《Tales From Mirthland: Girl Meets Devil》Girl Meets Devil: Chapter 5
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Ozaika made clear to both Tabri and Damné that a Patron's Pact must be made in private. Only the Patron and their Pledge could be present. Otherwise, she had been vague on what the ceremony entailed. That would be up to the Patron, she told them. As said Patron, Damné took the lead. In his quiet, calculating mind, he planned the whole affair without telling a word of it to Tabri. Her first clue came two days following Alinka's arrival at the Witchfolk's village.
Unlike any other morning, she awoke and didn't find her devil beside her. He had left her a note detailing when and where to meet him. Upon reading his chosen rendezvous, Tabri understood his plans. She departed their hut in the early hours of dawn, when both sun and moon still hung in the sky, and passed through the cordon of walls, wards, and totems. The thought of the Fiend attacking did occur to her, but she dismissed it. She had the sense that nothing so foul would happen on this morning.
Ethereal shafts of white light pierced the Old Wood's gloom, glittering off fresh dewdrops. The whole of the forest appeared awash in soft diamond gleam. In the distance, the song of a running river rang in her ear. Dressed in naught but a loose white linen dress and flower crown, Tabri strolled barefoot through the refreshed ancient coppice. Moss tickled her soles. Though Damné had set a time, she was in no rush. She doubted he would mind.
He didn't, in fact, when she arrived at his meeting place. Tabri couldn't help but smile at his choice. They would make their Pact in the same cave where they met, seven years before. The same place they both found new homes in new companions. No other place could be so fitting. Decorated with strands of wildflowers, even the dingy hollow seemed brighter in the morning haze. Damné waited just inside, tilting his head up when he spotted her approach.
"I knew you would understand," he said.
"Oh Damné, this is beautiful."
"Not as beautiful as you, Tabri."
She blushed.
"I like your flower crown."
"Thank you," Tabri said. "Alinka made it for me when I told her we were doing this. She didn't quite grasp what a Patron's Pact is, but said I should look my best nonetheless."
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"Well my compliments to her work."
The girl and her devil stepped into the cave, faced each other and clasped hands. Their gazes met, Tabri's deep and soulful gold eyes staring into Damné's empty holes. Though she saw nothing but his blue blaze beyond them, the love in his expression was clear as a cloudless sky. Not even the height difference made the two appear ridiculous.
"So how do we go about this Pact?" Tabri asked.
"I'm not certain. I think I may be the first Fiend to ever make one. But I do have some ideas."
Damné lifted a trinket from around his neck.
"I had the Coven Mother craft this for me to give to you. An amulet, the same as mine, enchantment and all."
The devil pressed a rune carved wolf tooth necklace into Tabri's palm.
"I hope you will accept it."
Curling her hand around the gift, she held it next to her heart. "Of course I will Damné."
Gently, she placed the rawhide thong around her neck, letting the amulet rest on her breastbone. Within the simple token, her devil's love smoldered and warmed her skin.
"I... I feel like we should say some special words or something,"
"Very well."
They clasped hands again.
Damné began. "Tabri. By accepting my gift, I accept your pledge in return. I will be your Patron, I will grant you access to the higher realms of magic. I promise to provide for you, and to remain with until the end of my immortal life. Do you accept?"
"I do."
The young spellcaster blushed. Her turn.
"Damné. I thank you for accepting my pledge. I promise to keep a Sabbath for you, and give you my love in exchange for your own. As a spellcaster, I promise never to do anything that will bring shame or dishonor to our names. I promise to remain with you until the end of my mortal life, and afterward if the gods are kind. Do you accept?"
"I do."
The moment the vows left their lips, a breeze blew through the Old Wood. It swept by them, carrying an electricity that sparked and tingled on their flesh. The wind swirled into a miniature cyclone in the cave's mouth, sweeping up the dead leaves, and dissipated just as swiftly, leaving behind an old vellum scroll on a rough table, quill and ink standing by.
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"Did you summon that?" Tabri asked her new patron.
He shook his head. "No, this wasn't my doing."
The quill dipped in the two's direction.
"I think it wants a signature," said Damné.
"No. It wants both of ours."
Her devil went, "Oh" in understanding. They had made a magical contract, and that was no small thing. It needed to be official.
As Patron, Damné went first. Black ink dripped from the quill's tip as he signed his name. The only name he'd ever known, the one his beloved gave him. He pricked his thumb and pressed it next to his signature, leaving an oval scorch mark. Tabri did the same, pressing a bloody thumbprint alongside her name.
Then just as suddenly as they appeared, the scroll, table, and quill vanished into the ether once more.
"So our Pact is now official?" asked Tabri, knowing the answer already.
"I suppose so."
The girl and her devil were left alone in the woods, the great anticipation deflating. They looked to one another, neither sure how to proceed from there. Some form of release was needed. Tabri, almost by reflex, obliged.
She leaned down and kissed Damné on the lips. Though surprised at first, he soon returned in kind.
Magic ignited at this expression of love, and power surged between their bodies. Sparks spilled from their mouths as they released their kiss. Everything tingled as mystic energy crackled through their veins.
"Tabri, what is this sensation?"
Damné stared at his hands in amazement as a weak glow enveloped them. Tabri looked at her own and found them glowing too.
"I think it's our contract," she said, "This is the magic from the initiation of our Pact."
"Goodness, this is extraordinary. It tastes so pure, so rich. The flavor is once in a million!"
Stunned by the spectacle, Tabri gasped. "Damné, you're changing!"
Before her eyes, the devil metamorphosed from his stout simian stature into the form of a fully-grown man. Not a dwarfish witch male either, but a strapping human man. Twin horns curled up from his eyebrows and over his hollow head, like a grill over an open flame. Still more ornament than functional anatomy, Damné's wings spread out into broad sweeping blades. Last, a thin spade-tipped tail spiraled out from the small of his back.
Regarding his changed form, he gave only the mildest reaction. "Hmm, curious." His glance turned to his new pledge and drew a shocked gasp. "Tabri, you are changing too!"
Astonished, the young spellcaster checked her own body. Damné had spoken true. Her skin had transformed color, turning an ash gray. Hiking up her loose dress, she rushed to the nearby brook to examine herself more closely. Her ears had pointed and her canine teeth had sharpened into near fangs. The water's reflection showed thicker eyebrows, wilder hair, and a strange symbol on her forehead that wouldn't rub off.
"Do you recognize this?" she asked her new Patron, pointing to the mark.
"I believe that emblem is my name written in Fiendish. Tabri, what are these changes? What caused them?"
"Our Pact. Stronger magic is already flowing into us."
Closing her eyes, Tabri reached out through the ether. She sensed her and Damne's auras tethered together now, like two soap bubbles merging into one yet remaining separate. Through the gentle tug, power flowed between them.
That power swelled in her. She felt stronger, feral and liberated. Her muscles belied an increased stamina. An urge to run off like a wild beast filled her.
"This is incredible," she said. "I never expected it to feel like this."
Clenching and unclenching his fists, Damné said, "I know. If I'd have stayed in the Fiendlands, it would have taken a thousand visited cruelties for me to become this powerful." Two cyan fireballs burst to life in his palms.
"We should celebrate."
"What were you thinking?"
Tabri answered with her actions. She slipped her linen dress from her shoulders, letting it fall useless to the ground, took Damné's hand and led him to the back of their cave.
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People know of the Summoning Ritual: it brings the greatest of heroes in a new world to defeat the evil at the horizon! High and mighty adventurers, guardians of light, here to defend the oppressed humanity from their despicable foes. But what if the plea, the 'desperate' call for help, was met with contempt and disdain ? What would happen if the ritual fails? What horrid things could come out of a botched ritual? A man can personify the most feared beast known of man while being the sole hope of the kingdom. Emotions can cloud even gods judgement. Balance of power if a fragile thing, oaths and scorn can disturb it easily. This is the story of Fafnir as he has to survive his new life. But things are not always as they appear." i want to thank mejinzs for his gift of cover art, and both rouge and mejinzs for the proofreading support and rouge for the help with the abstract R15+ for violence... i guess and possible strong language... i guess (doing this as a better safe than sorry sort of deal.) now posting on my blogspot site as well (https://talesoftheforgottenslayer.wordpress.com/)
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