The Song of Roland Ch. 18

"Good." Almyra put a hand flat against the covers, where Kelsea's own hand was, at her side. "I am here for you, my child. So is Roland. We're here to help you, and by the love of our God, may you be healed."

"I'd like... that." Kelsea said, managing a weak smile. "My mother... never liked church much... I always liked to-" Her voice fell away. "To..." Her breathing steadied, seeming for all the world like she had lost consciousness. Roland could see what a monumental task she had taken to herself.

"You say she's been like this for the last few days?" Almyra asked, Roland nodded.

"We got separated after the Hautviech attack. Kelsea said that a rider waylaid her, touched her forehead and left her in the forest. We found her several hours later like this."

Almyra frowned. "Hmm. A Hex is normally the domain of our Druidess, Loriel. But she's been gone for nearly a week now, seeking out the Mercenaries we hired to help us." She glanced up at Roland for a moment, "I will do what I can."

The Fire Priestess' hands moved across Kelsea's form, like heated plasma in the fire pit. She stroked across skin, heedless of its place or intimacy. Kelsea moaned, a red blush flowing across her features. Roland had to stand, stoic and unmoving as Almyra's frown deepened. "This is worse than I expected, Roland." She said, placing a hand atop Kelsea's forehead. "Just a glance tells me that something is very wrong with her aura. She's not even giving off the right body heat; she's got a fever beyond a normal, mortal limit."

"What?" Roland said, trying to act surprised. A pit in his stomach began to build as he realized the danger that they were in, right now, "Could it- is it from the hex?"

"It has to be." She said, "I've no idea how she's even alive, at this point. To be honest, I'm worried what breaking the hex will even do if I were to try and remove it now. Should the magic maintaining her dissipate, her body will shut down from the-" Almyra trailed off. Kelsea groaned, twisting in place as she let out a pitiful cry of pain. Almyra sat forward, pulling the covers off of Kelsea in a rush, revealing her trembling form. "Gods preserve us!"

Roland jarred forward, trapped between his fear of tipping their hand, and a genuine desire to help. "What?" He asked again, feeling more helpless than he had when he was slowly bleeding to death on the High Road, two days ago.

"Shut the door! Her temperature just plummeted. I've got to-" Almyra's beautiful features did a series of facial calisthenics. Utterly baffled, the Priestess could do little as her hands raced across Kelsea's body, tracing a growing stain that only she could see, hidden beneath the clothing. Roland practically ran for the door, shutting it in a rush before striding back across the room. "I don't understand," The Priestess muttered to herself, "how could it-"

Kelsea screamed, her eyes opening wide as they shifted from blue to red. She seemed to be fighting herself, holding on to the last vestiges of her restraint. Mortified, Almyra's hands disengaged themselves from her body, hovering like a hummingbird's nervous flutter above her charge. She stared helplessly at the girl for a long moment, lost as to what was going on. "But I didn't..."

There was a pause. Almyra tilted her head, an odd expression building upon her features. She thought for a moment; her lips became an even line, her thin brow pulled down, and her muscles tensed. She placed her hands like rocks in her lap, turning to stare straight at Roland. Her face was stone. "She's not human, is she?" She said, the warmth leaving her voice like a snuffed candle.

Roland reacted at the same time she did, reaching down with both hands to grab the Priestess before she could touch the Succubus. He shoved her against the wall, much like he'd done with Carl less than an hour beforehand. The smaller woman struggled in futility as he pinned her with his larger body, reaching up to cover her mouth before she could scream and drawing the rondel from its sheath with his other hand, planting it against her neck. Her eyes blazed at him as Kelsea began to change back to her true form.

"Don't shout out." He said, applying pressure to her mouth with his hand. Almyra bit him, but he held fast, ignoring the pain in his finger as she snapped her teeth. She twisted in his grasp but he was stronger. Her hands went about his thick arms and pulled at him in an empty display of resistance. "You need to listen to me, I just want her to-"

A blinding pain sizzled his arms where her hands grabbed him. It was like a lava flow upon his skin. Roland howled in pain, losing control of his appendages as they reflexively dropped from the clutches of the Fire Priestess, his dagger clattering out of his hands. She shoved him, sending him spilling back with twin palm prints of burning agony on his chest that simmered and smoked, despite not causing any damage to his clothing. "Aaugh!" He yelled, writhing on the ground as he tried to snuff out the burns that seared him to the bone.

He patted himself, but saw no singes on his bare arms, save a deep, red mark in the imprint of a hand, where her fingers had lain. The palms of Almyra's hands glowed white like molten iron. Her eyes were just as inflamed. "How dare you," She said, "bring a Demon into this place!" The Priestess loomed above him like a stormcloud, kicking away Roland's dagger as she glared down upon him. "What madness compelled you to skulk this thing through our doorstep?"

Roland said nothing, rolling to his hands and knees as jolting, burning pain ensconced his perception. He gritted his teeth, dragging himself towards Kelsea's bed as Almyra watched him, pitiless and stern. "Do you know how many of our people have died because of her pets? How many are just gone, disappeared to whatever damnation she crawled from?"

"She's not with them." Roland growled, planting his hand atop the mattress. "Nor are we. I swear it!" The Priestess pushed Roland's hand away, and he fell to the floor . "Bogdan let us in! He said we could stay!"

"Bogdan." Almyra said, his name was a curse upon her tongue. "That blighted Priest has lost his rotten mind! How dare he choose to let this... " Almyra trailed off, her eyes settling upon the Succubus' shifting form. "Succubus?" She asked, as if questioning the Demon in her midst.

Kelsea did not respond, her eyes glassy and lidless as she began to spasm and twist again. A low, gurgling emerged from her mouth as her face twisted and contorted. She was having another fit, worse than all the others. This time the discoloration came more like a surging tempest than a wave, the pink spattering across the whole left side of her body as she jerked and gulped air with spastic aimlessness.

Almyra hesitated, her fury abating in the face of the unexpected. "...What's she doing?" She asked, her face turning in alarm as she saw Kelsea's body sink like a corpse against the bed, her one eye twitching as the other slid like a decapitated head across the underside of her eyelashes.

"Kelsea!" Roland said, scrambling to his knees despite the pain. He took her hand in his, clutching it like a lifeline as he felt the muscles of her fingers twinge and thrust in random directions within his palm. He looked on, a helpless, blinding rage building in his chest as he saw the light escape her eyes, the venomous corruption of her form twisting in on itself as her body warped. The human side of her face was ashen, haggard and cadaverous. The other side of her face, the demon side, began to slough off, like a mudslide disfiguring the slope of a hill. It was the ultimate catastrophe, the penultimate misfortune.

"Please!" Roland begged, turning to implore the Priestess standing behind him, her hands open as she stood in stupefaction. "I... I don't know what to do!"

There was an asperity in the look the Priestess gave him. "...Let her die." Almyra said, but her voice betrayed her humanity. "A life like hers isn't... it's not-"

"Fuck!" He shouted, smashing his fist against the ground. He wanted to kill something, to answer with violence a problem that had no solution. "Kelsea!" Roland said, but the changes did not stop. He leaned over her, putting a skinned and bleeding hand to her cheek. He felt the pale skin of her human half, it was cold and clammy like a fish's scales. He tried to get her attention, but her eyes looked elsewhere. He stroked her hair, his facial expression collapsing in the face of this lone, abiding terror. He shook his head. "She's just a guileless girl! She's just needs..." He felt something break on the inside.

Kelsea wanted to be a trader, or a craftswoman. She'd left the empty bondage of a whore's vocation behind, for the uncertain future of a life lived on the road; an adventure; a journey whose final destination was unimportant and irrelevant. Even in the short time he had known her, Roland saw that she was a woman of dreams, of high hopes and flights of loving fancy. Somehow, this girl had managed to not become the creature she'd been warped into; this woman, whom life had done its damndest to ravage and ruinate. Deep within, Roland knew that he was in her thrall, that she could have been the black-hearted monster everyone thought she was, and still felt the same way about her. All the more painful to know she really wasn't.

Somehow, she still knew how to smile, how to live, how to love. Why was a person like her forced to suffer such atrocities? The Gods only knew; Roland certainly didn't. He could only touch her sallow skin and pray that something greater than himself might take pity on this wretched angel.

Almyra let out a heavy breath, her voice thick with emotion. "Gosvin, give me strength." She said, her voice trembling as she struggled to keep her calm. "Keep your servant loyal in her moment of weakness, that the inequities of man might burn away in your righteous harmony." Her body shook in place as Kelsea continued to warp and change, the colors splashing this way and that across her body as her spine jerked and bent. Roland felt her hand squeeze his own, like the rebounding echo of the last of her will. At last the Priestess could suffer no more. She took the broken man by the shoulder, pushing him out of the way.

"Step aside, Roland." She said, "I will spare your accursed creature."

"She's not..." Roland whispered, falling back onto his arms. His breath was ragged, his eyes wet as he hid behind his thick beard and long hair. "She's just Kelsea."

Almyra's mouth twisted in distaste as she rubbed her hands together, simulating the birth of a fire between her hands. "Now that I know what I'm dealing with, I can at least apply a temporary salve to the problem." She muttered to herself, a reddish glow coming to her fingertips.

She leaned forward, gazing intently at Kelsea's distorting features. She seemed to see something beyond the visible spectrum, placing the glowing finger atop the flesh of her neck. Like a color palette mixing with a deeper shade, the place where she touched dyed itself the unholy purple of her skin tone. The moment Almyra's finger drew away however, it bled back into its pink morbidity. She placed her finger a little lower, lifting Kelsea's shirt to expose her ribline. This time the stain spread further, lingering like spilled water across her body before slowly dissipating again.

"...Remove her pants for me, Roland."

Roland blinked, bewildered by the request. "Why?"

"What is the source of a Demon's power?" Almyra muttered. The mercenary didn't answer. "This spell will only work if its placed where it can do the most good. She needs her heart and lungs less than she needs her..."

Roland grimaced, pulling himself to his feet and grasping Kelsea's waistline. He whispered a silent prayer to himself as he exposed her lower body, watching Almyra lean over the Demoness, sliding two of her fingers into the Succubus' vagina in a curt, clinical motion. She whispered something as she did so, a low, toned, ancient appeal that resonated within Roland's being like the kindling of primeval man, coming aflame.

Kelsea's mouth opened, a moan escaping her mouth as her body movements changed like a histrionic performance. Gone was the aimless thrashing, replaced by the curving of her spine and the gentle twist of her hips, responding to another's touch rather than enduring internal suffering. A flood of color swept up from her navel, spreading from her womanhood upward across the whole of her body. Where the violet returned, the muscles relaxed. Once it reached her face, a visible look of relief crossed her complexion. She fell against the bed, her chest rising and falling with the normal function of her lungs resuming. Roland felt a flood of relief wash over him.

The change was not wholly Kelsea's, alone. The longer she channeled her power into her, the more red Almyra's face became. Kelsea opened her mouth and began to pant, her sex glistening with wetness as Almyra continued to finger her, more than might have seemed necessary in the moment. Soon, Kelsea was gasping, her voice rising as she leaned her hips into the hand inside her body. "Nngh!" She squealed. Almyra's mouth opened, her chest heaving in tempo to Kelsea's breath.

"Haah, hah, aaaahngh!" Kelsea cried out, arching her back as she jettisoned a copious stream of feminine liquid from her snatch, arcing across the bed and staining the blanket with her fluids. The Succubus' arms reached out behind her, like a prayer to the heavens as she grabbed the headboard for support in her full-body orgasm. She was in that moment a seraph of rapturous ecstasy, the very sounds she made bade Roland's masculinity to rise within his nethers.

Almyra took in a surprised inhale, her free hand moving to cover her chest, as if to stop her heart from beating through her sternum. Her face bore an expression of repressed euphoria, and her stately frame shook so hard, she fell to her knees next to Roland. She seemed as much, if not more affected by the treatment than Kelsea had been, her body sheened with sweat and an impassioned aspect to her features. On any other woman, Roland would have thought it a 'come hither' expression. On Almyra it made her seem flustered.

Kelsea opened her eyes, sitting up in a rush upon the bed. It reminded Roland in a way, the manner in which she'd risen after her Mating Haze had begun, months ago. Something lurked within her eyes, something hot and predatory that colored her demeanor, that bore a carnivore's quality in its edges. Her vision focused on Almyra first and foremost. The Priestess, taken aback, met the Succubus' hungry gaze with a conflicting mixture of fear and excitement in her eyes.

Without words, the Demon let loose a sultry snarl, reaching forth with her hands to pull the Priestess to her. Their lips met, melding together in an unbidden rush of passion. Roland sat, astounded as Kelsea turned her body on the bed to face Almyra's, licking along the inside of her lips as the two traded a passionate embrace.

The Demon pulled back for just a moment, observing the way Almyra moved in tune with her. It was almost like seeing telepathic twins interacting. Both were breathless, open mouthed and blushing. "Th-thank-" Kelsea said, her eyes fluttering. She finally seemed to notice that there was a world around her, her eyes turned to look at Roland. When she saw him, a dazzling smile crept across her visage. "...you." She finished.

Her tail swaying behind her, Kelsea leapt at him, tackling Roland to the ground as she draped herself atop his body, planting kisses all the while. Roland's hands reached up to touch her, to grasp and hold her close. He ran his fingers through her hair, thumbed her cheek as she closed her eyes and leaned into him. For a long time he simply held her there, rocking on his heels along the ground as she touched, and groped, and squeezed at him.

"Hmmph!" She groaned, with her mouth upon his, sounding very much like a mate basking in the after effect of carnal relations. Kelsea was burning, her skin a furnace and her body heat repressive over Roland's own. She took his hand and placed it firmly against her bared bottom. "Touch me." She said, though the mercenary hesitated. He pulled back, taking her chin in hand, rubbing his thumb across her lower lip.

"How do you feel?" He asked.

"Better." She said without hesitation. "Amazing!" She could not contain her joy.

"Thank the Gods." Roland breathed, falling back against the hard ground. Kelsea moved to undress him; he tried to stop her, but there was something about the way she moved that immediately withered his resistance. "Wait, you haven't-"

"Roland." She breathed, running the back of her fingernail from his Adam's apple to his chin. "Be with me." He shivered. Her words slithered and slid, sinking into the hollow cracks of his brain and filling it with her soothing voice. He was hard, erect in a way he hadn't been in days. Her eyes became pinpoints of focus as his thinking mind receded. Roland kissed her, and she returned the gesture in fierce reciprocity.

Kelsea lifted her head off of him, turning to beckon to the enthralled Priestess as well. Almyra walked forward on her knees, putting her arms about Kelsea in tender affection as the two shared a second, longer encirclement. The Succubus reveled in her ability to pull both into her erotic sphere, sharing an oscillation of tongues as she moved from one lover to the other and back again.

When she had Almyra on her tongue once more, she pulled back, smirking in sexual bliss as the godly woman indulged in the sinful behavior she exalted. "Almyra." Kelsea said, toying with the name like it was a thing to be cherished, "Do I taste... 'good' to you?" The Priestess was at a loss for words. She nodded dumbly, her head bobbing up and down like a shiftless bird. Kelsea's smile grew wider. "There's another part of me. You touched it earlier, with your wonderful fingers; I taste divine, down there."

"B-blasphemer." Almyra stammered, a tiny tremor in her voice. She accepted another lip lock and matched tongues with her tormentor. Kelsea giggled at the affront, stroking the Priestess' face.

"I blaspheme by simply being, your holiness. But I can thank you the best way I know how." Kelsea stood, pivoting on her heel and lifting her tail up out of the way. Her hands went to her rear, spreading her cheeks and exposing her leaking labia and heated nethers. "Come." She entreatied, "Worship it."

The words were compelling to the point of urgency. Almyra's eyes went wide, her pupils dilating as she crawled over to Kelsea's nude, out jutting ass. With shaking hands the Priestess gently stroked the outer edges of her thighs, seeming to struggle with her own arousal. She mumbled a silent prayer, or perhaps begged forgiveness, before leaning forward and extending her tongue hesitantly against the velvet folds of Kelsea's pussy. The Demon chuckled at the feeble attempt, before devolving into a moan as the woman's blessed tongue licked up along her lower lips. She cooed, reaching back behind her and shoving the Priestess' perfect face against her bottom. Kelsea cast a coy glance over to Roland.

"Come over here, Roland." She said, a dreamy smile upon her face. Roland picked himself up off the ground, smarting at the phantom burns which were already fading like mirages across his skin. He unclothed himself quickly, stripping to his skin in the space of a minute. He glanced down, idly staring at his muscled and scarred flesh. He felt... smoother, for some reason. Roland strode over to his paramour, leaning around the Priestess busy eating out her box and taking the Succubus by the neck, taking her face with his own.