Xandi.

Daemons are among the strangest of the life that exists in the Four Worlds.  Capable of existing and affecting all Four Worlds, they are native to none of them.  Immensely powerful, yet bound by unbreakable rules; daemons could be benevolent, malevolent, beautiful, or terrifying, but never could they betray their true nature.  Ordinary mortals could conjure a daemon, and the most powerful of magi might be helpless before one.  From the massive, hulking brutes that existed only to terrorize and feed, to the subtle mental emanation that could possess a head preserved in formaldehyde to speak forbidden secrets, their powers and intellects and forms were as varied as their names.

And then there was Xandi.

The fields where Xandi played were between here and there, neither world nor space.  Xandi was not evil; nor was it good.  It adhered to the Limitations upon it inflexibly, but otherwise moved and did as it pleased.  Xandi was not an especially bright daemon when conjured, but it was cunning and insightful.  It was not particularly strong either but made up for that in versatility and a more elemental power.  Unlike many of its ilk, Xandi was not bound by Limitations upon its form, even in the rare conjurations and summoning spells that existed for it.  

Perhaps that last was why the decadent Duke of Hollows-wood wished his wizard to conjure the daemon….

Hollows.

Duke Bartholomew Hollows was the British ruler of a stretch of generally uncontested Scottish land.  He’d not only taken advantage of the lord’s rights for most of the nearby Scottish townsfolk, but also had many young maidens and boys brought to his castle as servants.  He was fairly certain about half of the town’s children were his bastards, and true to the king’s law he took a good portion of their incomes as tax and tithe for king and church.  Duke Bartholomew generally ignored the grumblings of his serfs and the pagan religions they worshiped - unless it was a convenience to him in some way or another.

Married to Lady Giselle of Stanton-ford, the Duke had three strapping sons and two lovely daughters.  His men-at-arms were excellently trained British men, and the vicar of the local church forgave them all their many sins for the good gold he received to grant indulgences.  A monk from an abbey at Blackchapel - so named for the black slate used for its roof - served as the Duke’s accountant and as a scholar looking into genealogy and other more esoteric things to amuse the Duke.  The Duke did most definitely need to be amused.

Between them the Duke and Duchess were quite wealthy and they held such iron control over their lands that there were very few problems not dealt with quickly and efficiently.  While this might have pleased the king and made the usual difficulties of ruling Scottish serfs less troublesome, it also lent itself to boredom.  Having been a frequent visitor to certain French nobles, Duchess Giselle had some very exotic tastes in bedroom play.  Likewise, Duke Bartholomew enjoyed his noble rights to break in the brides of his serfs.  Between them the Duke and Duchess had come to a very amicable arrangement, and soon their entire family was quite involved in the seeking of entertainment.  The vicar profited to excess in the payment of indulgences and turned a blind eye and deaf ear to the plight of the maids and servants, while the monk delved into even darker secrets as he was bribed with money and pretty young boys to keep his observations to himself about the Duke’s pastimes.

One evening the entertainments were under way, and Matthias, the monk, was watching as Duke Bartholomew’s Great Dane had his way with one of Lady Giselle’s maids.  Lovely nineteen year old Seraphina was kneeling at her eldest brother’s chair and enjoying his taste quite enthusiastically, fellating him expertly as the twenty-two year old Prince Tory watched his father’s hound.  Jonathan, the middle brother at age nineteen and twin to Seraphina, had a young page on his lap, and was tickling the boy in a manner that made the young lad flush and uncomfortable.  Handsome young Arthur, the youngest boy at seventeen, was watching in rapture, having never seen the dog with a bitch who cried out in humiliation and for mercy.  His mother’s hand moved over the firmness hidden under his hose with the ease of long practice as she laughed and whispered to Tory.

Despite all this, Duke Bartholomew was not as entertained as he’d hoped.  The girl’s cries merely distracted him, and he’s seen the sight before.  Likewise, even the thought of having Seraphina and Jonathan join he and his wife in bed again didn’t arouse his passions.  Seeing his discontent Matthias spoke softly to the Duke, and that evil man’s eyes lit up with excitement.  Matthias had uncovered some old tomes in the library, and requested the Duke to allow him to perform a ceremony from them in hopes it would alleviate the Duke’s boredom.  There were only two problems.

The first was Vicar Charles, who would ask a pretty sum for an indulgence so great.  Assured it would be taken care of, he pointed out the second problem.  “I have need of a virgin girl of no more than sixteen years as a sacrifice to bring the daemon….and we should have a few others young women or men prepared to entertain your majesty as well.  Those need not be virgins, but you see where this problem lies.”  Matthias was well aware of the depravity of the Hollows family, and few maids remained virgin in the towns, much less the castle itself.

As Princess Seraphina shared her brother’s seed with Duchess Giselle the Duke called to the eldest brother, “Have you been at that little flame-haired doxy you call a sister yet, Tory?”  The stocky young man laughed.  “No, father, I’ve not had the minx, pretty as she is.”

Jonathan, who was stroking off the boy sitting in his lap, spoke in his cruel, nasty voice.  “Aye, father, you forbade it - claimed you wanted to deflower the little Scott yourself, while mother let some of that impure Scottish blood out of her tits.”  

Duchess Giselle had caught pregnant with husband of one of the Scotts while her husband had entertained his new wife.  She’d done it in front of the girl to humiliate her, and had laughed at the curse the brown haired girl had damned them with as her husband had roughly used her.  The Duke had had them tied together and whipped to death for pagan curses in the courtyard of the church at the castle.  They’d never been able to consummate the marriage, and as a final insult Vicar Charles had declared the marriage null and void before God as they died.

“So I did, my boy, so I did.  Go fetch your sister and the vicar.  I think we’ve a show tonight that should make even your hot blooded mother more randy than usual.”  The Duchess laughed and Tory pulled up his hose and walked purposefully out of the great hall, still chuckling.  

Eurydice.

“Come poppet, another two shakes will do it.  That’s right - cinnamon is a strong one, and you mustn’t overdo it!”  The head cook was a matronly woman, wide of girth, silver-haired, and kind as the day was long.  She was the only remaining person in the entire castle that the red-headed princess could call ‘friend’.  Other than a small cat and two or three servants, Eurydice had no one else to look towards for companionship.  

She was also unique in that she was the only maiden in the castle worthy of the name.  Neither buggered, nor forced to fellate; the pale, freckled, and blue-eyed princess retained her maidenhead intact.  This had not stopped her brothers and sister from humiliating and abusing her in other ways.  Between the periodic unholy baptism by her sister’s ‘golden blessing’ and occasional showers of her brothers’ seed she wouldn’t call herself pure.  Only her father’s perverse desires kept her virginity intact, and she was fearful that soon he would take her to his bed, and very likely with her mother there as well.  

Eurydice’s distraction caught the cook’s attention and the large woman straightened, wiping her hands on her apron.  “Here now, poppet, go out to the gardens for a bit.  You’d feel better there, you always do.”  Her gentle encouragement did not help, but the slender woman-child smiled and curtsied, slipping from the kitchens as quiet as any ghost.

While her brothers and sister had good British names, she’d been given a name from the Greeks, one of the three furies.  When she’d been a babe her voice had been as penetrating and shrill as a banshee’s.  Her obvious Scottish heritage had further made her anathema to her family, for which the blame was laid squarely upon her shoulders rather than her profligate mother.  The one friend near her age, her wet-nurse’s daughter, had been whipped to death by her mother for seduction after her father and youngest brother had raped her.  Since then she’d been careful not to make other friends.

When she caught sight of her brother Tory’s huge shadow sliding along the wall she glanced about to see if there were a place to hide.  Not seeing one she squared her shoulders and took a deep breath, putting on the arrogant, expressionless mask with which she’d defended herself against her evil family and its attendants.  Tory smiled at her, a smile that made her stomach fill with butterflies though she kept her expression neutral.  

“Come along, little kitten, father wants to see you in the great hall.”  Tory was large, but not slow; he’d easily outdistance her and she could expect worse than whatever would happen.  Eurydice was fairly certain her period of grace was over.  Tory smiled as her expression changed ever so little.  “Let’s not keep our father waiting kitten.  I’m sure he’ll want to see what Matthias has cooked up for us to see tonight.”

The mention of the evil monk’s name turned the butterflies to ice inside her belly.  She’d always known he was evil, and the man had convinced her father to secure her virginity from her siblings.  Matthias had often taken her to the church to do penance for learning about pagan rituals and beliefs from the serfs - usually just before or just after bed, when she was dressed in little more than a near-transparent shift.  As she’d filled out the shifts hadn’t gotten bigger, but smaller, until more skin was showing than covered.  Humiliated by the pig-eyed churchman and the salacious monk, she’d been forced to perform penances that had left her kneeling for hours on the cold stone, displayed nearly naked and not truly covered before much of the castle as he’d given services.  

Her brother’s hand came down upon her shoulder and gripped her in a bruising manner.  Eurydice struggled not to cry out, and Tory leaned close.  “Tonight you’ll finally be free of our father and mother; in fact, you’ll never have to worry about any of us ever again.”  Despite the sound of it, Eurydice couldn’t for a moment believe that she would be married off to another family.  Not only was it unlikely that any British nobility would accept a Scott like herself into their arms, but her brother sounded far too self-satisfied.  He was never so kind; even her nickname stemmed from the idea that she should have been drowned like an unwanted kitten rather than any affection.

Conjuration.

When they arrived in the great hall, the fire had been banked, and the many candelabras lit.  The smoky glow revealed all the servants and all but two of the most brutish men-at-arms had been sent away.  All the doors were closed as Tory shoved her forward and closed and barred the door after them.  In the center of the room Seraphina was kneeling on top of Jonathan, fucking him slowly and moaning in pleasure.  A circle had been scribed in the center of the room; they were in the center of a chalk diagram of a large crescent, with a smaller circle off-set to one side to form it so.  

She was surprised when little Arthur placed a silver chain around her throat, with a smile.  “It’s such a pity, but I suppose we must make father happy.”  He was charming, even with his voice cracking as it was.  Glancing down at the necklace, she saw an odd Star of David hung from it in gold.  But there was a double line, an arrow that imitated one of the points, and also a curious little ‘+’ with long arms at the bottom of it.  She moved to take it off and Tory swatted her derrière forcefully - much to their mother’s amusement.  “Leave it,” he commanded and Eurydice flushed hotly.

The Duke watched disinterestedly as Seraphina, having finished with her brother, squatted over where he’d lain under her, and let his seed drip from her body.  As their mother rose to approach the youngest daughter, Eurydice watched the vicar murmur a half hearted prayer and cross himself lazily at the sight of Seraphina performing her depravity.  Tory moved to settle into the seat beside his father, and murmured something that her father smiled at.  Mathias stood at the edge of the chalked circles, watching as Seraphina deposited the last of the seed in her body - Eurydice was disgusted by where it had come from - on the floor.  

“Well, my daughter, it is time you earned your place among your kin.  It is a pity it must be for so short a time….”  As Eurydice opened her mouth to reply, Duchess Giselle forced a deep kiss upon her, surprising the girl into silence.  Then her hands and ankles were grasped, and she felt cold metal being placed about her limbs.  She struggled out of the kiss, and spat at her mother.  Giselle laughed and walked back to her husband, leaning close so he could lick his daughter’s spittle from her cheek.  

The two guards lifted her as she struggled and laid her in the large circle.  To her despair she realized that her hands were bound together, but her ankles had been bound apart by a length of wood that left her legs spread wide.  Her little brother and Seraphina used knives to cut her clothing away, and she cried out, the lovely clothing that had been a gift from her friend’s mother a loss she could hardly bear.  Jonathan laughed and took a coin from Matthias.  

Kneeling next to her as his sister stood up and pulled a dress on, he said in his sharp, hateful voice, “You’ll take this and hold it in your teeth - otherwise, I’ll be forced to break them and shove it in your mouth anyways.  Though I’m sure Tory would be happy to shove something else in your mouth.”  Cheeks burning, Eurydice opened her mouth and let her older brother place the coin between her teeth - though he forced his fingers a little deeper to make her taste of what was on them - sour and salty and altogether unpleasant.  Sneering at her discomfort her brother walked to join the others in their family, who had gathered near - though not too near - the large circle and its unwilling inhabitant.  

Her mother and father came forward, her father bearing a goblet of crystal, her mother bearing a shining dagger of chipped black glass.  Matthias grabbed her wrists and held them up as her mother squatted over her face, while her father did the same over her waist.  She was forced to watch as her mother cut her right wrist and let her blood flow into the crystal cup, and Matthias murmured encouragement.  Her father leered as he observed Eurydice’s aversion to looking into her mother’s soiled and dank smelling feminine places.

Once the goblet was half full her father placed it in the smaller circle, which the girl saw lay in the space between her legs.  Shame filled her as she realized she was wide open, the soft coppery down of her feminine hair almost nonexistent.  Matthias, holding an ancient and rusted broadsword, moved to stand just behind her head, his robes parting just enough so that she could see he was emasculated.  The dagger her mother had used was laid between her breasts, the point glistening crimson at it rested just at her throat.  Only a whimper escaped her, as she clutched the weird coin between her teeth tightly.

Matthias began to speak, while Vicar Charles and the entire Hollows family watched, curious and excited….

Arrival.

A touch of something strange flitted across Xandi’s essence as it slipped between the flows of two of its kindred.  Its name symbol had been placed about the neck of someone with power.  Another fleeting touch and it felt more power coming from whatever greater life was holding its name.  Curious, as its limitations required, the Daemon shifted closer to the Worlds and felt the draw of a beautiful song.  There was fear and pain and despair in that song, and power, such power.  A purity and grace as well.  All these things called to Xandi, and it shifted closer yet.

Then another song came, a cruel, heartless, unfeeling song of command and binding.  The Daemon struggled against the forces arrayed against it.  No power, no glowing life, no essence was worth the agony of existing in the world.  It might have come willingly for the greater life that had called it first, but this passionless intellect that bore only life itself said the names and words that forced Xandi to come.

Bindings.

Eurydice was shocked when silver flames erupted all around her and she almost cried out, stopped only by the coin threatening to fall into her throat and choke her.  The outer circle and the symbols inside it had burst into glowing fire that did not burn.  The inner circle between her parted legs erupted into beautiful golden flame.  Her family was awestruck, and the vicar neglected to cross himself.  The guards stood nearby, waiting for anything that might occur.

The seed her sister had spilled upon the floor in the smaller circle burst into violet flames.  Eurydice whimpered but did not move, afraid that if she did she might cause something worse to happen.  Matthias’ voice droned on and on, invoking blasphemous names and accursed powers, demanding that the daemon come forth and present itself to its master.  The flames intensified and a thick, black curl of smoke issued from it slowly, twisting in the dead air of the darkened hall.  

Xandi would have screamed in agony, if it had been capable of such a thing.  In all truth, taking a physical form was not as discomfiting to Xandi as it was to many of its kind.  Its physical form was less cohesive, less binding, less confining than others.  However, between the summoning and the conjuration, two separate methods of calling the daemon forth from between the Worlds and placing it into the World Itself - the physical ‘real’ world - Xandi was forced to obey the dictates of the conjuration.  The daemon preferred the gentler, more beautiful summonings, but the conjurations were bound deep into its Limitations and forced it to perform as commanded.

Staring at the horror unfolding before her Eurydice did not even attempt to fight her bondage; her eyes were fixed upon the slowly thickening black cloud that towered over her.  It swirled up from the seed that was slowly being consumed by the daemon-fire flickering and dancing between her spread legs.

Duke Bartholomew gasped softly, “God!” as Matthias continued his murmured chants and invocations.  Vicar Charles quickly crossed himself, which had no effect on the thick black swirl of cloud.  Violet fire flickered at the edges and inside the swelling darkness.  As it billowed and swirled above the smaller circle and over the helpless woman-child, the seed upon the stone floor turned to a dull grey powder and the blood in the crystal goblet seethed and became a soft black dust.  

Seraphina turned to her twin and hugged him tight, while Arthur shuddered uncontrollably.  Tory watched, a cruel gleam in his eyes as he wondered if the demon would spill her blood, consume her whole, or turn her to dust.  Matthias spoke aloud in English.  “I adjure thee Xanadrianis, to take a form pleasing to us, and commence upon our bargaining that ye may serve me best!”  The cloud whirled madly, the incantations and spells that bound it seeming to cause it pain.

The conjurer had bound it well.  Xandi drew tendrils of thought across the slimy, filthy, fireless minds around it, as well as the burning mind that lay before it.  The essences of the seed, the secretions, and the power-filled blood gave it substance.  Form was something mutable and of little consequence to Xandi, but the Limitations that were activated by the conjurer forced it to take on a semblance of humanity.  The desires and passions of the minds about it gave it information to work with.  The fear and terror of the one who had summoned it was not pleasant, though understandable; it took from that mind traits that would ease the fear and terror a bit, while from the mind of the conjurer it took the idealized beauty it desired.  From the decadent, depraved, incestuous and twisted minds about it, it took bits and pieces of their fantasies and pleasures and desires to build upon the foundations it had formed.

With a completely theatrical swirl it formed a semblance of humanity.  Kneeling deeply on one knee, head bowed, the beautiful creature was human in shape: slender, pale skinned, with a short thicket of curly black hair.  It raised it face to look up at Matthias; heart shaped, and heartbreakingly beautiful, the daemon’s face was neither male nor female, but an androgynous beauty that combined the best of both.  The slender form was equally androgynous, seeming to be little more than a child of fifteen or sixteen summers.  A loose, short sleeved black tunic covered its body, while soft black breeches with slightly shortened legs and slits to the knees hid what sex - if any - the daemon had chosen.  Almond shaped eyes of dark violet gazed up at the monk, while a delicate, secretive smile graced the Cupid’s-bow lips.  

Xandi looked down at the helpless female before it, eyes glittering with amusement and interest.  Here before it was its summoner, bound and chained like a sacrifice.  The fires of her power and purity streamed off of her like the winds of the sun; and the conjurer was little more than a mortal being who had sacrificed its gender for whatever reason.  The twin powers that bound it to its Limitations were in serious conflict and the conflict irritated the strange daemon.

“Behold, Duke of Hollows, the daemon Xanadrianis.”  Matthias was breathing hard, but quite pleased with the results.  “It is a daemon which can take any form you desire….it should provide a great deal of sport for you this night.  But we must give it the virgin sacrifice….”  Suddenly Eurydice’s brothers’ words made perfect sense.  She would no longer be joining in her family’s pleasures because the daemon would consume her soul and she would be damned to hell for all eternity.  She began to struggle anew and the daemon moved closer, curiously watching her attempts to escape as it knelt between her legs.

Duke Bartholomew moved closer, his wife - fearless and regal as ever, bless her dark heart - accompanied him.  “Any form?  That of a lion or a dog perhaps?”  The Duke ignored his daughter’s pleading gaze as the others approached hesitantly.  He ignored his daughter and looked at the violet-eyed daemon before him.  It looked up at him, a frighteningly intense look that the Duke ignored easily.  His wife licked her lips and glanced sidelong at the cowering Seraphina, and a dark thought entered her mind.  “Even a dragon?” she asked curiously.

“All of those, and others besides, my lord.  I will give it the lovely Eurydice, and it will obey my commands for the time of three nights and two days, if that is acceptable to you my lord.”  Matthias ignored the crying, whimpering girl below him and gestured at Xandi, who looked up at him as though in a dream.  “By your leave?”  

“My lord, you do imperil your soul in this act, I should warn you.”  The Vicar’s stentorian tone was not truly meant to dissuade him, but to let him know this would be expensive.  “I must insist you look to the safety of your soul, as well as those of your family.”  The Vicar cared not at all for Matthias’ soul; he was already damned, and Charles didn’t like the man in any case.  

“I’ll give you a sizable donation - or perhaps, I will see to the building of a new chapel, separate from the castle.  That way you may indulge your parishioners and yourself in your work to your hearts content.”  The Duke said it off hand, but he was already hard under his tunic and hose, and he was eager to let the games begin.  His wife was murmuring dark things that sounded interesting to try in his ear, and Matthias smiled coldly.  The Vicar was effusively grateful, in words at least; in truth he considered the Duke and his people as little more than a way to ensure a comfortable life for himself.

Escape.

To the daemon, this entire situation was intolerable!  The conjurer was going to try to make it consume its summoner as part of the bargaining process, which of course was impossible.  The fear that she radiated was not appealing to Xandi either; the essences it preferred to consume were more substantial and passionate things.  Most of the others here could be driven to form or release such essences but the pure, undiluted essences of the bound magus would be far more palatable and filled with her power.

As the humans discussed things in their stilted, halting manner Xandi ran through the songs of their minds.  While many of them were passionate and dark, they were born of sickness and stunted self worth, an effort to escape the bondage of their meaningless lives.  The purity of the bound magus’ song made the twisted songs of wanton desires and lustful violence dull and vapid by comparison however.  It didn’t matter to the daemon that the magus had no passions of the flesh she’d sought to fulfill.  Her virginal purity only made the potential for such ecstasy greater.

It was the conjurer who really annoyed the daemon.  The threads of understanding cast through his mind revealed to Xandi his profound ignorance and hopeless egotism.  He wasn’t even aware that two separate calls had been put forth to Xandi, and that the summons of the magus were far more powerful.  He didn’t even understand how the circles worked!

While her wicked family and the evil monk discussed her fate, Eurydice slowly twisted her hands and feet, testing the manacles while trying to avoid the attention of those around her.  She could feel the daemon’s otherness crawling along her skin like cool fire, and while no one else seemed to feel it she felt the questioning sensation in her mind, and recoiled at the strangeness of the feelings within that touch.  Surprisingly there was no malice or hatred in that caress, only curiosity and a strong desire to be free.  At first she’d thought it a reflection of her own desire to be free, but when the tendril of other awareness fled, so did that knowledge.  

It was a shock to realize that the daemon had absolutely no desire to harm her.  She’d been taught, as all were, that daemons were servants of evil, and existed only to destroy and kill, and drive men to horrible acts.  Eurydice had certainly not expected the daemon Xanadrianis to be more interested in dancing and listening to songs.  

Irritated beyond all measure, Xandi let her form dissolve into a fine black mist and slid over Eurydice’s leg and along her thigh as it moved like a curl of dark smoke to rise behind the monk.  The sensation was not unpleasant, and actually made the young woman-child’s body tingle in a manner she hadn’t expected.  Watching as the daemon rose and took on a stranger shape behind the evil monk Matthias, she tensed, realizing what the others had not yet observed.  

It was Seraphina’s scream that alerted the others to what had occurred.  Tory jumped back with a gasp and the two men at arms moved forward, their spears lowered.  Jonathan shuddered and held his twin tightly while Arthur shrieked and wet himself.  The Duke merely looked surprised, too thick witted to realize what had frightened the others so much.  The Duchess moaned in terror and her nails drew blood from the Duke’s arm.

Matthias turned and confronted a towering shadowy figure, not even remotely human, though it was humanoid in appearance.  Glowing eyes of violet and red fire gleamed from the featureless black face of the daemon.  Caught between cloud and human, Xandi glared at the monk as violet flame shot through the clouds that its torso fell away into.  It completed its transformation and floated in its human guise several feet off the floor, half sitting upon air as it smiled wickedly at the monk.

With a shocked cry the monk flung his hand out in a warding gesture, realizing the daemon was no longer in the smaller circle of golden flame.  His interpretation of how the circles worked had led him to believe the daemon was unable to harm him in the circles, and he’d taken that to mean that the circles would trap the demon inside.  Xandi was perfectly aware of every nuance of the conjuration spells and summoning rites it could be bound by; it would never harm someone inside the circles of power, any more than it would leave the room that the smaller summoning circle had been scribed and empowered within.  

Taking a fearful step back, the monk shouted cruel words of command and imprisonment, which made Xandi blink at him and radiate confusion.  The spells had already been cast and it was bound tightly to physical form and power.  They wouldn’t change anything or bind it tighter.  But then, in his haste to escape the daemon’s close scrutiny, Matthias made the fatal error.  He set one foot outside the circle of silvery flame and scuffed the delicate chalk lines; with a shimmering flare the fires of power crafted by his spells was extinguished so that only the small golden circle remained.  

Vengeance.

Xanadrianis and Matthias stared at one another in astonishment.  Matthias had been certain the small circle would contain the daemon, when in fact it only limited the daemon to the room in which the circle burned.  Xandi could not harm anyone or anything inside the greater circle….but there was no longer a greater circle.  Matthias, to Xandi’s shocked amazement, had destroyed the boundary of his magics, and had no defense against the daemon save those his words could form.  

The Duchess shrieked and the humans scattered, save for the duke and his two men-at-arms, as the delicate daemon dissolved into dark shadow.  Then it was upon the monk, a massive black lion with burning eyes of violet flame, tearing with claws and fangs at the throat and chest of the would-be conjurer.  Matthias was drowning in his own blood and fell back, as the daemon savaged him brutally.  Lifting its unbloodied muzzle, the lion silently moved towards the Duke, changing into a massive hound.  

The spears of the men-at-arms and the Duke’s dagger ripped through the smoky flesh of the shapeshifter, revealing violet fire and flesh as black as the body, but neither blood nor pain.  The hound was on Duke Bartholomew, and tore him open, leaving him bloodied and screaming.  Rising in the form of a massive humanoid shadow, the daemon lashed with angry mind at those who were trying to open the doors, leaving them shrieking in agony as it showed them how pathetic and contemptible they were.  Then it was on the twins, a searing cloud of black mist and violet fire, consuming the essences that had given it form and substance.  

Tory shrieked and stumbled back into the table as the cloud rose to float above the withered and seared corpses of the twins.  Then it was a serpentine creature, a massive lizard that ran down Tory as he tried to escape.  Eurydice closed her eyes and shook as the beast took its time with the cruel older brother, doing things to him that she dared not imagine from the noises they made together.  Leaving the broken, ravished body of the son of the Duke of Hollows, the daemon became the pretty androgyne, which turned and looked at the last prince hiding behind his father’s guards.  

A wicked smile crossed the pretty lips as the prince told the daemon to take his sister, take the guards, but let him live.  The Vicar, surprisingly, stepped in front of the guards, lifting his cross and condemning the daemon with the words of the Lord God Almighty.

The song he sang had no true power in it, though at one time it might have.  The corruption and disease that had ravaged the Vicar’s song had also claimed any potency it may have had.  The delicate refrain was pretty, but powerless to oppose the daemon.  Xandi lifted its hands and gestured with violence towards the priest.  

The foolish, greedy Vicar Charles screamed as violet fire erupted about him, making him writhe in agony though it did not burn him.  Crying out he collapsed to his knees, dropping the cross and the bible he’d held.  The instant he released them white fire erupted around each and burned off the violet flames that had engulfed them.  The Vicar was not so fortunate and felt his essential self burned and torn from his body, leaving a withered husk of dried meat in a rotting and soiled cassock.  

Arthur screamed and ran to the door, but the daemon became a thread of mist that snaked between the two guards, and clamped fangs upon the thigh of the pretty young man.  The snake ignored the guards trying to pry it from the youth’s body as it slowly wrapped itself about him, filling his veins with daemonic fire.  Screaming in agony, the boy vomited violet flame and blood as the daemon Xanadrianis crushed life and essence from his frail young body.  Then it turned on the guards.

Release.

Through all the chaos and mayhem, Eurydice was attempting to escape her bonds.  The heavy manacles and iron chains were not forgiving however, and she was forced to lie still and listen as horrors were visited upon her cruel, twisted kin and the fearless but ultimately foolish guards.  Shaking, she waited for the daemon to destroy her.  She prayed silently, not to the one God of the church, which had held no power over the daemon, but to the God and Goddess of the older faiths of her homeland - Scotland rather than Great Britain.

The dark cloud of the daemon formed next to her left side and slowly became the delicate, pretty androgyne.  Violet eyes gazed down at her helpless, naked body with amusement, and a delicate smile graced the soft coral lips.  Eurydice shivered on the hard stone floor.  She held the coin in her teeth still, but her eyes begged for her freedom.

Xandi had enjoyed the intense, beautiful song the female had sent forth.  The pure white fire that engulfed her would burn the daemon’s essences badly if it attempted to harm her.  Harming the young woman-child was actually not in the daemon’s thoughts.  She had summoned the daemon, or been used to summon the daemon, and that put injury and pain off the lists of things Xandi could do to her.  The desire for freedom she put to the daemon was perfectly understandable and so Xandi obeyed.

Slowly the daemon placed delicate fingers against the coin and removed it from between the clenched teeth of the beautiful girl.  Her red hair spilled along her back in a wave of coppery brightness and her blue eyes shimmered with tears.  Gently the daemon took the dagger; its tip was still covered in dried blood, and Xandi set it to the side where the coin rested.  The blood fell away as a black powder as Xandi tasted the essences of the magus’ blood again with a delighted smile.  

Leaning close, the daemon ran the tip of its tongue delicately along the trail of tears along Eurydice’s cheek, tasting of the power and essences of the ocean-water that flowed from her eyes.  Leaning back, it savored the power therein before turning its attention to the manacles at the woman-child’s wrists.  In a startling blur of black smoke the daemon reformed itself to straddle the waist of the ‘sacrifice’.  It smiled as the beautiful young woman shivered in terror.  Soft, delicate hands were placed on Eurydice’s belly and she choked back a sob of terror.  The hands did not move for some time, and she was not burning in the violet flames the daemon could summon.  

As she calmed, Eurydice stared at the daemon, who stared back with the enigmatic smile gracing its delicate lips.  Slowly the hands moved up, over the woman-child’s firm breasts lightly, and then up along her arms to grasp her wrists gently.  Xandi felt the racing pulse under her palms and sighed softly in pleasure at the warmth and sensation of the magus’ body under its own.  Turning its piercing gaze upon the manacles Xandi devoured the dead, cold essences of the metal; it was only able to do so because they were part of what was offered by the body of the magus.  If they had not been in contact with the mage, it would not have been able to do so.

Startled, embarrassed, and still fearful, Eurydice slowly rubbed her chafed and bloodied wrists gently.  The daemon’s expression became positively hungry as she did so, and the naked need in its eyes terrified the princess - Duchess now, she supposed.  She moved her legs and was startled to discover they too were free.  A gentle, intimate thought entered her mind; the daemon wished to taste the blood upon her wrists.  Yet the daemon made no move to do so, when Eurydice was well aware it could easily slay her outright.

The intimate thought intruded again, and Eurydice simply understood she was far beyond the daemon’s touch so long as the golden circle burned.  She had summoned Xandi, and Xandi would obey, much as it disliked the fact.  The gifts she had given were kind, and did ease the daemon’s ire however.  The daemon would be even kinder if more were given freely, and it would take only what she allowed as the Limitations required.  The circle would burn as long as Eurydice desired and the daemon was bound to the room and to the woman-child as long as that was so.  

Head spinning, confused and yet elated to be free, the young woman slowly offered her wrists to the daemon.  With a delighted burst of emotion the daemon slowly licked the warm blood from Eurydice’s hands and wrists, tasting the silvery fire of the magus’ power in the most intimate manner it was allowed.  Violet eyes caught and held blue ones, and with a startled flush Eurydice found the intimate action of the soft, warm tongue exciting in some strange manner.

When the last of the blood was removed, the daemon slowly passed into smoke and took on the form of a great cat, unlike a lion but sleek and beautiful.  It paced slowly around the woman-child, as she stood unsteadily.  As she made her way to one of the doors, the cat became a large wolf that walked at her side.  The violet eyes of fire watched her unerringly, but there was no threat or hatred in them.  Stopping some distance away from the doorway, the daemon observed as Eurydice made to leave.

Bound by the mixture of summons and conjuration, Xandi could not do anything of any real value to escape or enforce its will upon others so it turned and moved back into the room.  Eurydice shuddered and opened the door, checking to see if there were guards about, and was vastly relieved when the hallway revealed itself to be unoccupied.  She hesitated, however, and looked back at the strangely gentle daemon.  

Xandi was dancing.

Freedom.

The daemon shifted from human form to that of a medium sized deer, a two point buck that pranced and capered as if it was playing among the fields outside the castle.  In mid leap it became a swirl of dense black cloud, violet flames flickering through it, and slipped to the ground to become a great snake, more massive than any Eurydice had ever heard tale of.  The snake moved slowly, languidly weaving in tune to some music she could not hear.  In a rush it became a wild boar, and trotted in circles about the glowing fire in the center of the hall.

Entranced by the shapeshifter’s play Eurydice hesitated and then slowly shut the door, remaining in the room.  She watched the daemon dance, leap, caper and sway in time to whatever unearthly melody drove it to do so.  New wetness touched her cheeks as she realized that unless she did something the daemon would be forever trapped in this room, unable to leave; the church would come and destroy it, or try.  Yet for all it’s fearsome death dealing it had not harmed her.  Her family had been destroyed, as had the guards, but they had been wicked, evil people, or people who had tried to destroy the daemon.

Xandi danced to the song of the summoner’s blood and the fire she left to burn for it.  It was not as satisfying as the dance it held between the Worlds but it was a dance and the music had become more pleasant once its caller had been set free.  The daemon felt the wash of concern and appreciation from the magus and slowly ended the dance, taking once more the form that was least threatening to the young female.

Slowly the princess - no, she decided, just Eurydice now - Eurydice approached the daemon as it stood in the circle of golden fire in the middle of the hall.  It was smiling, that enigmatic little smile that seemed half mocking and half amused by the world it was trapped within.  Hesitantly she moved to just outside the small circle and looked at the daemon.  Taking a deep breath she spoke to it.

“I cannot blame you for what you have done.  But….you do not seem a dangerous creature.  You acted in just cause, and punished the wicked and the foolish.”  Taking a deep breath, Eurydice knelt on the floor and reached for the cool golden fire.  Xandi watched, confused by the actions of its summoner.  “I pray you will not harm the innocent, or those who do not deserve it.  My the goddess have mercy on me.”  

With a sudden swipe she rubbed the chalk lines away with her hand, the golden fire engulfing her wrist and hand and not leaving a mark.  “I set you free!” she said formally.  The fires went out instantly and the daemon Xanadrianis stood unbound, staring at the young woman-child who knelt before it, helpless, defenseless.

Eurydice’s eyes were closed and she waited for the searing violet fires of the daemon’s power to fall upon her.  Then gentle hands were touching her cheeks and she opened startled blue eyes.  Xandi was kneeling before her, violet eyes bright and wide with wonder.  The daemon gently pulled Eurydice to it and kissed her softly, gently.  A flush of heat erupted deep inside Eurydice and she tentatively returned the kiss, half expecting sudden death to follow.  The kiss was broken slowly and she opened her eyes to see the daemon rising, becoming black smoke, and flowing swiftly from the room through the fireplace, leaving her unharmed and shaken.

After.

Eurydice kept the coin, the dagger, and the necklace; with these three things and treasures stolen she fled the castle, returning to her father’s family.  When she told her tale, she was accepted into her father’s family, and with the wealth she brought they moved to another town many miles deeper in the moors, where she became a midwife, and was a beloved part of her true family.

The Castle of Hollows was soon ransacked by frightened and uncontrolled servants and guards; eventually a new lord came to take his place and rule the villages nearby.  Rumors of a persistent haunting presence remained, and the church was eventually taken over by a devout and honest young minister who cleansed the castle of evil.  

Xandi fled to the wide world outside, but it remained a presence in the life of Eurydice McMichael in the form of a phantom that warned her of danger and death and comforted her in her occasional loneliness for she would never marry.  Those who threatened or harmed her kith or kin soon were visited by the grim black dog and death soon followed; but there was none who could claim witchcraft at work.  After Eurydice’s death, Xandi danced across the world, seeking new songs of life and power, and leaving behind a trail of myth and legend where it passed.

End.

~XS