The Squire and the Succubus (P)

If you break shit.

People who own that shit get mad.

It hadn't been even hard to get Dart to explode the entire city block!

All feelings of self congratulation died in her breast as she saw Vecna walking towards her. His single palm reached out, and his tone was flat. "The Stone," he said.

"N-No," Sam said, tucking the stone's pouch into her belt, then sliding her surcoat so that it covered it partially. "This is my home plane's Apocalypse Stone. I'm putting it back."

Vecna breathed in – then breathed out. "Let me be very clear. I have waited more than two thousand years to return to Greyhawk, ever since that..." His teeth ground against one another. "That...god kicked me out." He clenched his fingers, then unclenched them – slowly spreading his palm, as if it was a calming gesture. "Gygax said that he wouldn't let me return. Something about upsetting the balance. Gods play all sorts of games – and those who are too powerful get shunted here. To the Multiverse, where anything can happen and there is always something stronger."

Sam gulped, slowly.

"So, you will give me the Stone, or I will kill you. And do not doubt my precision nor my skill. It will be very easy for me to narrow the effect down to your heart." His finger prodded the air, aimed right at her chest.

Sam's hand went to her blade. She drew it from her scabbard once more – having tucked it away to make it easier to fly.

She drew the blade with a snick. She held it to her chest as Vecna's fingers clenched. His voice spoke a gutteral, complex spell. Black runes flickered around his body as he whispered and called on the darkest powers of the most vile, arcane arts. She whispered, softly. "Blade with whome I have lived – with whome I now die. Serve right and justice once more. Seek one last heart of evil. Still one last life of pain..." She clenched her palm on the blade, then – as if moving through mud, her body moving with aching slowness – she started to run forward.

"Cut once more!" she snarled, her wings flaring. She pumped them and shot forward – but time seemed to have stilled at the nexus of magic that Vecna was drawing around himself. His palm spread and his eye flared.

Then his eye widened.

The spell discharged.

Struck the blade.

Reflected into the air.

Then the sword-tip plunged into Vecna's heart.

It sank in deep enough for the hilt to bump against his breastbone.

Sam stood there, her eyes wide. The litch looked down at the blade piercing through his heart. Then he looked up at her. His hand closed around the hilt, squeezing the blade that had transfixed him.

"That. Hurt." His dessicated lips drew back into a wicked grin. His single surviving eye flared with a demonic light. "But I don't have a heart anymore, girl."

Sam squeaked and then slammed her forehead into Vecna's. The ancient litch staggered backwards and hit the ground – the blade pulsing through his chest. She turned and sprinted away as fast as she could. Her wings pumped and she grabbed onto Vela, who emerged from hiding to spread her arms. Sam held Vela to her chest and shot into the air. Behind her, a darkness was gathering. Looking down at Vela, Sam hissed: "What do we do!?"

"Uh, I don't know! Look for a portal!"

Sam nodded, craning her head around. Her eye focused into those of an eagle and she tried to spot a portal. Any portal.

The darkness behind them crackled with black lightning.

Sam's wings pumped and Vela shouted. "There! I see someone waving – it's Sir Albus' pennant!"

Sam's eyes widened. She looked where Vela had pointed and saw that she was right: A tall, white figure was waving a pole with the familiar heraldic symbol flapping at the end of it. Sam pumped her wings harder and harder as the darkness lifted out of the alleyway. A vast green skull emerged from it – fanged and howling. It shot forward, flying towards them, mouth opened wide. Howling. Screeching. It left behind a trail of green flames and Sam knew, just knew that it was causing exactly zero damage to anyone else in Sigil. And she had no sword to knock it aside now.

Her wings burned.

The screeching was getting louder.

Harp – the white figure – had already sprang through the portal. No fool her.

The screeching became louder still. Sam felt her feet tingle.

Then she was at the portal.

She shot through, banked upwards, and held Vela tight to her chest to avoid braining the other woman on the side of the castle window that was at the end of the corridor. The window was wide enough for Sam and Vela. It was not wide enough for Sam's wings. The crunch of the two wings being folded backwards, against their joints, was loud enough for Sam to hear it over the beating of her heart. Thankfully, the pain didn't actually register at first as her wings fluttered uselessly. She was sailing towards the moat, which glittered brightly.

It was very pretty.

Sam hit the water face first and darkness came afterward – washing away the pain and everything else.

###

Sam opened one eye.

Sir Albus looked down at her.

A living Sir Albus. Every inch of him looked alive – from the pimple on his nose, to the ruddiness of his cheeks, to the fact that he had shaved the left side of his face slightly worse than the right and hadn't bothered to do a second sweep with his razor. He was even wearing the normal, rumpled jerkin that he favored when he wasn't gussied up for some ball or another.

Sam groaned quietly, then threw her arm over her head. It had all been a dream.

All of it.

Harp, the two Hound Archons, the drow girls – really, Albus having his own personal harem? What the hell, subconscious? - her being a succubus. No, that was just too pat wasn't it? She was just an irredeemable, horrible slut. No excuses for her...her...

Sam drew her arm back.

Her arm was bright red.

"It wasn't a Albus vision," Albus said. "Or as some laypeoples call them, dreams. Scoffications. I discovered the sleeping brain pictures, I should get the credification for their taxidemological naming."

"But-" Sam sat up, her blankets slumping to her lap, her wings spreading wide in shock behind her. "You died!"

"I was raised from the dead!" Albus scoffed.

Sam opened her mouth.

Closed it.

Then her cheeks turned bright red. "Oh."

"Forgot that we could do that with magic, did you?" Albus scoffed.

Sam walked from his room, wearing a simple white shift, her skin shifted to a pale pink, her wings and her tail tucked away. Albus walked with her – his arms crossed over his chest. He smiled at her as they walked through the courtyards of the palace. The sun shone brightly, and birds tweeted in the air. The sky was brilliant blue and Sam couldn't see a cloud up there. She smiled slightly. Perfect weather for flying.

"And so, Harp detected the portal, and opened it – believing that helping you would help us," Albus said.

"Wait, how?" Sam asked. "I thought this plane was drifting off course!"

"Well," Albus said, shaking his head. "According to the high wizard, the portal that you left open had enough of a connection for it to be yankified apart via applications of force. It twas only temporary, though."

"Good," Sam said.

"So, where is mine blade?" Albus asked as they came to the gilded doors leading to the throne room. Sam froze, blinking very rapidly.

"Uh, hilt deep in Vecna," she said, slowly.

Albus snapped his head around – glaring at her. His eyes glinted and his brow furrowed as he leaned slowly forward. His nose almost bumped Sam's temple. He breathed slowly in, sniffing at her. Then...he nodded.

"You're telling the truth," he said.

Sam ducked her head forward, blushing furiously. She was about to apologize – but Albus ruffled her hair with one hand.

"I have never before been more proud of you, Samantha," he said, quietly. "Now, come on. The King, the Court, your parents, they're all here for this."

Sam blinked. "Here for-" she stopped. She may have not known a single thing about the Outer Planes or arcane magic, or the difference between T'narri and Baatezu. But she should have been able to recognize the traditional vestments of the God of Restraint. The single white shift, the bare feet, the only thing missing was-

Albus put a small golden circlet around her head, then pushed her through the doors. She squeaked as she saw the entire court surrounding the throne. Her father and her mother waved at her – though her father looked somewhat mystified, as if he was trying to figure out how this had happened. Her siblings all jeered at her before being shushed by their nannies and teachers. The other nobles looked as if they were trying to restrain their gapes – several girls were whispering to one another, while several men were trying to look like they weren't thinking about what was under her shift. Sam gulped, creeping forward, her hands pressed together, her heart hammering.

King Gideon Alfrect looked down at her as she curtsied before him.

"Squire Samantha of Lilinkinder," King Gideon said, standing up and looking down at her. "You have saved the Kingdom – nay, the world. You have faced great evils, and bested a wickedness within your own breast. You are everything that a Paladin of God should be and can be in this world. And so I, as your Liege and as your King, pronounce you...Lady Samantha of Lilinkinder."

His sword rasped as he drew it – tapped the flat to her shoulders.

"And now, as a knight, you can seek to uphold the code of the paladins and one day be declared a true paladin – though rest assured, I have no doubt that you will do accomplish such a task with ease," King Gideon said.

Sam gulped, her head spinning. This was so unexpected. She stood up, her knees shaking.

"Now," King Gideon said. "Do you have anything to say to the court."

Sam turned to face them. She considered everything that had happened since her adventure began. The mistakes she had made. The dangers she had faced. But more, she thought about good and she thought about evil. Was evil really to be found in the pleasure of laying with another person? Was goodness to be found in severing such connections? She shook her head slowly, wonderingly. No. She hadn't conquered an evil inside of herself. Her being part-succubus had given her the wings to fly, the shifting to find, the endurance to move...and the lust and the connection she had felt with all of her lovers in the adventure had given her the strength to push forward.

She smiled. "I am not ashamed of myself," she said. "Of what I am."

In the back of the court, she saw Sir Albus making frantic hand gestures at his throat. Her brow furrowed. What did that mean?

"I am not merely the first female Knight in decades," Sam said. "I am the first half-succubus and that's-"

"She's a WHAT!?" One of the nobles exclaimed.

Father looked at Mother. Mother coughed, then exclaimed. "It was my bachelorette party!"

Her oldest brother, Servin, grinned. "Nice."

"Guards!" The King bellowed, staggering away from Sam as if she had turned white hot. "Seize her!"

Sir Albus slapped his palm over his face.

Sam turned bright red. Guards advanced from every corner, halberds gleaming in the sunlight that shone through the skylight that brought the noonday sun to court every day. Sam looked around, her wings growing from her back, tearing her shift off and leaving her, once more, buck naked. Several male nobles were shoving one another aside to get a better look. One noble woman fainted, her fan over her face. A few others looked more interested than the men.

"Bugger it all," Sam hissed.

The halberds drew closer.

Her wings beat and she shot upwards through the skylight, leading the way with one arm to avoid getting gashed too badly. Screams came from below – but looking down, she saw that most of the glass had landed harmlessly on the ground. Archers swarmed on the roof and Sam desperately beat her wings. She soared away...

And despite herself, she laughed.

No matter what the King said, no matter what the court gossips said, she was who she was.

She had also been right.

It was a lovely day for flying.

Sam the Succubus – a squire no more – soared towards the horizon.

And towards adventure.

THE END

Sam the Succubus will return in THE KNIGHT AND THE GNOLL.