The Irresistible Temptation

[wangxiuming]

I was not always like this ... I did not always need to share a body, and with my son no less. Once, I had my own form, my own body - my own identity.

... and it was beautiful.

I remember the day I made the pact with my dark master. I didn't know who he was at the time, I was so naive - all I knew was a handsome man had asked me to the palace balcony. He opened my eyes to the world and whispered romantic secrets, forgotten legends in my ear - the stars, Selune herself shown more brightly than ever that night. And when his lips touched mine, and our tongues danced together - I knew that I would forever be under his spell.

Or so I thought.

I left the court behind, and spent the next month together in complete bliss. We travelled the untrodden roads by day, taking what pleasures we could afford from the villages we passed through. By night, we made love. I thought the ecstasy would last forever; it was a whirlwind, a maelstrom of passion, and frenzy, and unbridled desire and satisfaction.

And then, when he had my heart trembling in his dark hands, my fate intertwined with his own, he revealed to me his true nature. A monster from the hells, a devil, a nightmare ... the horror I felt, the disgust, the revulsion.

... and yet, it was tempered with something I could not explain - desire, lust, love. He told me he was leaving me, that I could not follow; where he walked, only destruction was left in his wake. He held me in his arms in a final embrace, and cradled me like a babe. I could not resist, I could not stand to be apart from him. I pleaded with him, begged on my knees, crumpled to the floor in a pathetic heap, desperately holding onto his arm - as if that would have stopped him.

And it was then that he turned to me, and looked into my soul. Perhaps he saw something there that even I didn't realize was there at the time. He whispered in my ear ...

"There is something you can do ... something we can do ... to ensure we never have to be apart again. Never again."

Never again. Those words rang in my mind, reverberated, echoing into my soul. Never again would we be apart... I agreed without a second thought. Still wrapped in his embrace, I looked up to him. He brought a hand up to push back my hair, and leaned in to brush his lips lightly across mine - lingering after, and we just stared into each others' eyes.

I felt a sharp pain in my abdomen. He lifted a bloody claw to my eyes, and drew a crimson line from the top of my forehead, over my nose, down to my chin. All I could see were his eyes like fire, ablaze with intensity. And as I lost consciousness, waves of feeling washed over me. I knew I would be safe.

I woke up the next day ... and walked to the mirror. As I brushed my hair slowly, my eyes flashed a brilliant scarlet.

...and I smiled.

[wangxiuming]

For the next five decades, we walked together among the mortal realm, taking delight in its idiosyncrasies; the meaningless rituals of dozens of cultures, the ridiculous prostrations of the faithful - we mocked their foolishness and turned them against their own. I soon realized that wherever we passed, corruption, destruction, and sorrow shortly followed. My master had no care for these mortal creatures, and he had no cause to. He was so much more than them; they were like insects, writhing worms, no more than pigs and cattle to satisfy his dark hunger.

I never asked why he did such things, nor did I care. After all, he had chosen me as his consort – from that very night on, I never once considered myself as lowly as any of that scum. I had been given a great gift, great power …

…and yet, I yearned for more. There was a craving for something inside me that I could not understand, much less satiate. When the love-making ceased to take its edge away, I turned to harnessing my gifts.

There is something to be said for power. Those without it always seek to destroy it, to contain it, to lock it away … to make it worthless. They fear it. They fear what power can do, what true power can effect. They fear it because they know that when another wields power … all their meager possessions, their simple lives, all of it – can be wiped out on a whim, annihilated, and lost even to history. But to those who can control it, who can harness it and command it like a sword – no, like their very limbs – to those precious few, power is something to cherish.

They say power corrupts. The truth is it merely opens ones eyes to reality. Limitations mean nothing, barriers and walls are like melting butter against your will. When you have power, the concerns of the powerless are not yours to worry over. All you need consider is your own will.

Fifty-eight years after I met my diabolical lover, I mastered his power. My power.

Two days after that, I burned an entire village to the ground without a second thought.

[wangxiuming]

It was not something I intended to do ... but I can not deny that I enjoyed it. The exhilaration, the intensity of feeling flickering lives smothered by your very will ... it is something that can not truly be described with words. To know that even if you could not control your own destiny, you could deny another theirs. It was an intoxication even greater than the passion I shared with my master.

At the time, my Master and I had been apart. He had wanted to remain longer in one of the grander cities; no doubt he was corrupting some foolish maiden or naive princess much like how I used to be. I had long since grown weary of his tired machinations, however, and wanted to move on. I told him that I would meet him in the next village, a small seaside town of only a hundred or so residents, but rumored to have the most luxurious salt-water baths in all the region. My master was not pleased - this was the first time I had even hinted at any defiance - but he acquiesced to my will.

I arrived just as dusk fell, and was greeted with a large welcoming party. For a second, I thought my dear lover had surprised me, and organized a huge fanfare for my arrival ... that is, until I took a closer look. The rabble that greeted me wielded crude swords and spears, some armed with pitchforks and torches. Their faces were simple, ugly, their emotions plastered all over for me to see - anger, apprehension ... fear.

They told me that they had heard of me and my ill deeds. They told me of the rumors of my passing and of the terrible fates that had befallen the villages that had the misfortune to host my presence. They called me witch and screamed for my blood.

I knew instantly who had given me up. After all, we had always been cautious to hide our trail, to ensure that no one would be able to trace the unfortunate calamities back to us. My lover, my master, my devil ... he had betrayed me.

It was so amusing, I broke out into hysterical laughter on the spot. It must have been maniacal - I noticed several of the villagers strengthen their grips on their pathetic weaponry as their eyes widened. Some of the more cowardly ones even took a few steps back. They were terrified of me, a lone elf-woman with only a dress and satchel to call her own.

Of course, they were right to be.

As my laughter died, one of the men closest to me became emboldened. He took an audacious step forward and flung his pitchfork at me, with surprising accuracy. It punctured my gut in three places, jutting out of my abdomen as my blood spurted in three directions. I must admit, that was not a pleasant experience - as if the whole situation was not already very irritating.

I plucked the metal spokes out of my stomach slowly ... and the villagers watched as my wounds closed in on themselves, a thrilling horror etched into their faces. I whispered two words and drew my arm outwards in a semicircle. Three more spears came flying at me but merely bounced off my skin like rubber. I surveyed the measly group and smiled most seductively.

I found the first fool who had dared to attack me. I pushed my arm out from my body, and then all that remained in his place was a burning corpse. The smell of cooking meat filled the air, and several of the women-folk lost their suppers. My laughter was almost persistent now, uncontrollable.

Two more peasants charged at me as the remaining group hid behind them, cowering. Just as they were about to reach me, I clapped my hands - a swarm of violent hornets popped into the air around me and made haste to attack my targets. Stinging, biting, poisoning the two fools until they were paralyzed with pain, swollen and pus-filled, falling to the ground. The rest of the peasantry screamed and fled from me. I lifted my open palms high into the air and blanketed the entire village in a blackened haze. My fists clenched viciously and fire rained down in torrents from the sky, exploding wood, sending shrapnel into flesh and structure alike.

The creatures' dying screams filled my ears and my heart was filled with joy.

A hellish portal opened up beside me, and from within it came my Master. He looked upon me, looked upon the destruction I had wrought, the terrifying magic that he had given me, but that I now commanded ... and for the first time, he looked at me differently. Something in his eyes ... they glimmered with awe.

"How did you like my gift?" he asked simply.

"It was ... delightful."

[wangxiuming]

From that day forward, I never once hesitated to use my power to subjugate, to dominate, to manipulate others to my will. My master was not pleased - indeed, I might even say he was jealous of the rapid progress that I was making. With each passing second, my relationship with him soured even as my connection to his power - my power - grew stronger. It was no longer his shadowy form that the villagers whispered hushed rumors and traded fearful tales about - it was me. The beautiful enchantress, the captivating witch, who held their attention and pumped the blood through their bodies like wildfire. Slayer and seducer, lover and betrayer.

It grew to the point where he no longer even demanded my affections, so foolishly envious he was of me. He began to dally with new maidens daily, and even persuaded some to join us. He gave them the power, as he did me - as if he was trying to consolidate his own power base, to maintain the facade that he was still in control.

Or perhaps he did it simply out of spite.

I killed his first mistress in the dead of night, only hours after she had been given his gift. I didn't waste my magicks on her - she was a worthless piece of flesh, whose beauty failed to rival even the most plain of princesses, much less my own. My radiant image could still stop even the most pious of men in their tracks, and reduce them to slobbering mongrels; this woman was not my rival - she was livestock to slaughter. It was a different feeling, to strangle the life out of someone; I still felt the familar rush of snuffing out life, but the process was so inefficient and crude, even barbaric. There was no satisfaction in it.

My master was not at all pleased. But what could he expect? He who had promised me eternal life and love, never-ending passion, HE, who had given me undeniable power - he actually thought I would sit quietly as he robbed me of my dignity, my pride?!

His wrath was unbounded and my punishment severe - despite my progression within the eldritch arts, he still maintained a measure of dominion over me. He nullified my magicks, and beat me cruelly with his bare fists and claws for a day and a night. I did not cry out; there was no one to hear it - but the memory was forever seared into my mind. For each bruise he left upon my perfect skin, for every slash of his taloned hands that blemished my beauty - I vowed to repay him a hundred-fold.

But I knew that if I continued to defy him so blatantly, I could not long avoid a deadly confrontation. Even with my power, I realized I could not be so arrogant as to assume I could emerge from such a fight as the victor. And I had no intention of being sent to the Hells to serve another master, or be forced to fight in meaningless wars of the Lower Planes. I needed a contingency, an escape from the inevitable fate of all who broach my powers. Some way for me to tear myself from his grasp.

It took me another decade of silent study, masked research, and dark invocation to discover my salvation.

His name was Eliaster.

[wangxiuming]

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Hundreds of years later, a voice whispered into my ear ... "Awaken, Phaedriel."
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[wangxiuming]

My long years of arduous study had led me to one conclusion - if I was going to have any hope of returning to the Prime after being swallowed by the Hells, it would have to be by affixing some portion of my soul to to this plane. That remnant of me would serve as an anchor, a lifeline that would bind me to the mortal realm, and allow me the chance to claw my way back.

But what could I tie my soul to? I needed something who's will was weak, who could easily be influenced and dominated by my presence. Humans and animals came to mind ... but they were so short-lived. I could not be sure they would not die before my exodus from my diabolic destiny. Not to mention how sickeningly ugly they were. I wouldn't be able to stand looking at myself in the mirror.

I needed something that could withstand the test of time, an immortal, or at least ... an elf. But most of my cousins had heard whispers of my nature by now; if I tried to imbue them with the essence of my soul, they would never cooperate. They would resist, and in such an uncertain process, might even weaken me. Worse, I could not afford to risk my anchor purging themselves of my one link to the Prime after my death.

And then it came to me. An epiphany of the greatest magnitude. What better use would a child have, than to serve as their parents' rebirth into the world? Better yet, I would have my own child - the bond between mother and child could only strengthen my link. And I would have pick of suitors; I could practically ensure my child would be beauty personified. A glorious second coming, radiant like the dawn, as beautiful as Sehanine herself ... Of course, I hoped it would be a daughter. But that is for later.

I found Eliaster Eldeas in a small harbor town; he was a simple guard, no grand lineage, no aspirations of royalty or wealth - but I did not need any of those things, after all. All I needed was his charming smile and ocean-blue eyes. He was betrothed at the time to another elven wench, but it was simple enough to convince him to call that fiasco off. Especially since I showed him things that made him tremble with desire every time I looked at him. All men are, in the end, ruled by their lust. We made love nightly for a month - he was insatiable, eager to bed me every chance we met. Our trysts lasted for hours on end.

Shortly after two months with him, I discovered I was pregnant.

... My master was not pleased.

[wangxiuming]

Such hypocrisy. After his endless dalliances, he had the audacity to demand from me unwavering loyalty? He had the gall to deny me my own lover?!

And yet even despite all my mastery of the abyssal magicks, my diabolical lord was still a force to be reckoned with, not to be underestimated. I will admit it was foolish of me to try to challenge his might, even as I was weakened from the precious life growing inside my body. Perhaps it was arrogance on my part; a lifetime of facing enemies who could barely last three seconds against me had made me too bold. Or perhaps it was just the hormones.

Two nights after I had discovered I was with child, he approached me as I lay in my sleep in his mortal form - once so beautiful in my eyes, perfect in every way - and stroked my cheek, almost lovingly. Ridiculous, I know - but the second he touched me, he knew. I could feel the anger soar inside of him, the outrage that I had somehow broken some unspoken oath between us. My eyes burst open and I saw him in his true form, cloaked in fire, putrid horns and leathery wings sprouting from his back. Iron-like spikes jutted forth from the back of his head, as his lower jaw expanded and his teeth grew into points. Crimson eyes burned with an overwhelming fury as his tongue licked out, forked and writhing, tasting the air.

"YOU DARE BETRAY ME?! YOU DARE TO DEFILE ME WITH YOUR TAINTED BODY?!?"

His words unleashed a rage within me that I had been harboring for decades. All those years of watching him carry on with women, no, whores! All of them! I would not stand for it, I COULD not!

His voice lowered, though they trembled in anger. He began speaking words that were all-too familiar to me. Nullification! He was trying to rob me of my magicks again, but I countered his incantation easily - I had long since been preparing for that. I would never again let him render me so powerless. He would have to face all the mastery of the magic I had amassed.

I launched the first attack. Magic sprang forth from my hands in a searing blast, striking the devil's form before me straight in the chest. The monster ignored the blow, cursing my name as he stretched his wings and took to the air. The roof of the inn I had rented came crashing down, pieces of wood and metal flying in all directions. I had to leap aside to avoid being crushed by the shrapnel. As I recovered my balance, I sent more blasts of eldritch energy into the skies, trying to knock my former master down to the earth.

He dodged them all with ease. His mouth opened wide in a hellish smile and brilliant fire burst forth, flying straight at me, threatening to ruin my beauty. My arms came about on their own to spread its own fire in defense. The two blasts collided with an awesome intensity, exploding in mid-air, showering flame and sparks all over the wooden floors. Fires began to spring up from the tinder that the inn provided - in the distance I could hear the screams of mortals as they clamored to escape the hell we were creating.

I was not about to give up so easily, even as the the skies seemed to fall to ruins around me. I took to the air under the power of my invocations, and then spread my arms in a wide circle - my body shattered into a thousand screaming bats, flying at the devil, scratching, biting, and clawing at his flesh. He swiped at the forms with terrible force, but it seemed with each piece of me he struck down, another took its place.

Flapping his wings hard into the night air, he unfurled them completely in an unexpected stroke, scattering my thousands of forms apart. As I struggled to coalesce, he soared highter into the air and then brought his clawed hand back to summon a fireball of yet-unseen proportions. As the massive sphere of hellfire swirled into place, I condensed back into my elven form, just in time to see him launch his attack. I barely had time to bring my hands together - energy burst forth from my fingertips, but too late! His spell was too massive, and my magicks crumpled underneath the force of his vicious blast, sending me hurling into the earth below. I screamed in pain.

"I WILL SHOW YOU THE PRICE FOR SUCH A MISTA -- WHAT'S THAT?"

Through the fires and explosions, a voice sounded in the night, calling my name. It was Eliaster. That FOOL.

But my master was no such thing - he saw how the elven man rushed to me, put his form between mine and the towering devil. He knew immediately who this idiot was. HE KNEW.

" ... HAHA! HAHAHA!! THIS?! THIS PUNY, PATHETIC THING IS WHAT YOU BROKE OUR PACT FOR?!"

The devil stretched out its arm, and Eliaster's body flew to the giant monster's grasp. He cried out in terror, but he had managed to keep a hold of his sword. As my master's fist closed in on his body, he slammed down with it as hard as he could.

Of course, it was useless. Mortal weapons. The sword glanced off my master's fist with a loud *CLANG*, as Eliaster's arm recoiled in pain, the shock echoing into his body. The devil merely laughed.

"COME, FRAIL ONE. LET ME SHOW YOU WHAT YOUR PRECIOUS PHAEDRIEL HAS BEEN DOING THESE LAST CENTURIES!"

A single finger from my master touched the very center of Eliaster's forehead - and I could see his mouth open in shock, his eyes widen unnaturally, in terror and confusion. My master kept laughing, delighting in the horror he was causing to the father of my child, showing to him my true face. The evils I had done. The atrocities I had committed. The dark desires and unfettered lusts I had indulged in.

... It was my master's mistake to think that I would care. While he wasted his energies to defaming me in the eyes of my mortal lover, I had regained my strength. My wounds had already closed in on themselves. I stood up, to my full height, and spread my arms high into the air. Negative energy coalesced in clouds above the devil, and then slammed down with an intensity I had never managed before. Bolt after bolt came flying downards, send crackling sparks of discharge in all directions. My master screamed in agony, dropping Eliaster, and bringing his wings upward to shield himself from my attack.

Finally, he managed to retaliate - howling into the night, sending a ripple of magic hundreds of feet in every direction. The buildings, trees, earth, and stone that were not utterly annihilated were sent dozens of feet into the air, only to shatter upon returning to the earth. As the power waned and the magic subsided, my master no doubt began searching for my dead corpse. He didn't find it - I was long gone.

[wangxiuming]

I fled to the most remote of countrysides, slaying a peasant family to take their home as shelter. I did not have much time - my days were spent continuing my preparations for my soul-binding ritual, while my nights were occupied with strengthening my wards against scrying. The work was not made any easier with the pregnancy; dear heart was not the least bit pleasant, almost as if he knew what I was planning to do. Several times my incantations were interrupted by sudden and uncontainable surges of nausea and light-headedness.

Still, my efforts were not completely fruitless - when the day finally came for dear heart to be born into the world, I was ready. For the ritual, at any rate. Labor was a torture I did not fully expect. Dressed in the plain robes I had found in the peasants' wardrobe, I knew the process would be messy. I sorely underestimated the pain.

... Neither was I prepared for the vengeful twist of fate that Tymora thought fitting to curse upon me. As I struggled to bring my body upright after the last desperate push, I saw the life I had created - a son! After all this planning, all my labored efforts, and my new vessel was to be male?! Disgusting, a slave to his own lusts, and I would have to bind myself to that thing?! Dear heart indeed ... my heart almost gave out that very second.

It took me a while for the realization to settle in - and only a second to understand that I had no choice. If I was going to get away with escaping the hells, I would need a contingency, regardless of whether its physical appearance was pleasing or not. As I lay my dear heart into the cradle the peasant family had been so thoughtful to leave behind, I gathered the last bits of my strength. Dear heart was still wailing, bawling incessantly - a few drops of a special potion solved that annoying problem nicely. I placed a hand over my heart, and felt the silken-like strands of magic weave through my fingers, latching ... into me. Into my soul.

I pulled, slowly at first, then with greater force. The soul does not tear easily, and the pain was excruciating. I bore through it, for my future, for my salvation - I had to. Finally, I had a sundered fragment of my immortal essence draped in the palm of my hand. I reached out my hand to stroke dear heart's cheek, then put my index finger straight onto the center of the babe's forehead. I pushed, with all my might, weakened as I still was, forcing my soul onto my new vessel, my dear heart. The shock of the invasion must have been enough to jolt the baby awake, and he started screaming - too late for it now though. I could feel it working, feel the torn soul snaking its way into the child before me. I closed my eyes and I pushed with everything I had left.

Finally, as I felt the last strand of my essence enter into the new life before me, I opened my eyes to marvel at my creation. Two cerullean circles formed in the baby's eyes, then burst forth into crescents, stretching from his forehead, across his eyes and to his cheeks, coloring the once peachy-skin into a mesmerizing green symbol of my indomitable will. Despite the baby's poor choice of gender ... it was truly a beautiful thing to behold. With this child, I now had my lifeline - my link to the mortal realms. Even were my life to end, and I were sent to the terrible hells below ... I could return. I would. I would.

A knock on the door interrupted the slow smile that was spreading across my face. What came after ... I truly, did not expect.

* The End ... ? *