My... Savior?

John awoke to nausea and a face full of blurry rectangles. He could vaguely hear voices beneath the deafeningly loud throbbing in his skull, which had him wishing to go back to sleep. Since that wasn’t possible, he figured he might as well try to start thinking straight. He wasn’t even sure where he was.

Things began to fall into place achingly slowly. John’s body seemed to be on the floor, but he was thankful at least to have something soft to rest his head on. Less so for the occasional jostling that came with it, but thankful nonetheless.

He listened. Distinguishable, feminine voices formed before the spinning shapes in his vision could agree upon a single image to display.

“I’m telling you, it was consensual!” hissed a voice he did not recognize.

“Impossible. I can feel your aura from here, demon!” Replied another, more distant voice. It was harsh and familiar.

“I only started emitting it after the fact, to make things more fun,” the deeper but less steady voice said.

“I severely doubt that,” said the second voice. “As if I would ever take the words of a demon at face value in the first place. Quit hiding behind your hostage and face me proper.”

“I’m telling the truth! I wasn’t going to hurt him!” The shout shot pain through John’s brain, but it was followed by a gentle hand on his forehead. It was, somehow, soothing.

“No? Then what were you siphoning from him, joint pain and sad feelings?” came the return accusation. John’s slowly returning wits finally gathered enough to identify the voice as Moira. Certainly no one else at school was so unyielding.

“It was just a little mana. A girl has to eat, you know,” the nearer voice said, hesitant.

“So, you admit to deliberately feeding on him then,” Moira shouted. Her voice flared with condemnation.

“No!”

Ow

“No, but...” The voice returned, softer. “Yes, It’s true. I fed on him, but that’s not why I did it. I can’t, I need to…” the voice faltered. “You’re the one who cracked his skull open!”

The counter argument was accompanied by a sudden lurch forward and a pair of hands pulling John closer and tighter to his resting place. He groaned in response.

“I…” It was Moira’s turn to stumble. “T-that’s irrelevant! Your actions led to my haste! You were the one to break the accord, not me!”

John’s senses had returned enough for him to see clearly. What he wanted was to look around and assess the situation he was in, such as why there was a door off its hinges laying on the floor next to him. Unfortunately, myriad notifications and achievement windows were blocking nearly his entire vision. One in particular, the most recent, stood out to him.

-
<Quest Failed>
Loser No More
Don’t get beat up at school.
-

“Oh, come ON!” John shouted and bolted upright. He regretted the movement, since it sent his vision spinning again, but he couldn’t help it.

“Newman!”

“John!”

The calls were simultaneous, surprised to see John already moving and fully conscious again. He angrily swiped aside all the remaining windows without the slightest care for what they were. Whatever had just happened, he’d been cheated out of his quest rewards.

“Release him,” Moira commanded. Now that John could see, he looked over to find her wearing a chain hauberk over her uniform. More shocking was the gold and silver kite shield strapped to her left arm and the frighteningly large warhammer she wielded. She was in a guarded but aggressive stance, ready to leap forward at a moment’s notice.

“No!” cried the other end of the debate. Slender, alarmingly red arms wrapped around John and pulled him back against her. Specifically, into the the prodigious cleavage of the woman who he had until recently assumed was June Summers. “If I do that, you’ll just kill me.”

“You’re not wrong,” Moira nodded. “But it will hurt less if you cooperate.”

“Forgive me if I don’t find your argument very compelling,” the demoness replied flatly.

“Excuse me,” John’s voice was weak, so he raised his hand from his constrained position to draw attention. His head still ached and the rest of his body felt as though he’d spent the last 6 hours swimming, but he could manage at least that much. “Do I get any say in this?”

“Regretfully, no,” Moira responded in a practical tone. “You are currently under the influence of mind altering magics and unable to properly advocate for yourself.”

“Oh.” John paused to blink. “That sucks.”

“That’s not true,” the voice above John’s head snapped back. It seemed to have gained strength since he awoke. “The aura is gone, or can’t you tell?”

“I cannot confidently account for any other lingering effects you may have inflicted upon him.” Moira sneered. “If you intend to gain the slightest chance of survival, you will prove yourself by releasing him.”

“I cannot confidently account for the overzealous fury of a pissed off Warden, so, excuse me while I tell you to shove it,” John’s captor replied, flippant.

“This is going in circles,” John groaned. “Can we just talk about this?”

“There is nothing to talk about,” Moira replied. “This demon seduced you to drain you of your mana. She would have undoubtedly drained you of your very essence had I not interrupted her.”

“First, I am not a demon,” came the defense. “Second, like I’ve been telling you, I was not, I’d already gotten everything I need and he isn’t dead. Third, where are your manners? Don’t you know how rude it is to interrupt a couple mid-coitus?”

While John could notice the fierce blush tinting Moira’s face even from behind the shield, it was his captor’s first claim that stuck in John’s head. The red skin seemed to blatantly contradict her words. John finally gained the wherewithal to crane his neck and use Observe. He was tired of asking nicely.

-
Nazrinn Lovejoy
Level 10 Cambion Temptress
[Better Tits Than You]
RP: +80
-

That was not what he expected. John suddenly felt a lot less comfortable in his warm and inviting prison. He strained to lift himself to a proper sitting position. He had too many questions to ask and his brain was still swimming through choppy seas, but the one question that rose above the others gave him a point to focus on.

“Where is June?” he asked. His tone was grave enough to cut off Moira’s flustered protest.

“She’s safe,” Nazrinn replied.

“Where?” he repeated. John turned around to finally see who he had been unwittingly shielding this whole time. He saw a woman who largely resembled June, if one could overlook the deep red skin and golden irises. This woman’s face and eyes were slightly more angular, but her features were much the same otherwise. She still wore the same disheveled dress June had been in, the same necklace, and her hair in the the same way. The only difference there was that June’s chestnut brown hair was replaced with jet black, save for the occasional stripe of crimson.

Nazrinn hesitated to answer.

“Where is she?” John asked again.

“I can’t tell you that.”

“And why not?” Moira asked, stepping closer.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Nazrinn replied. Her face was hard, but her anger was tinged with apprehension.

“Right again, but I’ve had enough. Newman, move aside,” Moira ordered. John had no reason not to leave Nazrinn to whatever judgement Moira would bring down upon her. He only hoped that she was telling the truth about June.

Nazrinn reached out to take hold of John again, but he resisted. While his dizziness had faded to a minor annoyance, the effort was made awkward as John realized that his pants were still around his ankles. He was able to stumble out of reach regardless, even if only because Nazrinn did not follow. Moira closed the gap while John fumbled to pull his pants back up.

“Wait, you can’t!” Nazrinn cried, shooting up a hand as though it could protect her. The Paladin ignored her. “I haven’t broken the accord! Kill me and you will!”

That gave Moira pause.

“You and everyone else would know if I did,” Nazrinn said, lowering her hand. “I told you already, it was consensual.”

“I agreed to sex,” John cut in, standing. “I don’t remember agreeing to having my mana sucked out.”

“Technically, you did,” Nazrinn said, smirking. She decided to follow John’s example and tugged her dress back into place as she stood. Moira maintained position. “I asked you if you wanted to see what I can do to you, and what I can do is fuck a guy’s mana out.”

“That…” Moira lowered her hammer in disbelief.

“That’s cheating!” John shouted.

“Not cheating, exploiting,” Nazrinn corrected with a raised finger.

“The distinction is negligible!” Moira grit her teeth in frustration.

“Distinct enough to save my hide,” Nazrinn replied. “If you have an issue with the terms of the accord, take it up with the people who penned it. It’s not my fault they left in a loophole.”

“Your intention to deceive and cause harm should still have been applicable,” Moira spat.

“And yet, tragically, it wasn’t.” Nazrinn shrugged. “Now, if there isn’t anything else, I believe this conversation is over.”

John shifted to step forward and stop the imposter June as she moved to leave, but Moira had beaten him to it. She interposed herself, and her hammer, between Nazrinn and the empty doorway.

“I think not,” she said. “I am still well within my rights as Warden of the Order of the Golden Rose to detain you for questioning as a suspect in the disappearance of June Summers. Be warned, resistance will be met with ****, and no amount of loopholes will be able to save you.”

“Yeah, damn straight!” John chimed in, expertly undercutting the severity of Moira’s words. He didn’t care; he was involved in this too and he felt the need to say something. June was, for all he knew, kidnapped. Worse, he’d just lost his virginity to her replacement. If there was anything he could do to help find her, he would do it, no questions asked.

“Hey now,” Nazrinn held up her hands and took a step back. “Let’s not be hasty. I never said I know where she is.”

“Bullshit, you don’t!” John shouted. He was in no mood to play games with whatever information Nazrinn was hiding.

“You have been warned.” Moira took another step closer. “Further lack of compliance shall be seen as implication of guilt.”

“Okay, no. Fuck this,” Nazrinn sneered. She took hold of her necklace and, for an instant, let her disdain yield to dismay. Nevertheless, she yanked down, breaking the chain.

Heatless, blue flames erupted from beneath Nazrinn’s feet as the necklace’s pendant cracked in half. John caught a last glimpse of the Cambion’s pained grimace as the fire consumed her. Moira shouted and crossed the remaining distance in an instant, but even at her speed, the swing of her hammer was only able to catch the last wisps of flame before they faded from existence. Nazrinn was gone; the only things left behind were a broken necklace, the subtle scent of brimstone, and the echo of Moira’s voice.

“Damn it!”

The sentiment was shared between both John and Moira. John punted a stool across the room in frustration, a mild response in comparison to Moira’s. The Warden’s hammer slammed into a nearby table, breaking it into splintered halves with an ear-splitting crack.

“Where did she go? How did she do that?” John demanded.

“To the Abyss,” Moira replied, surprisingly stoic. She pressed her hammer against the face of her shield, and to John’s surprise, it was enveloped in a gentle light as it passed through the surface into nowhere. Moira knelt next to the remains of the necklace and inspected one of its shards. “I’d never expected her to possess a Glyph of Infernal Recall.”

“What the hell is a Glyph of Infernal Recall?” John asked dryly.

“An artefact, rare even among high ranking Demons.” Moira grimaced. “A Glyph of Recall is attuned to its creator’s home plane, Infernal in this case. They can be broken to release the energy within and send its bearer on a one way trip into the Abyss. Wherever she is, she is far out of reach now.”

Moira picked up the ruined fragments of the necklace and pocketed them. While John’s mind still raced with confusion and concern over June, Moira was cloaked in a chilling calm in spite of her earlier anger.

“So what now? What about June?” John asked, more than a little annoyed that Moira’s emotions were so subdued now of all times, while their teacher was in unknown danger.

“The Order investigates, rescues her, and brings judgement upon her captors.” Moira met John’s eyes. “I can assure you, we will succeed.”

“That’s not good enough!” John shouted. His own anger shocked him, it was powerful enough to not only overcome his own hesitation, but the cleft between his and Moira’s power as well. It didn’t give him the time to think rationally about it. “Am I supposed to just be okay with the fact that June has been kidnapped by some demon to who-knows-where, for who-knows-how-long, subject to who-knows-what while your Order or whatever runs around town looking for her?”

It would have been wiser to continue to keep his head down while still so fresh to his new life, but John was too angry for that. He could feel the heat rising in his face, up to his ears, even burning in his eyes. John cared about June, or at least he claimed to, but she had disappeared and been replaced without him having a clue. He was ashamed, he was dismayed, but most of all he was furious. Even if her imposter claimed June was safe, John had no reason to believe her, nor did Moira. She could be in pain this very second, and there was no way he could accept that.

“Unfortunately, yes,” was Moira’s bitter reply.

“Bullshit!” John spat. His voice cracked and he nearly choked on his words, but he didn’t care. What point was there in sheltering his pride now? “How did this even happen in the first place? Isn’t The Order of the Golden Rose supposed to protect people? Didn’t you tell me that? Spoiler Alert: You fucked up! June got replaced and no one even noticed!”

“I AM AWARE OF THAT!” Moira finally snapped. She shouted with the same fury she’d flung at Nazrinn. Her body was just as tense, her fists were clenched, but her posture less antagonistic. She stood with a hard stare that shook John’s bones, quiet but boiling. “You have no idea how many dangers, great and small, the Order tackles every single day. The Abyss hosts hundreds of organizations and thousands of creatures who think less of you than they do of their next meal. This town would have been reduced to rubble countless times had it not been for our intervention. The ground you judge from is held up by those who you would condemn. How dare you? You have no right!”

John stood and faced the Warden, scared but indignant and enraged. What good was this group of would-be saviors if they couldn’t protect even one teacher? He had no intention of continuing to listen to her holier-than-thou speech in the classroom of the very woman she failed.

“However…” the Paladin spoke again, softer. Her eyes fell with her tone, stopping John in his tracks.
“The failure is mine,” she admitted. Her muscles slackened and the tension in the air ebbed with her. Moira took a deep breath. “There are things in place to keep civilians at the school safe, there are things that should not be able to be done, and my eyes have been over-focused on other threats, but the truth does not change no matter how many excuses I make.”

Moira’s face began to harden once more, not with anger- but regret.

“The Order is not perfect, I will be the first to tell you that. We cannot possibly hope to stop every tragedy, prevent every injustice, or defeat every fiend that would threaten this world. Such an endeavor is impossible, but that does not make those failures any less painful.”

Moira locked eyes with John again, as fierce as when she had accosted him earlier.

“This occurred under my watch, and I swear to you I will make things right.”

The words she spoke came out as cold and unyielding steel. John had been ready to write Moira off as one of those self righteous, stick-up-their-ass, Lawful Stupid Paladins, so he was taken aback by this shift in her attitude. He wasn’t entirely sure she didn’t still belong in that category, but he could tell she meant what she said. After all, Moira was not known to make idle claims at school, and it seemed that behavior extended into the Abyss. John couldn’t simply forgive her for failing June, but Moira’s authenticity at least reduced his rage to a simmer.

“I want to help.”

The words came out of John’s mouth without him realizing. It sounded almost like someone else’s voice, someone with confidence and charisma, like his father. John could barely believe it was him, but he didn’t mind. He meant it.

“Out of the question.” Moira shook her head. “You are unschooled, untrained, and untested. Late Bloomers like you are little more than fresh meat in the Abyss. Your involvement would be a **** sentence. I cannot allow that.”

“It’s not like that,” John emphasized. “I need to help.”

“Again, that is simply not an opt-”

“I don’t CARE what you think the options are!” John interrupted. His legs began to shake. He felt adrenaline flooding his system, holding together a chest that felt primed to collapse at any moment.
“June is in danger, and if you want to stop me from doing everything I can to help get her back safe, you’ll need to lock me in your dungeon and hide the key. I’ll never forgive myself if I just stand by and do nothing, and I’ll never forgive you either if you hold me back.”

Moira dropped her commanding attitude and stared at John. It wasn’t the piercing gaze of righteous fire she had earlier, nor was it the chilling glare of determination she wore as she swore her oath. No, she was more relaxed now, looking over her classmate as if she was a cat investigating a foreign object. John suddenly felt his everyday awkwardness start creeping back to the front of his mind.

“You truly care about her, don’t you?” Moira asked.

“I do.” John nodded, trying to stave off his anxiety just a little bit longer. The long pause as invisible gears turned in Moira’s head only made that harder.

“And you would risk **** or worse to save her?” Moira pressed. “You would risk having your skin flayed, drained of everything, tortured until your mind breaks, yet kept alive so long as you can produce essence of use to your jailors? Knowing this, you would stand by your claim?”

John balked. He could feel the blood rushing out of his face and the intense desire to run away. He knew, somewhere, that terrible things might happen to him if he went after June, but having them spelled out clearly before him was another story. He may have dreamed about it a thousand times, but he was no hero, no brave knight in shining armor. How could he face this kind of danger when he couldn’t even stand up to Frank?

“Yes,” he said.

It was in defiance of every fiber of his being, but he said it.

“Then we will find a way for you to assist.” Moira returned John’s nod. “But no combat. Protecting you in the heat of battle will only make the mission harder. It is in both Miss Summers’ and your best interest to retreat at the slightest sign of danger.”

John didn’t know what to say. ‘Thank you’ might have been appropriate, considering that Moira had no reason to give in to his demands, but John didn’t feel like Moira deserved any thanks. Simply saying ‘Good’ sounded like something someone like Vanessa would say, someone who expected to get what they wanted. That put a bad taste in John’s mouth, even if that was how he felt in the moment. Both felt wrong, unbalanced. He sighed.

“Deal,” he said at last. John offered a hand. Moira took it without pause.

“We should be on our way then,” Moira said. She turned on a pivot and headed towards the door. She doffed her armor and shield on the way, inserting the former into the latter much the same as she did her hammer. The shield itself shrunk down to palm size and attached to her uniform. Apparently the shield brooch Moira wore every day was not simply some Brighton Heirloom.

“On our way where? And what about this mess?” John gestured to the upturned stools, mysteriously displaced door, shattered table, and even the puddle left behind by his and Nazrinn’s intercourse. He regretted pointing that last one out.

“What about it? We’re in a Barrier.” Moira only half turned to look back.

“I have no idea what that means,” John said. Moira sighed.

“Just follow me.”