Holy Opposites 10

	Axio sat back down at his desk.  “So, may I ask why you have made some of these promises?”

	“Sure.”

	“Why no using your powers unless in self-defense, or when in the flock?  Surely you don’t think them inherently bad,” Axio observed.  “Warlocks use those powers to aid our men in the field, in campaigns, sometimes.”

	“Well, no, it’s true,” Cavria admitted, “but the power source is the Nine Hells.  Ryaire doesn’t bestow those powers on me, they’re just there.  If I overuse them in an area where no Succubae are present, somebody may notice and come to see what’s happening.”

	“Ah, wise,” Axio said, nodding.  “And why no sex?  Didn’t Ryaire take your ability to harm others with intimacy away?”

	Cavria shrugged.  “I’m a Succubus, sir.  I may learn to like it too much.  Taking control from others through false submission is… deeply addicting to my kind.  Even some humans and other mortals feel that urge.  Properly supervised and with consent, of course, mortals aren’t harmed by it, but...” Cavria sighed.  “Well, Ryaire may have taken my soul-draining power away, but I still have instincts I should not learn to enjoy.”

	Axio smiled warmly, surprising her.  “You will learn not to fear them, I suspect.  This world would look very different if we mortal types didn’t learn to control our instincts.”

	She smiled back.  “That’s very kind of you to say, sir, but I am not mortal.”

	“No, but you looked the Hell-King and a Balor in the eye and lived to impress a goddess after the fact, at the tender age of one week,” Axio pointed out.  “You’re got strength.”

	Cavria felt taller all of a sudden.  “Well… thank you, sir.”

	“Axio.”

	“No, I’m sorry,” she said.  “Technically, you vastly outrank me.  We both took our Oaths of Piety, but I haven’t taken the Oath of Devotion, and you’re a Chosen.”

	“Axio in private, at least, I insist,” the Aasimar said.  “Titles are for the public.  We’re all equal in Ryaire’s eyes.  The Ilmateri are the same way.”

	“Very well… Axio,” she said.  “All right.  What now?”

	“Now we eat,” Axio said.  Cavria blinked.  “It’s well past morning,” Axio pointed out.  “I’m ravenous, and you’ve been talking for hours.”

	“I don’t really need food,” Cavria said.  “I barely even need water and sleep.  One of the very few perks of being a devil.”

	Axio nodded.  “Outsider, right, of course.  Well, I’m famished.  Mind if I get some food?”

	“Of course not,” Cavria said.  “I’ll wait here.”

	“No, you’ll come with me,” Axio said.  “I want you to see the city we’re about to explore.”

	She blinked.  “Oh.  Uh, very well, then, lead the way.”


Chapter Seven:


	Axio lead the way through the Sea Ward.  A large, well-paved thoroughfare cut through the district, lined with pretty façades and tall, wind-swept buildings.

	“First time in a big city?” he asked quietly.

	“Well, I was born in a city, in a way,” Cavria said drily, “but it’s the first time I’ve been in one conscious.”

	Axio rolled his eyes.  Her wit was perhaps a bit too dry for his liking, but if that was how she coped, he’d shut his mouth and deal with it.  “Right.  This is the Sea Ward.  It’s sort of… well, it’s not the government district, but a lot of retired adventurers and merchants live here, so there’s a lot of nuveau riche, if you get my drift.”

	“Conspicuous wealth and conspicuous consumption,” Cavria guessed.  She had her amulet on now, and she was still wearing somewhat low-class clothes, albeit perfectly clean ones.

	“More or less.  Good people and fair police, though, and that’s what matters,” Axio said.  “I grew up four blocks from here.”

	“Oh, you were born here?”

	“In the back room of a chapel, to the immense consternation of the midwife and swaddle,” Axio chuckled.  “They were not expecting an Aasimar baby.”

	“Oh, of course,” Cavria giggled.  She looked around the streets at the press of people.  “So busy.  I like it.  Solitude is nice, but I learned to like crowds in the Arbor.”

	Axio turned to her.  “I will ask that you be a bit more discreet about your planar travels here,” he said softly.  “This city has had real trouble with planar gates and beings and the like, and planeswalkers are not especially welcome.  Even involuntary ones.”

	Cavria winced.  “Okay, sir.  So… where are we going?”

	“A little bakery near here.”  Axio led her through the crowd to a humble brick building that smelled delicious from a block away.  “Here we are.”

	Cavria kept her eyes to herself as she walked in, but the sheer diversity of the crowd was enticing to her.  One of the bakers was a half-orc, she saw a gnome in the kitchen, and a half-elf worked the till.  Axio was an Aasimar, of course, and most customers were human.  “So many different people,” she murmured.  It would take a lot of getting used to, she imagined, since they were still alive.  For years, her only company had been the dead.


	After the meal, the two of them reconvened in the office, where friar Dreblin had prepared what little information there was to give.  “From what we have seen, and from the testimony of the City Watch, the cleric of Bane is operating from somewhere in the markets nearest the south end of the city,” the monk informed them.  Cavria was reading over a list of names, while Axio pored over a map.  “The abductions began two weeks ago.”

	“While I was off raising money and weapons,” Axio said calmly.  “Naturally.  Cowards.”

	“Where are these abductions taking place?” Cavria asked, still reading names.

	“I have them on the map, here,” the friar said.  Cavria looked up at him askance.

	“Sir, is it normal for the clergy to be handling this, instead of the Watch?”

	Dreblin shook his head.  “No, sister, not at all.  We were invited by the Watch to participate.”

	Axio scowled.  “Is this going to turn into a jurisdictional pissing match?”

	“Heavens, I hope not,” Dreblin said unhappily.

	There was a knock on the door.  It swung open to reveal two more Ryairans in informal robes.  “Axio!” the woman proclaimed, throwing her arms open and embracing her son.

	“Hello, mother,” Axio said, returning the hug.  “How have you been?”

	“Oh, I’m fine, Axio, how are you?  How was your journey?”


	I turned away from the family moment.  I wasn’t a part of this.  I picked up the map and list of names and walked out, past the family scene and into the hall.  I heard Axio trying delicately to convince his mother that it wasn’t the best time as I shut the door.

	I blew out a puff of impatient breath.  I had met his mother, briefly.  Fanielle was a nice enough woman, I supposed, but being the granddaughter of a goddess had made her a bit haughty, and perhaps unable to tell when she wasn’t the one with the best-informed opinion in the room.

	I walked past the closed doors of the rectory into a small garden at the back of the hall.  A pair of monks were just leaving after their own luncheon, and the place was empty besides them, as far as I could see.

	The stone wall that encircled the place was perhaps eight feet high, and had a large bay window set into the side, looking out over the hill that ran down to the ocean.  The garden itself was a mess of tomato vines wrapped around sticks, with some chives poking up in the corner.

	I sat in the corner under the window and enjoyed the salt breeze on my cheek.  My disguise was up, so I was safe.  I went back to reading the names and addresses of the lost children, feeling my good mood evaporate as I did.

	What did the Baneites do with the children, I wondered.  Why did they even want with children?  Sacrifice materials?  Spell components?  Slaves?

	I sighed and kept running down the list.  I winced as I recognized a few children’s names from the ones Ryaire had brought into the Arbor while I was there.  Clearly, whatever the Baneites were doing, it involved killing at least a few of these little innocents.  I wished a slow death on the ones responsible.

	I closed my eyes and ground my hands into my face as I remembered the look of sad resignation on Ryaire’s face when some of those little souls had awoken in the Arbor’s misty woods.  Some were so traumatized they couldn’t speak, and angels had taken them into the mist to tend to them until they were healed enough to play with the others.  Some had bounded up to her in fear, asking where their parents were, interrupting our lessons.  I had always hidden myself when that happened.  I don’t know why.  Baneites aren’t fiend-worshippers, nor do they serve Hell, but I still felt self-conscious.  Maybe because I was built for evil, and the Baneites reveled in it.

	Speculation was useless.  I forced myself to return to the task at hand.  I looked over the list, resolute again.  There was work to be done.

	The door to the garden swung open.  I paid it little heed, focused as I was on matching names to locations.

	“Excuse me.”

	I looked up.  Axio was standing there with a tea tray and a book in his hands.  “Mind if I join you?  I finally got my parents off my back.”

	“Sure.”  I scooted over so he could set his things down in the light from the window.  It was still bright afternoon in Waterdeep.

	“Find a pattern in there?” he asked.

	“Not yet.”  I shook my head.  “I know some of these names.  Ryaire brought some of them to the Arbor, right before I left.”

	Axio sighed, eyes shut.  “Fantastic.”