me?" It murmured seductively.

Fighting this wonderful feeling? Why on Eitheris would she do that? “Much better,” Celia agreed, drawing a slow breath and letting it out as a sigh when a thumb and forefinger pinched her stiff nipple.

A throaty chuckle echoed in the room, and Celia couldn't help but smile in response. Suddenly, something smooth and silky glided across her chest, and a sultry voice purred "You can look around." She glanced down to see a length of sleek black rope sliding against her skin. It felt extraordinary, leaving no mark or scratch on her flesh. "Feels good, doesn't it?" The voice asked once more, and Celia nodded eagerly, her body quivering with anticipation. "Imagine yourself tied up with it," the commanding voice continued.

The silken length of rope caressed her body, teasing and tantalizing. Her arms were pulled behind her back before being firmly bound at the wrists. Celia felt the ropes slowly drift down each leg, never missing a single inch of skin. Then, ever so gently, her legs were urged together and tied at the ankle. The sultry voice spoke from behind Celia, “Now close your eyes, my warrior.” She gladly did as commanded, feeling the mysterious woman lifting her effortlessly in her arms.

Bound but still keenly aware, Celia savored the heat radiating from the other woman's body. The tantalizing aroma of her captor was heavier than the thick air around them, and Celia drew it into her lungs. Every inch of contact between their skin felt like a promise. After what felt like moments, yet could have been hours, the other woman finally set her down onto a mattress that was plush beyond anything Celia had ever experienced. She found herself basking in its decadence. “Now Celia, fàs mothachail.”

The comfortable content feeling that pervaded Celia’s mind vanished in an instant. Her eyes snapped open and got wide when she saw who had been touching her, holding her. She drank in gray flawless skin over sleek defined muscles, a flowing robe the color of fresh blood, a mane of brilliant red hair and eyes that smoldered like a forge’s coals. “Aversa,” Celia gasped, struggling against the ropes.

The ropes held, wrapped just tight enough to constantly remind Celia she was bound but without the slightest hint of burn or friction. After a moment of fruitless struggling that only highlighted just how helpless she was, Celia glared at the demoness. “Let me go,” she demanded hotly.

One of the demonesses eyebrows rose inquisitively. “Let you go?” She strode over to the bed, one sharp nail extended. Celia braced herself against the single sharp point running along her side, trying to stifle her gasp. It was dangerous, darkly thrilling and she couldn’t help but shiver at the carefully balanced point of pain. “But Celia,” the demoness said with mocking sweetness, “I haven’t taken you anywhere at all. You’re still safe and sound in your cozy bed.” Sharp claws melted smoothly back into fingers that snapped once.

The air in front of Celia shimmered before opening up into what looked to her to be her own room at Cair Dwemor. Laying in her nightgown and wrapped in the blankets with a peaceful look was… herself. “I’m… dreaming?” A fragment of memory, of her getting ready to duel with a soup ladle. “How? Gella has you locked in that room,” she declared fervently.

Aversa gave an expansive shrug of her shoulders, laying herself on the bed alongside Celia. Her large imposing wings stretched out before wrapping close around her body “Believe me or don’t, it matters little.” Her still humanoid fingers brushed Celia’s hair away from her eyes. “You and I need to have a chat.”

Unable to do more than glare balefully at Aversa, Celia let herself relax in her bonds. “I don’t seem to have much of a choice.”

Aversa let out an amused full bodied laugh. “Indeed you do not, little mortal. A nugget of wisdom from your indulgence, perhaps?” She gestured to the conjured image and it dissolved in a swirl of colors to show Celia’s head in Lauren’s lap while the priestess massaged her temples. “I can’t say I am surprised that you went with the little candy–” Aversa’s eyes caught the building anger in Celia’s. “That you went with Lauren first,” Aversa smoothly amended.

Celia swallowed the anger back, pushing the flutter of confusion along with it. Aversa was almost certainly trying to get her off balance somehow, and caring about Lauren enough to use her name just had to be part of that. She continued to glare at the demon, unwilling to play her game.

“Or you can just sulk and I can talk,” Aversa continued, not visibly bothered in the slightest by Celia’s silence. “As I was saying, Lauren was the obvious first choice. Gentle, kind, and about as exciting as warm milk.”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” Celia growled. The fact she had to wiggle to move only pushed her frustrations further. “Lauren is a wonderful and amazing woman.”

Aversa only rolled her ember red eyes. “Yes yes, I know she is wonderful. Like sunshine on your soul, and a hug on your mind,” Aversa dismissed airly. “I was much more intrigued with Lathallen, and her plans for you.” She gestured to the shimmering projection and it shifted to Celia laying in her bed rubbing between her legs while Violet whispered in her ear. Watching that left Celia with a mixture of shame and excitement swirling in her stomach. She looked away, trying to keep from dwelling on it. Aversa’s hand cupped Celia’s chin, pulled it back to watch the conjured image. “She took you, made you obey, made you want to obey,” Aversa hissed softly.

The shame burned at her even as the memories stirred her passion. She hadn’t just wanted to obey Violet, she had been proud to obey. She shut her eyes tight. “Shut the fuck up!" She yelled.

The hand at her chin dropped away then a second later it wrapped around her throat. Celia tensed, and Aversa’s hand tightened just enough to press in. “Such manners, Celia,” Aversa chided. “I guarantee that under my heel, you wouldn’t dream of an outburst like that.” The hand around her throat vanished, along with the ropes binding Celia. She struggled to her feet, and faced the supine demoness. “Which leads me to the point of our chat, Celia. You’ve been keeping me on the edge of my seat with my offer, and I am beginning to grow restless.”

With a supernatural grace that surpassed even Tabby, Aversa slipped off the bed and rose to her full height. “Celia,” she began smoothly. “Listen and obey.” Celia felt the phantom cage around her thoughts instantly gleam to full prominence, forcing her attention on Aversa. “When you wake up you will immediately go to Gella and bring her to my room.” Pure magical force pressed the command into Celia’s mind until it was as unavoidable as her other truths.

Celia clenched her jaw, waiting for the force to subside. The pressure on her mind faded, as did the room and the smirking demoness. Eventually all Celia could make out were her glowing red eyes and her voice purring “See you soon, little knight.”

________________

Awakeness came to Celia suddenly, jolting her from soundly asleep to wide awake in an instant. She barely had time to let the events of her dream and the conversation with the demoness settle before her legs swung out of bed and she walked purposefully to the door. Distantly she knew this was Aversa’s command, but for the moment it was incredibly important she go see Gella right away.

The state of hyperfocus stayed with her all the way to knocking on Gella’s door. Other thoughts and attempts to control her own body were feeble things against the task Aversa had set Celia onto. Gella opened the door wearing a long midnight black nightgown, her hair loose and flowing down her back. A tiny part of Celia marveled at how she could look so lovely and put together this early in the morning. Then Aversa’s control seized her entirely. She needed to get Gella down to Aversa.

“Aversa has me under a spell, I have to bring you to her,” Celia said bluntly. She cringed internally at her own bluntness, though she had to admit it was at least effective, judging by how Gella’s eyes peered through her.

Before Celia could react Gella warped the space around her with a muttered “Air falbh,” and appeared down the corridor out of the warrior’s reach. “Bog mar shìoda,” Gella incanted.

In an instant, Celia’s legs simply buckled underneath her. She started to fall, and the truth of what was happening hit her like ice water. The stuff soldiers and young women alike have nightmares about. A paralysis spell. She hit the ground with a painful thud, and she could only lay there, breathe, and follow Gella with her eyes as she stepped closer.

She… She knew she wasn’t in danger. But when she saw the mage looming over her, it took her back to the mortal terror of Gella so soundly defeating her that first night, all the same. Had Gella just been playing with her, then?

The one thing that was different, though, was the expression on the mage’s face. Gella didn’t look confident, or smug, or curious like she had that night. She only looked concerned. In a few moments, the mage was upon her, and quickly got down to her knees by Celia’s side. She took a few seconds to help Celia out of the uncomfortable heap she’d collapsed into, then… bizarrely, she pulled Celia into something between cradling her, and an embrace.

“I am sorry about this, Celia,” Gella started, looking into her eyes. “But… as unwelcome and irresponsible as it was, Violet's game did still prove how dangerous it could be when someone else touches your mind.”

Celia swallowed, and – oh thank the gods I can still do that. She met Gella’s gaze for a while. She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t communicate much like this, certainly couldn’t tell Gella she wasn’t a danger.

“You said Aversa has you under a spell to bring me to her. Blink once if that’s truly all that you can feel of its effects. Is that the only compulsion you have towards me?”

Celia considered that, then slowly blinked once.

“Outstanding,” Gella purred. The mage looked like she was going to say more, then paused for a moment, and reached into her no-space. In moments, she was holding a single needle that looked very much like the ones Violet carried around. “I’m going to lift the spell now, my pretty knight, and I need you to understand that I want you to remain absolutely still once I do. No movements, no twitches, no getting more comfortable. If you do anything like that, you’ll feel a prick, and then you’ll be too dizzy to even think about moving for a few hours, and have a dreadful headache afterwards.”

Celia would have smiled, if she could have. There was something deeply appealing about the – all the gods, how to put it – ruthlessly efficient manner Gella was going about this. She’d realized Celia was possibly a danger, and hadn’t even skipped a beat in subduing her, nor had she needed more than a few breaths to come up with a plan.

“Blink again if you understand, and will stay still,” Gella said, already pressing the needle to Celia’s throat.

Celia blinked.

“Daingean mar an talamh,” Gella intoned, closely watching her. Celia thought she could feel the strength return to her muscles, but was not at all willing to test that theory with what she assumed was a needle coated in dazeweed sap pressed to her throat. “In a whisper, tell me what the spell does, Celia.”

“You need to come with me to Aversa,” Celia pleaded, quietly. “Please, Gella.”

“Oh, believe me, Celia, after this stunt, no power on Eitheris could keep me from charging down there.”

“You don’t understand, Gella! It’s–”

Gella pressed a finger to Celia’s lips, silencing her. Once she shut up, Gella started to stroke her hair instead. It was a gesture that seemed more like something Lauren would do, but she loved it, now that Gella was the one doing it, too… “Listen closely to what I said, Celia. I will go down there. That cannot be stopped. Not you, not the gods, not Tabby choking on a peanut could keep me. I’ll go down there all the same. So you can stop worrying about it, okay? As far as I’m concerned, your job is already done.”

Your job is already done. The words echoed through Celia’s mind, and a wave of relief rushed over her as the crushing sense of urgency fell away. She’d been wrong. Gella understood exactly. Scarcely twenty seconds of interrogating her, and she’d solved the problem. She let out a sigh, and whispered “thank you,” with a tone that made her sound more like a soldier that had been given a potion after a catastrophic injury than anything else.

“Did that help?” Gella asked, needle still to Celia’s throat.

“You fixed it,” Celia agreed with a dumb smile on her face, and Gella withdrew the needle, instead helping Celia up, to sit with her and taking her hand into one of hers. “That was… brilliant.” She blushed a little, realizing she was gushing and fawning.

“Why, thank you, Celia,” Gella replied pleasantly. “I would hazard a guess that your night was eventful?”

“Very,” Celia grumbled. “How did Aversa manage to cast spells on me?” Celia asked, worry creeping into her voice. “You have her trapped in that barrier, right?”

Gella stopped stroking Celia’s hair and helped them both to their feet. She brought a finger to her lips, tapping them lightly. “I have a theory or two.” She gazed out into the middle distance for a while, then her awareness returned to Celia with a start. “Oh, and I must ask forgiveness.” She shared a devious smile with Celia before taking a half step away to dip a curtsey. “Good morning, my Lady Celia,” she said with a soft reverent voice

“Thank you,” Celia replied before taking another calming breath. Seeing Gella alert and aware was nice, but her seemingly not taking the threat of Aversa seriously made Celia uneasy. “Aversa?” She prompted.

Gella rose from her curtsey. “Well,” she started, the faux demure voice vanishing entirely. “She still has your sword, right?” Gella asked, leading Celia back into her rooms.

“Yes,” Celia agreed while following the mage. Passing back into Gella’s bedroom Celia found she wasn’t surprised in the least at its pristine cleanliness. There wasn’t a hint to the passion the room had been witness to the previous night. The bed didn’t even look slept in. “Gella,” Celia asked, looking at the bed “You do sleep, right?”

“Of course I sleep, my Lady Celia. Why do you ask?” Came the reply from behind Celia. She turned, ready to explain, and her thoughts stopped dead in their tracks.

Gella was standing before her wardrobe, as naked as a newborn babe. Celia's throat tightened and her gaze moved slowly over the mage's body. Gella had Lauren's physique, toned but not overly muscular, yet with a mature allure that the priestess didn't possess. Her breasts were high and full, crowned by delicate dark nipples. Below Gella's slightly rounded stomach, her womanhood was bared for Celia to admire. Celia's attention had almost drifted to the golden anklet around Gella's right ankle when a lilting laugh broke the silence. "My, my," Gella said in amusement, taking a step towards Celia, "If I had known my body could captivate you like this, I would have prepared you ahead of time."

In a flash Celia remembered that first meeting, Gella teleporting out of her armor and leaving her chest bare. Her eyes met Gella’s, soft and lightly teasing, and for a moment was certain the mage was remembering the same thing. Celia had thought the mage was beautiful even then. The swirling thorns obscuring her past, her own need to be constantly vigilant, and later her fear had gotten in the way of that. But right now, looking at the women in all of her gods given glory, Celia could only blush. “You… you’re beautiful, Gella.” She managed.

“Thank you Celia,” Gella replied with an honest sincerity that settled warmly over Celia’s heart. “I’ll get dressed, then I’ll share my theory.” Her confidant smirk returned before she added “if you would like to get dressed as well, my Lady Celia?”

________________

After taking a shower and dressing in a pair of tan breeches with a blue blouse, Celia walked back though Gella’s open door. She found the mage in a room she hadn’t seen the previous night. If the workroom on the first floor was a testament to organization, this room was the polar opposite. Piles of books covered the desks. Some were opened and others used as page markers. Alchemical devices, the function of which Celia couldn’t even guess at, spun, glowed, or pulsed rhythmically on a shelf along the far wall. One wall was entirely dominated with a chalkboard covered in symbols and equations that made Celia’s head spin.

Gella herself was seated at one desk while a comb ran itself over and over through her silky silver hair. A bowl of porridge was suspended to the side, and a spoon scooped itself full and brought it to Gella’s lips, while the woman’s eyes never left the book she was pouring over.

Gella’s focus was so complete she didn’t even stir when Celia leaned against the door frame. It gave her a moment to admire the silver haired woman. She had chosen a dark tunic with blue trim on top of brown breeches and a pair or sturdy boots. Still deeply absorbed in the book, Gella flicked her hand toward the chalkboard. “Notation. Possible short range spell matrix transposition by sympathetic magic,” she muttered after swallowing the spoonful.

In time with Gella’s words, the meaning of which entirely escaped Celia, a piece of chalk transcribed them neatly onto the green surface. Watching Gella’s deep concentration an odd thought bloomed in Celia’s mind. She had never seen the mage this vulnerable before. She smiled happily at the thought. “What are you working on?”

Gella spun around and looked at Celia with wide eyed shock for a split second. Then her usual collected calm reasserted itself, and Celia was left unsure if it ever actually left. “Other ideas on how Aversa could have affected you.”

“Gella,” Celia began, struck by an idea she was astonished hadn’t come up before. “Why do you even have a demon in your basement?”

“She’s another experiment,” Gella said casually. “And a great source of information as well.”

Subconsciously scratching at the thin line down her calf with the opposite foot, Celia frowned suspiciously at Gella. “You aren’t actually making deals with a demon, right? There isn’t a single tale where that ends well.”

Gella rose from her seat and smiled. “Worried about me getting on the wrong side of some nasty demon, my Lady Celia?” She asked, cupping Celia’s cheek.

The mage’s hand was warm and soft, and Celia eagerly savored the intimate touch. “I am,” she replied quietly. “I am supposed to be your champion, right? Keeping you safe should be my highest priority.”

“Outstanding answer, Celia.” Gella said just as softly. Celia looked into her warm gray eyes and saw appreciation writ large. Warmth and contentment brushed along Celia’s body, and both mage and warrior spent a quiet moment simply enjoying the sensation. “To answer your question, the only deals I make with Aversa are ones that the legal scholars in Adampor look over.”

“Aversa is a demon, Gella.” Celia said, trying hard to keep the exasperation from her voice. “Nothing good can come from making deals with her kind,” she insisted. Half remembered fables from her childhood drifted across her memory, and not a single one had anything good to say about demons.

Gella arched an eyebrow and smirked. “If you do it foolishly, I wholeheartedly agree. But with care and forethought, a demon of Aversa’s age and power is an incredible resource. She can be bargained with.”

Her own experience with Aversa had been much much less amenable, Celia reflected bitterly. She had nothing to offer, and in the end Aversa simply dictated. The thought of what Gella could possibly offer suddenly grabbed her attention. “You don’t give her people… right?”

Gella tapped her lip thoughtfully. “Well of course I keep her fed. I’m not about to starve her out to get what I want.”

Before the outraged look on Celia’s face could shift to a single word, Gella cut her off with a shake of her head. “My Lady Celia,” the mage said firmly, the honorific doing nothing to stop the force of personality behind Gella’s words, “I’m sure you have all kinds of awful ideas about how Aversa feeds. I assure you, it’s a painless process and quite pleasant when done in moderation.”

Celia looked silently into Gella’s eyes, feeling chastised by the rebuke. “I… I didn’t know.”

“No harm done, my Lady Celia,” Gella said, her voice comforting and soft. The vague discomfort vanished in the face of that wonderful tone. “Suffice it to say, Aversa is a delicate subject. One I am fully capable of dealing with.” The firm confidence in Gella’s voice was an incredible comfort to Celia. “Case in point, getting your sword back from Aversa should end her ability to influence you.”

“She’s using her magic on my sword… And that’s affecting me somehow?” Celia guessed.

“Well spotted, my Lady Celia.” Gella’s complement warmed Celia, tempering the rising anger at Aversa for breaking her word on tampering with her sword.

“We just go down and ask for it back?” Celia grimaced. “I don’t think she is likely to just hand it over.”

“Normally you would be correct, Celia," Gella began, easily slipping into the tone Celia was coming to know as her scholar voice. “However, knowingly or not, she made a contract with you. She promised your sword would be returned to you as her knight or to me when you swore to be mine.”

Swearing to be Gella’s. Well she had done that. All but begged for it, she remembered with a twinge of embarrassment. Only a twinge, though, almost nothing at all compared to just how right the choice felt. “I haven’t changed my mind,” she said quietly, looking into Gella’s eyes. “I want to be yours, and I’m content to wait until you deem me ready to claim me.” The words slipped out effortlessly, as natural as breathing. Only after she saw Gella grin happily did she replay them back to herself. “Oh,” she breathed out, blushing as the contented feeling warmed her every so slightly.

“That, my lovely Lady Celia, was amazing to watch,” Gella purred, trailing her hand back up to brush some of Celia’s hair aside. “And I think that will work perfectly to convince Aversa.”

________________

They stood side by side at the obvious door. “One thing I am very curious about, Celia,” Gella began, gesturing to the door. “Is how Aversa got around our deal with her door.” Seeing the confused look on Celia’s face, Gella continued. “Part of her staying here. She gets to watch the manor, and in return she has to keep the door hidden from all.” She stopped and sighed deeply. “Fucking literal demon,” she muttered. Turning to Celia, Gella looked slightly sheepish. “The exact terms were she had to hide the door from my Treasures, intruders, and anyone I specify.”

“And at the time I found her, I didn’t fit into any of those categories and–” Celia’s thoughts suddenly screeched to a halt. “She gets to watch us? As in, all the time?”

Gella blinked at her with a confused look. Finally she seemed to reach a conclusion. “Oh! You’re worried about her seeing you naked?” The mage shook her head. “You’re proud of your body, right?”

“I am proud of my body,” Celia repeated smoothly, letting the words glide right past her lips. A smile tugged at her and she glanced sideways to the mage. Gella knew, she had to know, and she did it anyway. “Manipulative,” she said quietly.

“Just honest,” Gella countered with her own smile before reaching into nowhere and pulling two long strips of black cloth. “Help me tie this on.”

Celia took the offered strip while Gella faced away from her. The material was quite heavy but also silky soft. When she ran her fingers over it, the light from the magelights reflected back in distorted patterns. Looping it over Gella’s head, Celia gathered the mass of silver hair out of the way. “Blindfolds?” She guessed, tying the fabric into a loop.

“Enchanted ones, yes,” Gella said happily. “Proof against any illusions Aversa might try to throw at us, and makes us immune to her gaze as well.”

Once Gella’s blindfold was tight the mage turned around and spun her fingers to Celia. “Let me do yours.”

Celia spun around as ordered, smiling at the rough stone wall. It was a small thing to obey like this, but still felt wonderful. Gella very rarely asked for things, she commanded. Like she assumed the world would simply conform to her. A blush joined the smile when she considered that included her. “The pink is fading,” Gella commented before the dark cloth was pressed against Celia’s eyes with only a whisper of pressure. “Not that I mind, you have such a beautiful natural color. Like fresh ash mixed with wheat.”

Once Gella tightened the blindfold the world in front of Celia glowed into being, like a dark room with light suddenly restored to it. She glanced around, looking at the wall and then back to Gella. “It’s like I’m not wearing it at all,” she exclaimed excitedly. “These are amazing.”

Gella gave a self satisfied little smirk that was only enhanced by her eyes being hidden and a tiny nod of her head. “Thank you.” She gestured for Celia to follow her. “Lets go get your sword back.” Protected by Gella’s magic, Celia nodded and confidently followed Gella into Aversa’s room.

Without the demoness’s magic distracting her, Celia was able to see the room as it really was. A small antechamber opened into a large domed room, the boundary of which was clearly marked with a line of bright blue runes. Just beyond them, Aversa’s cell was still as richly decorated as it had been. The bed and chairs were incredibly plush and comfortable looking, a hearth lay currently unused in front of two arm chairs, and a large mirror was pushed off to one side with another chair in front of it.

Aversa herself was loitering right beyond the runic boundary. Even with the magic blindfold shielding her, Celia was still struck by Aversa’s otherworldly beauty. A relatively modest gown in a deep black flowed from Aversa’s neck all the way to her ankles, and her arms played host to bangles and bracers that glittered in the arcane lights. Her dark wings lay folded against her body like a cape. “Such a good little mortal you are, Celia.” She purred, voice heavy and enticing. One sharp wicked looking talon beckoned her closer. “Come closer and I can give you a treat.”

Celia’s nose wrinkled and she shifted closer to Gella. The feeling of happy acquiescence she felt when Gella commanded her was entirely absent with Aversa. Only the dark quiet part of her mind, the part that dealt in fantasies, whispered about how good obeying Aversa would feel. Thoughts which she had no trouble ignoring and focusing past.

“Aversa,” Gella said warningly. “Behave.”

Mage and Demoness locked eyes and Celia could swear she felt the air grow thick enough to cut. Aversa ended it with a theatrical sigh. “Well, can’t blame a woman for trying,” she said blithely. Turning around to walk toward the chest of drawers by her bed, Celia saw that the dress even had a slit cut in it for Aversa’s tail, which she swayed back and forth. When she came back Celia’s heart jumped. Grasped in her talon was her sword, still in its sheath and on her sword belt. “I assume you’re here for this?”

“Yes!”

“We are.”

Gella and Celia both spoke at once, and Aversa’s grin widened. “Well now, this won’t do at all.” She gestured to Celia. “This lovely blade goes back to you to serve me as mine, or…” She nodded at Gella “It goes to you when you have secured her as yours.”

“I’m never serving you, Aversa.” Celia said firmly. The fantasies again whispered to her, reminding her of what just looking into Aversa’s gaze could feel like. Just the memory left her feeling flushed. She ignored it and stood resolute.

“Mmmmm, would this be the same never that lasted… oh all of five minutes the night we met?” Aversa teased with a wicked smile. “I can offer you every night wrapped in pleasure, every day spent with my words in your mind. I know you dream about it, Celia. No need to think, no worries, only the bliss that comes from doing as you are told.”

The words didn’t hit her, they wrapped around her. Light as a spiderweb and impossible to ignore. Like a tiny spark, they ignited a tempting heat between her legs. She swallowed hard and turned away from Aversa. A warm hand rested on her shoulder and she looked up to see Gella. Despite the thick blindfold Celia knew that the mage’s eyes were fixed on her. “She has no power over you, Celia. Don’t let her convince you otherwise.”

Gella’s sincere encouragement bolstered Celia from the inside out. She stood straighter and faced the demoness. Even with the blindfold and the runes blocking it she could feel the power behind Aversa’s smoldering eyes. “Give the sword to Gella.”

Aversa looked from Gella to Celia, swaying her tail. “I will, once I am satisfied,” she murmured. “Gella, I’ll hand the sword to her. But I want a moment alone with her.”

“Just a moment?” Celia asked. “What for?”

“I heard you up in Gella’s room. You have a horrible misconception about how my kind feeds. It’s one I aim to correct.”

Gella held Aversa’s gaze for a long moment before turning to Celia. “I’m not going to forbid it. The experience might prove insightful to you, but I won’t force it either.”

It was impossible not to dwell on her night with the demoness. For all its intensity and no small amount of fear, it also felt incredibly good. She found herself considering it. “Just a moment with you?”

Aversa nodded. “A moment alone. You take off the blindfold, step across the barrier, then leave after I’ve had my taste.”

Gella shook her head. “We’re not fools. Aversa. You will do nothing to Celia’s mind or body that lasts beyond the moment she is inside your barrier.”

Aversa grinned at both women. “I give you my word. Nothing I do to Celia’s mind or body will last beyond the moment she is inside this barrier.”

“And you will let her back out the moment I come back inside,” Gella demanded

“Clever mage,” Aversa purred with a wink. “Very well. Additionally I give my word that I will not stop Celia from leaving in any way.”

Celia turned Aversa’s words over in her head looking for any loophole the demoness could exploit. Her use of nothing, was fairly all encompassing, but still the way the Aversa was grinning was unnerving. “Gella, do you see any way she could twist that?”

“You wound me, Celia.” Aversa teased. “I’m a woman of my word.”

Gella was silent with one finger tapping rhythmically on her lips. “I can’t see any way she could,” she finally concluded.

“Off you go then,” Aversa made a shooing gesture. “I don’t want to waste a second,” she said, eyes running up and down Celia’s body appreciatively.

Gella stood defiantly still facing toward Aversa. “I will be right back.” She warned, then turned and left the antechamber.

Celia turned to watch her leave only for Aversa’s soft beguiling voice to pull her attention back. “Take that silly thing off, Celia.” Celia bristled at the command, but pushed past it with a deep breath. Finding the knot at the back of her head by feel, Celia tugged it free and pulled the cloth away. Aversa stood, looking beautiful and tempting as ever, then beckoned the warrior forward with one finger.

The boundary tingled on her skin, making the hairs on her arm stick up for a moment. Then she was beyond the barrier and the demoness was grinning widely at her. “Now,” she breathed sweetly, “look into my eyes.”

Celia expected the same uncontained inferno of desire, the boundless need that scorched her mind clear. Instead the moment she locked eyes with the demoness, she felt the gaze pour over her mind like heated syrup. Her body still lit up, every nerve suddenly awake and feeling so wonderfully sensitive, but it was so much more gentle.

Leathery wings unfurled enough to wrap around the warrior, pulling her and the demoness together into an intimate cocoon. “See? I can be sweet too.” Her rich voice filled her mind, inflaming her imagination. “Kiss me, pretty mortal.”

Nodding numbly, Celia closed the few inches to Aversa’s lips. They were hot, warming her own lips like a mug of tea, and as soft as silk.

Let me in, Celia.

Words as sweet as honey wound around Celia’s own thoughts, coating them in heat and melting them away. They trickled down into a pool of need and desire, tingling between her legs. A scent like mulled spices filled Celia’s nose with every breath, muddling the few scraps of thought Aversa’s voice hadn’t bound.

Strength fled and her inner flame turned a bright needy Crimson. Aversa’s tongue brushed her lips, and Celia had to let her in. The moment she parted their lips, the boiling feeling lessened. Flowing up and out, through the passionate kiss. The passion spent itself in one glorious burst, leaving glowing embers to tanalize Celia. “That, Celia, is how I feed. Doesn’t it feel good?”

Celia nodded. “Felt… good,” she whispered distantly.

The hilt of a blade, my blade, a distant part of her insisted, was pressed into her hand. There was a sharp clang of metal against stone and the tingling feeling felt so much more intense for a moment.

Celia’s thoughts came together slowly, forming together in a slow sticky morass. She was outside the barrier of runes, her unsheathed blade in one hand and the belted sheath in the other. In the back of her mind, the warrior in her scolded her for dragging her beloved blade along the ground and dulling it, and she had to remind herself the sword goes in the sheath for a reason. A few slow confused blinks later she clumsily sheathed her blade as the door opened. Gella’s familiar voice whispered in her ear. “It’s time to go, Celia.”

The mage’s words held Celia rapt. Words she felt so content to obey. She nodded happily, floating along like a leaf on a stream. Gella’s hand lightly tugged, and she obediently followed wherever the mage was taking her.

Gella’s body commanded Celia’s attention while she led Celia heavens alone knew where. The sway of her hips, the shape of her ass, and her imagination was only too happy to fill in the details from the brief glance of Gella’s naked body she had earlier. “You’re so p-prrretty,” she managed, then giggled at how badly she was slurring her words.

“You’re quite pretty yourself, Celia,” Gella told her while they climbed the stairs and emerged into the first floor of the manor. A few more steps and a fresh clean breeze blew from the courtyard. Celia filled her lungs, smiling serenely while the haze of need and desire slipped away a little more with every breath.

Once the world around her grew more solid Celia blinked and stretched as if waking from a particularly pleasant dream. A dream that left her sword heavy in her hand. She drew it, watching the familiar metal gleam in the morning light. Laying the swordbelt at her feet, Celia took a step forward and fell into the familiar forms drilled into her. Each slow swing, every stance she took, they all felt so much better with her blade back in her hand.

Finishing a set of moves, the sound of a single pair of hands clapping broke her concentration. Standing in the early morning sun, looking as pleased as Celia had seen the mage, Gella nodded at her. “Excellent form, my champion.”

The embers Aversa had left were swept up, carried in a whirlwind that made them blaze bright. Not just in desire, but pride and belonging soared in Celia’s chest. A smile as bright and clear as she had under the pink spell’s influence shown to the world, and she nodded to the mage. “Thank you, my Lady.”