CHAPTER 29

“Where the hells did she go!?” Celia exclaimed, looking at the suddenly oppressively empty chamber. Whatever magic Aversa had invoked had also banished her furnishings, leaving the three of them standing in a barren domed room.

“I’ll find out. Watch the door, you two,” Gella ordered, and Celia felt the pleasant jolt mingle with her anxiety. All of Aversa’s captives certainly looked healthy, and she had experienced the effects of Aversa’s draining before. That lessened the mortal terror of them getting hurt, but she hardly felt at ease. The gods above only knew what commands and changes Aversa and her minions might be whispering in their ears, and with a small tickle of pleasure she remembered just how fucking good it might feel to be in a position to listen to them.

Glancing behind them, she saw Gella retrieve a crystalline device from her arcane no-space, and began slowly scanning the barren room, leaving Celia’s thoughts to further circle each other. “You’re too tense, Celia,” Violet murmured from beside her. She was about to question just how the elf came to that conclusion when Violet gestured toward the shield’s grip, drawing attention to how Celia was holding it tight enough to scrape the metal.

“Our friends are in the hands of demons, Violet,” Celia hissed back. “Not to mention Damian is still out there.”

“Being tense enough to snap isn’t going to help them,” Violet replied calmly.

Before Celia could indeed snap back, she forced herself to swallow the retort. “I… I just… How can we just stand here?!”

“We’re not doing nothing,” Gella interjected, slipping her device back into her no-space. “We’re gathering information. Besides, she didn’t go far. She’s just upstairs,” she said, gesturing at the door as she took a deep breath. “I suspect that even with all the ragira she managed to claim, crossing the barrier like that weakened her. She’ll need to recover before she can try that again.”

“And she wants to gloat,” Violet added, taking one of Celia’s gauntleted hands in her own. Giving it a comforting squeeze, the elf nodded at the warrior. “We will save the people we love, Celia. One way or another.”

Just as Celia turned to lead the way out, Gella pressed her palm to her forehead and groaned. Without hesitation, Violet and Celia were at her side. “My Lady?” Violet asked, concern just barely creeping past her composed mask.

“I’m running low on ragira, is all,” the mage said, straightening up. “I didn’t rest properly under Aversa’s influence, by design I’m sure,” she said, ruefully. Looking at both Violet and Celia, she shook her head. “This doesn’t change our plan. We hope diplomacy prevails, and if not, I leave the violence in your capable hands, girls.” Violet nodded along with Celia, who was suddenly grateful that her full helmet hid the look of doubt that crossed her face.

________________

In what felt like a blink of an eye, Celia, Gella, and Violet were standing in the foyer of the manor. Something about her home had changed, Celia noticed. The air had a heavy, oppressive feel to it. Straining her ears, Celia couldn’t make out a single sound from the outside world. “She’s erected a barrier,” Gella quietly said. Walking toward the shut grand front door, the silver-haired mage gingerly extended her hand until a faint translucent chain manifested across the door. It pulsed a vivid and dangerous red before the mage rejoined them. “I might be able to break it if I had the time, but Aversa would almost certainly know if I tried.”

“We’re not running,” Celia firmly said.

“Of course not,” Gella agreed. “I’m just keeping track of our options.” She retrieved the arcane device she had produced in the basement and slowly swept the hall with it. “She’s in the living room,” the mage pointed at the closed-off white panel door.

All three women stared at it. Despite their enchanted blindfolds, Celia could see the determined cast on each of their faces. It reminded her so strongly of her old Ravenswood Company companions; a battle to be fought, and the awful calm right before it. Before, with the acidic grip of adrenaline in her muscles and the chaos of battle before her, she would offer a prayer to Daray. And indeed, the opening words of his invocation were already on Celia’s lips before another thought struck her.

“Lady Shala,” she began, earning her confused head turns from Gella and Violet. “Aid us in the battle to come.” She didn’t know the exact words, but calling out to Lauren’s patron goddess just felt much more appropriate than the god of war. “Let us protect your Daughter, let us aid the ones we love.”

“Bolster our resistance to dark powers,” Violet added, placing her hand over Celia’s.

“Restrain those that would bring harm and suffering,” Gella said with a nod, adding her hand to Violet and Celia’s.

“In your name, Lady Shala, we pray,” all three women finished. A sensation, faint as a whisper, once again brushed along Celia’s spine. It sent a pleasant shiver through her, and from the reactions of Violet and Gella, they felt the same way. Then the sensation faded, leaving a tiny, warm ember that drifted into Celia’s inner flame. It flared, bolstering the warrior. Nodding toward the door, Celia strode toward it and forcefully rolled it to the side.

Even with her armor and its enchantments protecting her, Celia could feel the sheer magical power of Aversa’s gaze wash over her. Before, her eyes had been smoldering coals, only briefly igniting into the full inferno of desire. Now though, she blazed like a bonfire full-time.

“Hello again,” the demoness purred, rising from her reconstructed throne and striding toward them. She was dressed in a skintight, shimmering, black gown that only highlighted her figure. The fabric narrowed to a tiny strip between her powerfully built thighs, and every step shifted the bit of fabric to only just expose her sex.

The room had been redone in dark and alluring colors, with scarlet and ebony abound. The comfortable couches and loveseats had been banished, replaced by more haphazard nests of pillows and cushions. Nests – Celia was dismayed to see – that were even more occupied that they had been in the basement. Damian laid naked and looking utterly lost in bliss while Morgan slowly pumped their hand up and down his cock. The same lithe demons from the basement cell coiled around them, whispering into their ears. Both Heralds had a reddish sheen to their eyes.

“Fuck me like the wild man I know you are,” the normally-stoic Johanna’s lusty cry pulled Celia’s attention to where Robert had the older woman on her hands and knees, thrusting into her with enough wild abandon to make her breasts sway widely.

Turning away quickly only brought Celia’s gaze to Eirinn and Tiffany. The couple were together, happily making each other moan and cry while Clara and Electra lay only feet away, likewise lost in each other’s pleasure.

“Do you like what you see Celia?” The demon women asked, mere inches in front of the warrior. Cursing herself for getting so distracted, she brandished her shield.

“You’ve proven your power, Aversa,” Gella said firmly, affecting an almost bored-sounding tone. “Now, what is it you want?”

“Oh, you’re not being any fun at all,” Aversa pouted as she winked and strode back to her throne. Sitting herself upon it with all the dignity of a queen, she spread her arms around at the barrage of sensual activity filling the room. “This is what I want. Desires being met, passions running hot” – she glanced at Damian and Morgan – “fantasies being fulfilled.”

“I gave you all the desire you ever needed, and you were content,” Gella countered. “What changed?”

“Your dear little knight, of course.” Aversa nodded at Celia, who shook her head and moved closer to Gella. “I was… content, yes,” Aversa continued with a conciliatory nod. “I enjoyed being hand-fed for a change, it gave me time to relax away from Pandemonium. Time to enjoy what fascinating mischief you and your mortals got up to.” Her eyes flicked back to Celia and she licked her ruby-red lips. “But then your little knight wandered in. She tasted like cinders and submission, like fear and a downright desperate hope of belonging,” she sighed in apparent memory, making Celia’s skin crawl. “And it was like succulent steak after years of dry grain.”

Gella crossed her arms, affecting disdain even without her eyes being visible. “So all of this” – she gestured to the crowded room – “was because you wanted to hunt again?”

“Oh, you make it sound so base,” Aversa teased. “We all have to heed our nature.” She gestured to the mage. “Some of us are born to command” – she stood up, causing Celia to tense, along with Gella and Violet – “and some of us ache to serve.” With a flourish she gestured, and Clara appeared with a pop of displaced air.

She was naked, her large breasts covered in red lipstick marks while her mismatched eyes bore the same distinctive red sheen as Aversa’s other enthralled victims. Celia found herself rushing forward to stop the grinning woman from casting before Gella even gave the order. “Neul ceo,” Clara’s dreamy voice carried through the room, and Celia braced for an attack on her mind.

Instead, a thick and nearly-opaque cloud of fog billowed up from the floor in a flash. The once-comfortable living room, now transformed into a throne room, was swallowed by a curtain of eerie white. Aversa's haunting laughter echoed from every direction, making it impossible for Celia to pinpoint her enemy's location. In an instant, and without warning, Celia felt a sharp series of taps along her spine. Each tap sent a jolt of energy through her body, despite the protective armor she wore. Panic filled her as she remembered this exact same sensation, but under much different circumstances. Tabby’s fighting style, enhanced with the emerald green energy that flowed through her body.

Celia’s legs buckled, the powerful muscles feeling suddenly limp and weak. She tried with all her might to force herself to stay standing, to withstand the effect of Tabby’s strikes. She managed to only dip to one knee, keeping her front protected with her shield.

“Cuir dheth a’ gheasaibh,” she heard Gella cry out. From the corner of her vision she saw the splitting spears of blue light banish the fog just as her strength returned. She rose to her feet, and stopped dead in her tracks when she came face to face with Lauren smiling sweetly at her.

She was breathtaking, as always. Her alabaster skin glowed in the dim red light, her body a perfect balance of softness and strength. As always, it was her cascading locks of pink hair that truly captivated Celia, like a river of silk flowing down her back. Even her eyes, a mix of pink and red, held a disarming warmth and gentleness.

But as Lauren reached out with delicate fingers towards Celia's chest, the warrior's instincts screamed at her to resist, to push her away, to do anything but stand there frozen. "Don't," she managed to choke out, trying to sound commanding and in control. But it came out as a desperate plea instead.

“It’ll be alright, Celia,” Lauren said, tenderly, while her hand brushed the uncolored metal of Celia’s breastplate.

Distant sounds of shouting, spells being cast, possibly even her name being yelled were nothing but muffled background noise to Celia. She… She needed to be strong, for Lauren and everyone she loved. “I… I don’t want to hurt you,” she said earnestly, the truth of it aching in her chest.

Lauren nodded with an understanding look. “Nobody wants that.”

“Fuaim a bhacadh,” a voice called nearby, and suddenly there was just Lauren’s voice and Celia’s own thundering heartbeat.

Before she could turn around to investigate the sudden silence, she felt someone embrace her from behind. Her body tensed wire tight before she heard Gella’s voice purr, “we only want you to enjoy yourself.” The moment of tension passed, and Celia glanced over to see Gella’s powerful gray eyes. She only glimpsed them for a moment before a gentle but insistent pressure from the mage’s fingertips pushed Celia to look back at Lauren.

“Aversa… Did we…” Celia’s thoughts lagged, adrenaline backwash filling her mind for the moment. Part of her deeply wanted to confirm that Aversa was gone, but… she couldn’t hear any fighting.

“Don't worry, Celia,” Gella purred, her voice like honey. Lauren's nod of agreement was like a comforting embrace, and slowly the tension began to ebb out of Celia's body. Her shoulders slumped in relief as her protective shield was gently lifted away by Lauren's capable hands. "You've done everything I asked of you," Gella continued in her sweet, calming tone. "And I think it's time for your well-deserved reward." Celia's mind immediately jumped to her knighthood, the ultimate symbol of her dedication and loyalty to Gella. She longed to turn and fully embrace her role as Gella's champion, but was softly corrected once more. "First things first, my dear Celia," Gella chimed in again. "Take off that pesky helmet and let Lauren give you a proper kiss." Obeying her words felt like second nature to Celia, and she eagerly complied, feeling a rush of anticipation at the thought of Lauren's touch on her lips.

The metal flowed apart, each tiny individual piece melding seamlessly with the rest of her armor. The scent of sweat, sex, and damp air hit her all at once. Moving through the miasma slowly, Celia embraced Lauren and brought their lips together. It was everything she needed at the moment. Warm lips parted and Lauren’s tongue brushed past hers, inviting her to push further. Her eyes shut, her entire focus shifted to the intimate sensations she was sharing. A fantastic reward, she mused slowly, feeling her body slowly heat up. Desire trickled down her spine, feeling so tempting to just give in and–

A jet of water so cold it stung struck her in the cheek. The comfortable silence shattered and Celia was suddenly thrust back into battle. Groans of pain, clashes of bodies against furniture and above all, Gella’s voice, firm and commanding. “Get your damned helmet back on, Celia!”

The warrior shoved her way free from… From whatever was using Gella’s voice and whirled around. Her hand found the hilt of her sword before her eyes fell on… On an exact copy of the silver-eyed mage. The moment she first met Aversa, and how she had displayed her shapeshifting powers had only a moment to play in Celia’s memory before that selfsame demoness’s eyes blazed with pure lust.

Crimson. An alluring sea of it, as warm as blood and seductive as any forbidden fruit. Celia luxuriated in it, the velvety sensation caressing her body and igniting a primal hunger within her. Aversa, tall and confident and wickedly tempting, beckoned with a single finger and Celia eagerly complied. Ecstasy exploded, searing and intense, drenching her sex and eliciting a moan from her lips.

"Dismiss your armor, my beautiful girl," Aversa purred, receiving an eager nod from the warrior. With a tingling sensation that sent shivers down her spine, Celia's armor vanished into the void between dimensions. She basked in the warmth of the room, savoring the delicious feeling of air on her bare skin. Only Gella's ring, bracelet and necklace remained, shining like precious jewels against her flushed skin. "Now," Aversa began, her commanding voice echoing through the chamber. "Tabby, Lauren, Celia," the beastkin girl quickly joined Lauren and Celia at Aversa's throne, "kneel."

With a conspiratorial grin exchanged between Lauren and Tabby, Celia couldn't help but nod along with them, eager to please. She gracefully knelt down, keeping her knees together and her hands folded demurely in her lap as she looked up with adoration at Aversa. The demoness seemed to glide over to her throne, settling in with an air of regal confidence as she bestowed a benevolent smile upon Gella.

The mage, still in her blindfold, was flanked by Aversa’s lithe demon minions on either side. Violet stood definitely by her side, looking exhausted. Damian, the Heralds and their demonic attendants had retreated further into the room, lost again to their own passions and seemingly outside the notice of either Aversa or Gella for the moment.

Kneeling comfortably with Lauren and Tabby, Celia spared a glance for Gella. She wanted the beautiful woman to know the same endless cascade of bliss and pleasure she felt. Her body ached for it, to kiss and savor every inch of the mage’s body. Violet would submit too, she knew. She would happily stay and play, once Gella let Aversa share with her. It all sounded so perfect.

“Now, Gella,” Aversa began with a gracious nod. “A lesser woman than myself would simply take my spoils. A powerful priestess, a trained monk, a warrior just at the cusp of her skills, not to mention the prize your brother and his troops make.” A tiny worry wedged its way between the waves of need and desire flowing through Celia’s body. That sounded like separating them from Gella. A look between Lauren and Tabby showed that vague unease shared. “But,” Aversa continued knowingly, “I would much rather have you and Lathallen as well.” She stared at the mage across the room. “Surrender. Gaze into my eyes willingly, join your beloved Treasures in bliss.”

“You’re insane if you think I am going to just let you enthrall me,” Gella countered. “You are coming dangerously close to trying my patience, demon,” she continued, her voice growing hard. “Release my girls, now.”

Aversa shrugged casually. “I’m positive you’ll reconsider your limits in a few moments,” She looked down at Tabby and Lauren’s adoring smiles. “Tabby, Violet is trying to keep you from feeling this way, won’t you go help her relax?” The cat-girl nodded dreamily before her whole body seemed to move at once. She launched herself into an elegant backflip, and Celia watched her gracefully land just behind Violet. The grinning monk and Violet quickly shifted to a fight. Gella moved to intervene on Violet’s behalf, only for Aversa to shake her head. “Lauren, sweetheart, Gella is very upset at the moment. She might accidentally hurt Tabby or Violet. Make it so she can’t, won’t you?”

Lauren nodded dreamily, rising up and extending her hand toward Gella. The mage whipped her head toward the throne, hand already in her no space. All Lauren had to do was speak though, and she was quicker to act. “Durcissez,” she said, power lacing the soft word. A brief swirl of yellow light enveloped Gella. She struggled against it, taking another unsteady halting step. Her hand slipped free of the arcane space, clutching a wand. But it was too late. The yellow light seeped into the mage’s body and she collapsed onto the floor.

Violet turned to watch Gella fall then let out a harsh sounding expletive in what Celia could only assume was elvish. The assassin turned to Aversa, fending off Tabby with a brutal-looking kick. Something angry and sharp sliced through Celia’s mind, hearing the grunt of pain Tabby let out. She looked up at Aversa pleadingly. The demoness caught her eye, looked at the duel, and then nodded. “Violet,” she called, commandingly. “Your Mistress is already incapacitated. I know you don’t want this to escalate further and get anyone else hurt.”

The elf stopped and looked over at Tabby, who had quickly bounced back to her feet despite the nasty-looking red mark on her belly that would surely turn into a bruise. Her head turned to Gella, then to Aversa, and finally at Celia. Her daggers slipped from her hands, landing with a metallic clang. Tabby quickly bounced beside the elf, raining light taps along her back. Each tap had a tiny burst of emerald light, then Violet crumbled to the floor as well.

The cat-girl returned to Aversa, beaming and wincing slightly. “Lauren, go ahead and patch Tabby up. You both did magnificently.” Both girls grinned at that before Lauren put her hands over the discolored bruise and began magically healing it. “As for you, Celia, I think you should have the honor of welcoming Gella into the fold.” She beckoned with an enticing smile, one that Celia mirrored even as another razor sharp thought swirled through the Crimson sea.

Honor? That… That wasn’t right. The thoughts made her wince even as she followed Aversa. The demon’s swaying hips were an enticing distraction, her sinuous tail flicking through the little slit in the back of her gown. But even that couldn’t hold her attention for long. Something creaked in her mind, something painful.

Aversa easily lifted Gella, propping her paralyzed body against the wall. “Now Celia, go ahead and remove her blindfold,” the demoness commanded.

Celia’s hand moved toward the back of Gella’s head, slowing to a stop. “What are you going to do?” She carefully asked. Aversa surely just wanted her to feel amazing, like Celia had… Or was…? The Crimson ocean felt more and more turbulent with each passing moment.

“She’s going to look into my eyes and then she will feel just as amazing as you and Lauren and Tabby all feel,” Aversa said, tilting Celia’s face away from Gella to look back into her own blazing red ones.

The fresh influx of pure heated Crimson poured over Celia. It promised untold pleasure, echoes of which were once again driving little pinpricks of delight all over her body. She could swim forever in that ocean of boundless bliss. “Just relax, Celia. Obey. Just a little more and it will all be over.” Celia nodded with a needy sigh. “You and everyone can just drift in bliss together. Won’t that be nice?”

Just drift in bliss together. Gods above, that sounded fantastic. Her imagination filled with endless days spent enjoying herself. Gently waking Lauren up with little kisses all over her body or letting Tabby bring her to the limits of pleasure with just her fingers. She had yet to spend much time with Violet, and was excited to discover just what kind of a lover she was. That left Gella, the woman that… that… served Aversa?

Imagining the silver-haired woman on her knees stunned Celia to her core. It was like imagining a blood-red sky, or flying fish. “I… I can still be hers, right?” She stammered.

Without a word, Aversa settled one hand on Celia’s shoulder and pressed down just enough for the warrior to sink the rest of the way to the floor on her own. Following her to kneel down, Aversa reached behind Gella and undid the blindfold herself. It fell away and Celia saw Gella’s silver eyes boring directly into her own.

The painful creaking intensified into an outright grinding; this was beyond wrong.

The demoness looked up at Celia and a fresh deluge of Crimson drowned the pain and the grinding. Gella’s limp body was cradled against Aversa’s body, spread out for Celia to admire. “Just watch, Celia.” The words wrapped around the warrior, pulling her attention to one careful hand caressing the mage’s face. “Of course you can both play at ownership, I don’t mind,” Aversa cooed, heedless of Celia’s internal struggle. “And it will be so much better, too.”

Fantasies erupted, fed by the Crimson until Celia swore she could feel the pure heat of it trickle down her spine. “She hasn’t shared her body with you, despite what a good girl you’ve been,” Avera’s voice fanned the flames in Celia’s mind, sculpting them into a wickedly enticing image.

One that depicted Gella, standing tall over her. Careful fingers toying with her hair while the warrior knelt on the bedroom carpet. She would be naked, only Gella’s adornments on her skin. The silver bracelet, her magic ring, and the crystalline necklace. Her mind struggled to dress Gella in something appropriate, until Aversa giggled. “She has a midnight black cloak, spilling off her shoulders and setting off her skin and hair.”

“Ho– How?” Celia stammered. The dreamed-up Gella wore the cloak now, and it indeed looked fantastic on her. It contrasted with Gella’s pale skin, giving her a majesty and allure that perfectly brushed that part of her mind that craved to soften.

“A desire this rich, this… Hmmmmm, potent. I can see it just as well as you can, my pretty warrior,” Aversa explained. With an inaudible mutter from the demon, the paralyzed mage was dressed just as her dream version was. Only… Only the eyes broke the spell. Gella in her fantasy was happy, content, and powerful. The Gella in the transformed hall before her was… Another murmur combined with a quick wash of Crimson, and Celia saw Gella’s expression as she hoped it would be. “You can touch yourself, Celia. I know you want to.”

With the demon’s gracious permission, she spread her legs and groaned in delight when her fingers slipped over her skin. Heat radiated off her, droplets of sweat beaded on her brow, and every piece of her begged for more. Toying with her nipple sent shocks through the Crimson, tainting everything that wonderfully dark red color for a moment. She needed this, wanted this.

Slick, gripping wetness welcomed her other hand, her pussy drenched in need. The cry it pulled from her lips was low and guttural, an animalistic satisfaction of something she craved. “That’s right, Celia. This need, your desire to be her perfect champion, all of it and more are at your fingertips,” Aversa’s beguiling, enthralling voice whispered. “But I can give you so much more than that. That little ball of misery in your mind, tucked away behind that door, I know what it is,” she promised. “And I know how to make it all go away. All that pain, all those nightmares. Poof.” She blew a kiss towards the warrior, making her shiver involuntarily. “All gone.”

Gone? Did she want that? She had been overjoyed at the fragments of her past Gella had helped her rediscover. Each day recovered was precious. Would bliss be worth trading that all away? A sharp angry screech shot up from deep in her memories. Something… Something dark and Red and filled with smoke. A memory of a voice threatening something so similar.

Aversa let Gella slump against the wall, crawling behind the warrior while her wings wrapped around Celia. The heat from the demon’s body encircled the warrior in a comfortable cocoon. Hands trailed over her naked body, slowly tracing trails of fire in their wake. “I… What about my memories?” She mewled as Aversa’s fingers found her slick delta.”

Pleasantly hot kisses moved slowly down Celia’s neck. Aversa’s fingers pressed in deeper, curling and hitting just the right places to make pleasure arc along her body. Her free hand wrapped around the dazed, needy warrior’s forehead. That sensation of fingers slipping just under her scalp returned, flavoring the steady pulses of desire with a strange edge that only made her thoughts scatter more. “I wouldn’t dream of touching these precious memories, my sweet girl,” Aversa promised, thumb circling Celia’s clit.

While Celia moaned, helplessly trapped in the Crimson pleasure bathing her body in bliss, Aversa carefully tilted her head to the side. After a particularly deep thrust of her fingers, Aversa’s eyes pulled at Celia, and the warrior eagerly sank into the enthralling light. “Priceless memories of being a loved, dutiful daughter,” Aversa cooed, and Celia could see the farm in her village in her mind’s eye. The simple fulfilling work, the honest unconditional love of her parents, it all gained a rosy sheen in the light of Aversa’s gaze. Worries and cares about them faded, falling away beyond the rosy gleam until the rosy scene was all she could remember.

“Your first kiss with a woman, pretty Natia with her long dark hair,” Aversa continued, slowing her fingers to a leisurely crawl. Memories of stolen moments of romance, the way her heart always soared around her first love, all settled and surrounded by Aversa’s Crimson.

“And all the wonders here, of course,” Aversa whispered heatedly. Desire trickled down Celia’s thigh while her mind eagerly swam through the countless happy moments she’d had since coming to Cair Dwemor. Lauren’s slow, gentle coaxing to experience true surrender to someone that cared for her, and she would eventually come to love in return. Tabby’s urging to shed her inhibitions and simply savor all the joy of sex and pleasure. Crimson light shone on her memories of Violet’s game, and Celia remembered only the submissive bliss of being so enthralled. And Gella, the mage that had seen her for all she could be, cherished her, and…

White hot sensation scoured her mind. Her body shivered, held and supported by Aversa while Crimson sank so deep into her mind. She clenched on tempting fingers, crying out in unrestrained passion. “That’s right, Celia. Happy memories, people that love you dearly, and a powerful woman to serve.” Aversa’s eyes blazed again, shining on Celia’s sated grin. “You serve me, Celia.”

“I serve you, Aversa,” Celia’s own voice repeated unprompted, followed by a trickle of delight that made the warrior squirm against Aversa’s warm body.

A hand grasped her chin and turned her toward Gella’s slumped body. The mage was still dressed in her lovely midnight cloak, looking placidly at them. The more Celia looked, the fuzzier that image got. Then with a twinkle of silver, it vanished to reveal Gella dressed in her armor and glaring daggers at them both.

Gella’s armor… They were in a battle. Aversa… She had enthralled her friends, the women she loved. Celia’s head throbbed with Crimson and Silver. “I… Gella…” Celia tried thinking past the intense powerful need to simply lay against the demoness, to sink deep into her promises. A life of pleasure, of service to Aversa.

Slick, needy desire coursed up from careful fingers working her sex into a molten puddle. Aversa’s voice was so damn tempting. She could have it all. All the women in her life that loved her, and she loved in return. The discordant grinding of separate thoughts was like metal screeching on stone. “I don’t… love you,” she hissed as her body crested a sharp wave of pleasure.

Aversa’s voice was hot and silky, brushing her ear with Crimson. “But you do. You love me, Celia, deeply and passionately.” Each word dripped in Aversa’s power, begging Celia to accept them. Part of her so desperately ached to submit this final time. To sink fully, to let the Crimson flood her entirely. But love… she…

No! Her mind screamed.

No, the demoness hadn’t earned her love. The Silver shone brilliantly in approval, pushing Aversa’s haze further away. Gella had made mistakes, had even scared her at first, but Celia knew that mage loved her. “I serve Gella, not you,” Celia said firmly, pulling away from Aversa and standing defiantly between her and Gella.

“A pity,” Aversa sighed, standing gracefully. “Ceannas.” Aversa’s voice wrapped around Celia’s mind, tempting and rich with magic. She could feel the iron bars and could picture just how powerful they were. Strong and well oiled and… And… And she didn’t have to picture them that way! She tensed and focused hard on the bars, imagined them glowing red hot, softening and melting into slag. The spell faltered and sputtered. Shutting her eyes tight she rushed forward and punched with all her might.

Aversa stumbled backwards with her long, red hair whipping around her face as she let out a guttural growl. Celia's heart raced in her chest and her inner flame blazed hot, consuming all other thoughts and fears. Her eyes clenched shut as she unleashed a flurry of punches. The impact of her fists against Aversa's skin sent jolts of pain up Celia's arms. The demon's sharp claws dug into her skin, drawing blood, but Celia barely registered the pain. She screamed out, drowned out by the pounding of her own heart in her ears.

With another burst of strength Aversa threw Celia backwards, sending her crashing against the hard floor with a dull thud. The room spun around her as she struggled to catch her breath while her body trembled with both exhaustion and determination.

She needed… She needed something. She wasn’t a bare knuckle fighter. She had trained in armor. Her armor, where was her armor? The feeling of thousands of tiny pieces of metal slithering over her body answered that. She could see now, she could fight.

Aversa's figure glided across the room, her movements fluid and graceful as she leaned in to whisper something in Lauren's ear. A surge of anger fanned her inner flame to incandescence. Suddenly, something inside her broke, setting off a torrent of power that flooded through her body like molten steel. The air around her thickened with smoke and cinder, igniting a blazing inferno within and without. Aversa stood over there, tauntingly out of reach. Celia knew she needed to end this now. She may not have her blade, but she had fire coursing through her veins. In this moment, she was fire personified.

And she surged.

One moment she stood, locked in place, the next her body was a blur of movement. A blast of intense heat engulfed her right hand, causing her skin to tingle and her senses to heighten. Fire crackled and danced in her palm, forming a pulsating column that matched the size of her sword’s blade. Though it flickered and threatened to dissipate, Celia held onto it tightly. She knew it would only last for a brief moment – just long enough. With determination, she plunged the fiery weapon toward Aversa's chest.

A glittering spider web of threads sprung from Aversa’s splayed hands. They wrapped around the rippling fiery blade, holding it a finger’s width above her breast. Whatever the demoness said: a spell, a threat, or even a plea, went unheard by the warrior. The torrent of power refreshed, the blade of flame searing away the enchanted threads holding it from its mark. A final thrust and the blade pierced Aversa’s chest.

The demoness let out a deep, guttural cough, spewing flecks of dark, viscous ichor onto Celia's gleaming armor. The cloying scent of spices and desire filled the air as the demon's flesh began to smoke from the intense heat of the embedded fire. With a final defeated groan, the demon collapsed in a heap at Celia's feet. As she watched, the room around them seemed to warp and twist, the remnants of the demon's power fading away. From the corner of her vision, she watched the rest of Avera’s demonic entourage simply vanish. Then, with a last lingering laugh, the demon’s eyes went glassy and her body went utterly still.

Celia burned. Power flowed through her, smoldering after the intense flare but still very much there. Magic hummed, so much louder than before. The gentle reassuring hum of Gella’s spellwork was now a discordant drone, shattered and unorganized. Above it and all around it was that loud new hum, and it felt… familiar.

“Celia?” A cautious gentle voice asked. Whipping her head around Celia saw Lauren standing and looking incredibly confused. “What… What happened?”

“You did something to Gella, something magic.” She remembered the word, the soft sounds of divine magic made even softer by Lauren’s dreamy tone.

“Oh my goodness!” Lauren practically ran to Gella, undoing her magic as she went.

Without Aversa, the living room had completely shifted back to the comfortable space it had been. Damian and the rest of the Heralds with him were standing up and looking around bewildered, Tabby had sprung to her feet, along with Violet. Celia stood still, feeling an enormous potential burn inside her. Her inner flame sputtered, flaring bright as the sun before suddenly turning Red and angry, then to an almost Blue tower of fire.

“Damian, we’re going to need your medicine chest,” Gella’s voice, firm and confident, caught the attention of everyone in the room. “And get some of the robes from your Grotto. I think everyone will feel a little better with some clothes on.”

“Right,” Damian replied, gesturing to the rest of the Heralds. “Clara, Electra, you search the house, find whoever isn’t with us. Johanna, Robert, you get the chest. The rest of you are with me to get some damned clothes.” They all marched out, save Damian who walked up to Gella and frowned. “Spark, I–”

“Later, please,” Gella interrupted him, wrapping her arms around herself. “Just… give me a minute with my girls. Please?” She pleaded. Damian glared at her for a long moment before nodding and hurrying off to join his troops.

That left Violet, Tabby, Lauren, and Gella. “You did it,” Gella said, happiness welling beneath the fatigue in her voice. “My wonderful knight, you saved us all.”

Pride bloomed, washing through the chaos Celia felt. She was anxious and exhausted, tense as a wire while her mind chaotically leapt from thought to thought. Raising her hand, she clenched her fist. Staring at it like it was the very first time, she examined every inch of her gauntlet. It felt different now, the magic underneath the metal sounding… similar to herself. Gella was approaching her, a bright smile on her lips.

A desperate longing overcame Celia, consuming her mind and body. She could think of nothing else but holding Gella in her arms. In a single fluid motion, her armor flowed back into the magic ring on her finger, leaving her bare skin exposed to the cool air. The sudden temperature difference made her aware of just how drenched in sweat she was.

Before she could collapse into Gella's loving embrace, a faint cracking noise caught her attention. Her gaze fell upon the crystal pendant that Gella had crafted for her, which now glowed red hot. With a sharp snap, the pendant split in two, the last remnants of Gella's spellwork fading away with it.

Celia was a veteran of pain. She had endured bruising blows, deep cuts, piercing wounds, scorching burns, and even electric shocks. But none of those could compare to the agony that erupted in her head at that moment. It was as if every nerve in her body was simultaneously set ablaze by a merciless inferno. Her whole being convulsed uncontrollably as violent tremors ripped through her, each one feeling like a stab from a knife dripping with hatred.

Her body weakened from the searing pain, she collapsed to her knees, unable to bear the weight of her own suffering. A wave of vomit surged up from her gut, but she barely registered it amidst the all-consuming torment. The pain was no longer just heat or flame – it transcended mortal limits and became its own entity, burning with a pure ferocity that defied reason. It crackled and snapped with malice, filling the air with the acrid stench of charred flesh.

As Celia writhed on the floor in agony, she started to lose her sense of self. Her name, her likes, her aspirations all melted away, replaced by echoes of the names of the dead, her failures, and guilt. The sense of safety she’d come to adore at Cair Dwemor gave way to mortal terror, and her optimism for the future became white hot, resigned despair. Celia faded into that misery more and more, as she ceased to be anything more than a vessel for boundless pain.