Spellbound Ch. 05

Things will never quite be the same for the succubus, and tremendous upheavals in her life and knowledge are in her future.

Special thanks to volunteer editor stbkvln, whose continued support and recommendations have fleshed out the setting, and corrected an unnamed number of silly mistakes.

***

Chapter 5

When Maira woke, it was nearly midday. She'd barely shifted an inch through the night, and her joints were stiff and cold. The rain, still collected on her skin, had washed away the horrid scents of the past week.

A tiny redwing finch hopped within reach, tilting its head this way and that. Loud cheeps from its pinched beak seemed to convey concern for her motionless form. Typically, the songbird's melody was the first to greet the morning light, and Maira was always glad to be woken by it. Had it missed her songs, as it would another finch's? But then she shifted, feeling droplets of rain trace paths down her skin, and the little bird flitted away.

Maira pushed herself up, wet hair clinging to her cheeks, and felt an intense hunger rake its claws through her. She moaned. She'd never felt so ravenous. Though she would've preferred to take her time, it drove her to action.

She teetered to her feet and tread carefully, casting out her senses. Thankfully, it didn't take long. A mile to the east, a lone farmer tilled his small field. She called to him, her voices timid and urgent, and closed the distance. The man followed suit. He ran to her.

With no patience for seduction, Maira hid in a thicket while continuing her song. When the hardy, plainly-dressed farmer came within reach, she pounced. They tumbled into a patch of willowy ferns, and Maira began to rip his clothes off. Her song dissolved into animistic snarls, for she hadn't the energy or time for enchantment.

The farmer fought, but she overpowered him easily. He screamed and struggled, but she held him. The thick flora tangled his legs, and she pinned him down with a forearm across his collarbone. Her other hand held his wrists. Absolute fear stared up at her through wide brown eyes. Her need was too great to take notice.

She slipped herself onto his cock, and felt it harden fully within her. The man's screams were mingled with confusion, and his eyes rolled back. Thankfully, there was no one nearby to hear his calls for help.

It didn't take long.

When his thrashing form curled, panting, she felt his desire flow into her. She reveled in it with a high pitched moan, and a smile on her face. The shock, fear, and confusion of her prey was also apparent in their union. She finished quickly, and mercifully put him to sleep.

She hadn't the energy to drag him back and find a new set of clothes. He would of course be able to deduce what had happened when he awoke, but she removed his memories out of kindness for his sanity. Better that he forget the fear. Better that he forget her entirely.

Though he could not hear, Maira thanked him. He had been generous.

***

Maira continued walking well past sunset, listening to the forest come alive with a second set of creatures. Insects and birds called to one another. A distant pack of wolves began a hunt. She watched a moonbeam strike through the canopy to reach a patch of flowers, stealing their color. Their scent mingled with the moist earth they slept upon.

Maira continued walking, attempting to clear her head, but a sense of worry and dread dogged her steps. In the fading light, her vision began to play cruel tricks. Despite the forest's growing pallor, she kept thinking she saw a purple glimmer through the trees. She caught a whiff of oiled leather on the wind. Heard a distant whistle.

Her present-minded nature was unable to cope with the constant worry. Awful memories came with it, and she hadn't the capacity to dispel them. Would that she could make herself forget what had happened to her.

In some twisted way, the forest no longer felt safe. She kept imagining she would see a horse and cart waiting for her over the crest of the next hill, or awaken bound if she stopped to rest.

So, against her own instincts, she altered her path towards a nearby town. It stank of human activity, but that seemed comforting somehow. Multiple sets of eyes on the lookout, and strange societal norms to prevent prying. She pondered the implications for a full minute as she walked, trying to think through any negative ramifications of attempting to blend in with humans. She couldn't fathom any.

***

She broke into a small house whose occupants were already asleep, and stole a simple dress and travel cowl to cover herself. Maira then plaited her hair as she walked, tucking it into her clothing and drawing up the hood. She wandered, her steps cautious, on hard-packed dirt roads. The town was spacious and well-lit, even at night. It might've seemed cheery to a human. Spring flowers adorned the windowsills of larger shops and houses, and several open-air establishments were still open.

A nearby two-story building thrived with activity, the bright fabric walls billowing in the cool breeze. A patch of her favorite wildflowers grew near the entrance. Maira considered it a good omen; the tiny white blooms were healthy and untrodden. A heavy wooden sign overhead was freshly painted with curly script, and an image of the moon. She pushed past the heavy curtain at the entrance to a large room humming with activity and dim light.

Two musicians filled the air with plucked strings and a humming woodwind, while a dancing girl rang finger cymbals in time. The flowing silks of her skirt caught the light, and her heavily beaded bodice shimmered with every movement. She drew all eyes towards her, such that only a few spared a glance for the shy woman who entered.

Maira had a moment of alarm,unsure of what to do. Was she expected to approach someone to ask permission to be there? Speak some ritualistic phrase? Her eyes darted about the room, looking for a cue, when someone suddenly pushed past her on their way in. He spoke a remarkably rude phrase on the way by, then settled onto a bench at one of the many long tables. No rituals, no interactions.

Imitating him, Maira slipped to an empty bench with her back to a wall, and observed. The room was abuzz with a dozen different activities. Humans ate, drank, laughed, sang, or rolled dice. She had trouble focusing on any particular one for long. This must be a meeting point for several different aspects of socialization, as it didn't seem particularly organized. And humans prided themselves on their silly organization.

The one constant was an older, rotund woman moving among the groups. She served food and drink, laughed at their remarks, and occasionally disappeared into a side room. Maira kept an eye on her while planning her next move. Perhaps if she picked out the strongest-looking ones, she could follow them back to wherever they slept. That should make for a well-protected location.

But she hadn't the time to pick them out before the portly woman approached her. Her smile was wide and genuine.

"Something to eat, dear?" she asked. Her speech reflected a lack of both education and status, the accent slightly difficult to understand. But her voice was strong and authoritative.

"No, thank you," Maira said quietly, avoiding her gaze. But the woman did not leave.

"Something hot to drink, then? I've some spiced sweet draughts, just in from Edinran." Maira looked up, and was about to respond when she was interrupted. "Dear me, child! You look scared half to death. What's got you so frightened?" Her smile disappeared and was replaced with concern. The worry in her voice was true enough to give Maira pause.

"I'd rather not speak of it," she replied, hoping to shoo her away.

"Oh, you poor thing. Wandering in here without any supplies or proper clothing? And I don't recognize you; must've come from the next town over, at least." Damn. Maira had forgotten several critical details of looking the part. "Whatever you've fled, it must've been dreadful to make such a pretty thing so shy. Stay here, I've just the cure." And she was gone without waiting for a response.

Maira scanned the room with a keen eye, passing over lesser humans and picking out potential threats. Almost all were focused on their own companions or the dancing girl, but a few were casting glances in her direction. She noted that it was a diverse group, and many were remarkably attractive. Several may have fallen prey to her, had she the appetite for them.

The kind woman returned with a large blue tankard, its paint faded and chipping, and placed it on the table. A sweet, floral scent curled upward on a cloud of steam.

"Spiced elderberry juice from the market up north," she said proudly. "Get some of that in you, and I'll be back shortly." She clapped a thick-skinned hand on Maira's shoulder, and left again. Her protest died in her throat.

From beyond her retreating back, one of the humans caught her eye. He was strikingly handsome; the remainder of the room seemed dim in comparison once she'd focused upon him. He had a woman on each arm, and all three laughed at something he'd said. A sharp nose and cheekbones offset soft, full lips - lips which seemed most naturally suited to a wide smile. His hair tumbled nearly to his shoulders in dark waves, and a close-cropped beard gave him the look of a nobleman who had the luxury for upkeep of such things. His sharp eyebrows threw his eyes into shadow, and would've made his expression fierce if not for the smile.

His eyes wandered, and met hers; her core hummed at his presence. They sized each other up for several seconds while he grinned. He then raised his wine glass and inclined his head in her direction, and took a sip. Maira hadn't the faintest idea what that could mean. She was tempted to mirror his action with her own tankard, but decided against it. She wanted to pass from his thoughts as quickly as possible. Against her own desires, she averted her gaze.

She wasn't sure what to make of him. Threat or no, there was something different. It had piqued her curiosity and niggled at her instincts. But she hadn't the time for curiosities at the moment. She sipped from the tankard, appreciating the warmth and bold flavor. Sour, sweet, and heavily spiced, it was exactly the kind of novel delight she occasionally indulged in when travelling.

The woman returned, this time with a plate of hot food, and settled herself onto the bench to Maira's left.

"Here you are, dear. Eat that and you'll feel better." A rabbit haunch and leafy greens warmed her face where they sat steaming before her, smelling of salt and rosemary. "Call me Aunty," she said, "everyone else does. What was your name, dear?"

She thought for a moment, formulating her response. "Gelya," she answered quietly. It was close enough to her true name. She stole another glance at the smiling man across the room, losing her focus on her conversation.

"Well, Gelya sweetheart, tell me: do you have somewhere to stay tonight?"

"No," answered Gelya reflexively, cursing herself as she did. She'd been too distracted to formulate a smarter answer.

"Well that simply won't do," said Aunty, "I'll have none of it. Don't you worry about a thing, dear. Stay right here and enjoy that rabbit." Gelya wasn't sure what she should be worried about.

She took a long look at the plate before her, debating whether she could safely hide or dispose of it without drawing attention. She wasn't particularly in the mood to sample new foods, but the setting left her little choice. Gelya picked up the haunch and sank her teeth into it. Though it wasn't the type of meat she normally favored, it tasted quite pleasant. The texture, temperature, and spices were all balanced well.

Although food could never sustain her or grant her energy, it was another tactile experience to indulge in. She enjoyed it, much like she enjoyed swimming or combing her hair, but she didn't need it. She wasn't quite sure what happened to food after she swallowed it, and had never wasted effort trying to puzzle it out.

Gelya watched the dancing girl and musicians for a while, and caught them while they were taking a minute to rest. The bright orange silks of her skirt were even more tantalizing when not in motion, as they flowed like water over her shapely, dense legs. The top of the skirt hugged low on her hips, exposing a considerable swathe of a midriff rippling with muscle. Gelya found herself hungering for a taste of something different. She'd taken women occasionally, though it was never quite the same. The experience was purely physical.

Unlike most, the smiling man was not looking at the exposed stomach of the dancing girl. Nor was he looking at the women at his sides. He was looking at Gelya. With his smile nearly gone, his eyes took on an intensely dark tone, and he looked her over with a calculating gaze. While the rest of the room was in constant motion, his sudden stillness was unnerving. His lips curved into a cooler smile, which looked more like a wolf flashing a challenge with its teeth.

He winked at her.

It took Gelya a moment to notice that the woman named Aunty was back at her side, and had been speaking to her.

"Gelya, dear?" she said, placing a hand on her back. "Would that be alright? You'd be warm and comfortable here." Gelya looked up at the wrinkled, pudgy cheeks, pulled taut by a strict bun atop her head.

"What?" was all she could manage.

"I've prepared a small room for you. You're welcome to stay the night." Gelya thought for a moment, then voiced her foremost concern.

"Is it safe here?"

"Oh, but of course it is! My sons run guard duty day and night to keep the place free of any ruffians. And the townsmen patrol to keep us safe from the monsters and animals." Apparently not all of them. "You'll be well looked-after, I promise." That seemed as good an assurance as any, considering her former ideas. Safely embedded in a hub of humans, passing as one of them.

"Alright," she responded. Aunty fussed over her a bit more before urging her to her feet, but Gelya didn't hear any of it. All she could think about was how silly a name "Aunty" was.

***

Gelya was first ushered to a room on the first floor where Aunty had proudly drawn her a bath. Though small, the tightly-crafted circle of wood was cozy and alluring. It had been lined with fresh linen, and filled enough to cover a person up to their neck. Heat, bubbles, and a floral scent sparkled on its surface. Gelya smiled. She'd bathed in heated water only once before, and it hadn't been nearly as lovingly prepared. She much preferred the cool running waters of rivers and streams, especially during the spring when it was composed of freshly melted snowpack. .

She began to strip down as soon as she entered the room, earning a surprised remark from Aunty before she scuttled out the door and shut it. The solid wood abruptly cut out the music and laughter, and a dozen other background noises Gelya hadn't realized were there.

Though the water was only marginally warmer than her own skin temperature, she felt as if it were scorching the very hair from her legs as she stepped in. It didn't take long for the sensation to become pleasurable, heating her to her core as the herbal drink had. For the first time in her life, Gelya was grateful for the gifts her magic granted her. She knew now they were not guaranteed.

At some point, it occurred to her that she had often seen humans exchange coin over food and drink. What makes this place different? she wondered. Do they not normally pay for hospitality? For baths and seats at tables? Apparently not, but for what reason? She dismissed it as some sort of silly societal standard.

Gelya took her time dozing and brushing her hair with a simple wooden comb she found by the bath. She'd often collected more ornate ones from travelling merchants, but hadn't had the time to go back for them when she left her territory. She missed them. They'd been all manner of colors and sizes, encrusted with tiny jewels and bright stones. But Aunty's drab, peasant thing would have to do for the moment. Humans simply did not value the right things.

Gelya remained until the water began to cool, and felt rushed even then. There was an undeniable appeal to being surrounded and cushioned by warmth on all sides. Though she didn't feel as clean or refreshed, she felt relaxed and safe.

A few minutes after she'd dried and dressed, Aunty rapped on the door. She entered, and led Gelya quietly towards the stairs. While they briefly cut back through the main room, a breeze wafted through the fabric walls from the opposite end. It brought with it a scent which shrouded her newly warmed flesh in a sudden chill. Gelya halted and snapped her head toward it.

The smell was neither one of prey, nor of a significant threat. There was powerful magic in it, that much was certain, and not just the kind of sorcery which humans and other animals could learn with practice. It was true magic - the deep, lilting tone was one which she'd never perceived before. It was complex, sharp, and invoked an instinctual vigilance. The closest comparison she could make was that of another succubus, but it was quite clearly different.

Gelya's eyes darted over potential suspects, but could not place the scent. When the breeze died, it was gone.

She became aware of Aunty calling her new name, and snapped her gaze back towards her. The woman flinched from the ferocity in her face.

"Are you alright, dear?" she asked, alarm looking up at her through wrinkled eyes. Gelya nodded before scanning the room one last time. The smiling man was studying her again.

***

Gelya lay awake in the dead of night, deeply entrenched in extra pillows and fluffy blankets. The delightful textures of the small bed had been quickly offset by the cacophony of other boarders settling in around her for the night. Unlike evening birdsong and insect chirps, there was no pattern or predictability to human activity. Steps, creaks, conversation, doors shutting, banging, and the unmistakable sound of lovemaking overwhelmed Gelya's sensitive ears. It wasn't until heavy rain began pelting the walls and roof that she was able to finally rest. The chaotic noise drowned in the pattern of the downpour.

When she was able to bring her focus back to herself, Gelya found herself appreciating the new experience in which she was swaddled. The bedrolls and tents she'd seen before were but sad imitations of the real thing, which failed to emulate its comfort. The wooden walls granted the safety she craved, while the pillows afforded her comfort and warmth. She was drawn to it as a dragon to gold.

But the unfamiliarity of the environment still wrought fear on her psyche. She awoke several times feeling as though she were being smothered, cut off from her magic, or falling from a great height. During the last, she rolled off the bed and landed with a shout amongst pillows and blankets.

While her waking mind attempted to cope with the disorientation and sleep deprivation, a soft knock sounded at the door. She leapt into a crouched fighting stance, tangled in clothing and bedding, and hissed. The door slid open gently.

Gelya hadn't the time to imagine who or what could be slipping into the room in the middle of the night, but she certainly hadn't expected the smiling man from downstairs. His steps were nearly silent as he slipped in and shut the door behind himself, and his loose white shirt made it difficult to focus on his darkened face in the low light.

He paused for but a moment upon seeing her, black hair streaming wildly over cascading fabrics.

"Apologies, my lady" he said softly, "I wanted to see if you were alright." The words reverberated like thunder through a humid night, echoing a deep clarity without unnecessary volume. He enunciated each syllable, and it was apparent he was comfortable holding late night conversations with strangers. Gelya was about to relax before his smell hit her.