It will get worse before it gets better

The witch gives you some time alone to sort your emotions. When your anger has subsided, you decide it might be time to get dressed again, if for no other reason than to cover that damned mark. Your novice robes seem inappropriate. It is the clothing you've worn for your entire adult life, but the idea of putting it back on now seems somehow absurd. Instead, you accept the other pile of clothes Indra set out for you. The top is a form-fitting bodice, white, and sleeveless. The witch's build is similar enough to your own that it actually fits quite well. On Indra, it would push her generous breasts up obscenely, but even your modest bust appears to have an attractive swell of cleavage. Also provided were a pair of leather pants, similar to what your new friend is wearing, and a pair of knee-high boots that lace all the way up. You could never have imagined yourself wearing clothes that emphasized your slender body so much, but you have to admit that you like that way it looks on you. Finally, you tie your hair back into a pony tail to keep it out of your face.

All things considered, you feel better now than you've felt since you were first attacked in the abbey. But when you return to the window to stare out into the omni-present rain, your hand drifts to your stomach. "Indra, the War Mother tasked me with a mission. I don't know how to continue on until I can do something about this. Can you help me?"

The woman had maintained some distance while you arranged your thoughts and your appearance, busying herself tidying her home. She stood beside you now, placing a hand over yours. "It's complicated. I saw something in your thoughts. The daemon that marked you was slain. That would not spare your womb from his seed, but it would break his connection as your master. I sense that is not the case. The connection seems to have developed further. This means the daemon that bred you is a tenacious little hellspawn."

"You're aware that most slain daemons are not really killed, but instead banished from our reality for a number of generations, or until a mortal is foolish enough to summon it specifically. I believe that the daemon that marked you has affected the conception of the spawn inside you somehow, and intends to return to our realm in the form of your offspring."

The thought that the creature that **** you would use your body to be reborn is appalling, but at this point, you're too emotionally exhausted to react. "Then... that would explain the dream."

The witch nods slowly. "Yes. Consequently, this bond is more powerful than usual, which means that the creature will likely resist most means to expel the spawn prematurely."

"Do I have **** but to bear the daemon child?" You ask the question as matter-of-factly as possible.

Indra pauses too long for your comfort before she responds. "I do not want to mislead you. There are methods, but it is probable that the daemon will not allow them. You need to know this: it IS your master. You will instinctively protect it even without being directly influenced."

You turn to look at Indra directly. You want to argue that the notion couldn't be further from the truth... but you find yourself unable to even deny the notion that the babe growing inside you is your master. This fact is an indelible truth. Indra notices your internal struggle but says nothing. "What, then?" You finally ask.

"As the daemon grows, so too will its power, and its influence over you. By the time it is born, you will be its sexual servant, just as you dreamed it. Long before that happens, it will be too late to save you. Too much of you and your daemon spawn will be bound together. It will feed your lust, and you will succumb to it, and that will feed it in turn. It will grow faster inside you, and more powerful."

"If you want to avoid that fate, we must remove the spawn from your belly. The best place to seek help is from your sisters at the High Abbey in Gerlangen, which, I understand was your destination anyway, so, cheers for that. But, we'll never make it in time unless you can master your desire."

With the challenges heaping upon you, this finally sounds like something you're prepared for. "I will renew my vow. I will remain chaste, and abstain from impu..."

Indra holds up a hand to interrupt you. "It's not that simple, Sabine. Abstinence is your first line of defense, but you won't have the Burning Rose guiding you anymore. Instead, it'll be a daemon whispering into your ear, tempting you in ways you haven't had to resist before. I'm talking about something else entirely."