Aaralon hurried to the storechamber, his mind awhirl. Leave the college -- tonight! How was Pursha planning on overcoming the wards? They were powerful, and prevented both unauthorised entrance to and exit from the college. Perhaps... she had taken Master Readner's form, did that mean she possessed his keys? Would she be able to use them to effect an escape? His mind pondered these things, trying to anticipate the succubus' moves. Things were happening quickly; he felt out of his depth.
Such thoughts carried him to the entrance of the storechamber. Taking a deep breath, he eased the door open. The interior of the chamber was dimly lit by a couple of magical lamps. Aaralon peered into the gloom.
"Hello?"
There was a shuffling noise, and a figure emerged in front of him. Zaedan, the keeper of the stores, was a slight man, perpetually hunched over, with an untidy mop of dark hair. There were many rumours circulating the college about this man; perhaps not surprising given that he spent most of his days in this darkness, speaking little and muttering often.
"Aaralon? I've been expecting you," Zaedan whispered. "Here." He gestured to his right, where two large bundles lay on the floor. Aaralon eyed them quizzically.
"They look a little heavy for me."
"They've been... enchanted. You'll find they weigh next to nothing."
"Ah." Aaralon moved to take the bags, only to be stopped by Zaedan's hand on his arm.
"Wait. These are... for her aren't they?"
"What?"
Zaedan sighed -- whimpered, almost. "She... came here, earlier. She was... so beautiful... so beautiful..." His eyes drifted, his hand slipped from Aaralon's arm. He muttered something unintelligible.
Unsettled, Aaralon grabbed the supplies and made a quick exit. What had Pursha done to this man? Once again he promised himself never to underestimate the demoness' abilities -- or her ruthless drive.
Behind him, the small hunched figure shuffled back into the gloom. |