Sarlene's Touch Ch. 21

Her clothing was sumptuous, dark leather adorned with black and red silk, her midriff bare, her skirt short over high boots, a decorative bustier emphasising her cleavage. She wore golden earrings, armbands of platinum, and a necklace decorated with sapphires and emeralds.

There was Lady Amloth, leader of a coterie of priests, all kneeling with heads bowed as Zarenis strode in front of them, issuing orders. She raised a hand into the air, forming a fist and creating tendrils of dark smoke from thin air, casually demonstrating some magical power.

She saw a young, naked man, chained to a pillar of stone, eyes filled with awe and wonder as she approached him. He was handsome and muscular, his over-sized cock engorged with desire and glistening with pre-cum as his fascinated eyes watched her undress. He was utterly hers, to play with as she wished.

Reality forced itself back into her perceptions. She was in a treasure room under a villa, and none of this had yet to come to pass. She was still trapped in half-demonic form, not yet able to reform her body to something less distinctive, although she knew now that the change would not be permanent. In order for that future to be hers, she had to escape from this building, taking the censer with her, and use it, not only to allow Amloth to complete her ritual, but to subvert it, using her infernal connections to make the drow her deputy, not her mistress.

It was a lot to take in. She realised that, until that very moment, she had not even known that Amloth wanted the censer for a ritual. Or that everything was being done in the name of an entity imprisoned beneath the city. An entity that she had to set free in order to take her rightful place as Princess and High Pontifex of the demon-city of Haredil. An entity that, from now on, could be the only authority to which she ever need answer. An entity that had planned her very creation and birth.

Zarenis pushed the censer into the bag she had brought to contain it, and ran out of the room and through the cellar. Her head still felt awkward from the weight of the large horns, her movements less certain until she had adjusted to her new form – or learned to suppress it. She needed to get out, to go somewhere where she could not be seen!

She reached the door at the top of the cellar stairs, running out into the corridor that led back to the hallway.

"Hey!" came a shout from behind her, and she whirled to see Horvan standing there at the entrance to the servants' quarters. His eyes went wide and he gasped as he saw her, taking in her terrible visage. She felt anger rise within her, demonic rage beginning to possess her, and shouted wordlessly, her voice sounding strangely distorted, with a distinct tenor tone. The emotion overwhelmed her, and she ran towards the manservant, reaching for her sword as she did so, intending to put an end to him.

He raised a hand, but it was empty of any weapon... no, she realised, he wore a ring. A magic ring, surely, yet not like either of her own. There was burst of glittering light and a glowing white shape sped towards her, too fast for her to dodge. It struck her hard, spinning her around, the protective magic from the ring on her left hand narrowly saving her from serious injury.

The strike brought her back to her senses, her head clearing suddenly. She thumped Horvan with the pommel of her sword, knocking him unconscious, but not killing him. He would, she had realised, be more useful alive than dead. Alive, he could tell the adventurers to look for some large-horned demon with shining red eyes, not for anyone who looked at all human. So long as she could go to ground long enough to restore her former appearance, they would be pursuing a phantom that did not really exist. Their attention would focus on someone who could summon demons, not on anyone like her, and by the time they realised their mistake – if they ever did – it would all be too late.

Leaving Horvan where he had fallen, she ran for the rear entrance, and made her escape.