A Hot Meal

The sun was setting, casting long shadows through the trees as we gathered around the fire. Dinner had just begun, the smell of warm stew wafting through the air as bowls were passed around, laughter soft and steady.

Wyll ladled another portion into my bowl with a grin. “You know, Tav, after everything today? I much prefer your rituals to Volos ice-pick lobotomy.”

Shadowheart immediately raised her bowl. “Agreed. Much gentler hands—even the pain is worth it.”

Karlach chuckled, looking at me apologeticaly. “Heh, yeah. Can’t lie, I kinda love it.”

Lae’zel tilted her head in agreement. “The shocks… unnerving, yet acceptable.”

Wyll blinked. “I can only agree, I admit I also get a shock each time. I wasn't sold in the beginning, but I can't argue with the results”

The girls nodded as if this made perfect sense.

I bit the inside of my cheek and nodded solemnly, doing everything in my power not to burst out laughing.

We were interrupted by a sudden roar of heat and light as a circle of flame erupted on the ground near the fire, licking upward in a burst that scorched the earth.

Wyll stood immediately. “Gods damn. She’s coming.”

The flame pulsed outward, then formed a clean ring. Within it, a winged figure rose with a curling tail and a wicked smirk. Beautiful red hair shimmering like embers, adorned by a golden crown gave her aregal look, and from her head rose four obsidian horns framing her face with devilish elegance. Her skin gleamed a light blue, radiant and flawless. Her breasts were soft yet full, proudly framed by the deep plunge of her sapphire dress that clung to every curve like desire itself. A narrow, athletic waist and hips curved like a scimitar’s blade gave her a dangerously feminine silhouette. Molten-red eyes—sultry and burning—were outlined in sharp lashes and smoky kohl. Her thighs flexed with every step, long bare legs that accentuated the commanding sway of her gait. Her tail lashed once, a tease of threat and pleasure combined.

Mizora

“Wyll, you've been naughty,” she purred, eyes glinting. “And you know what happens when you're naughty.”

Karlach stood, fists clenched. “Gods damn it. Everyone but her.”

“Well, well,” I murmured, rising. “Aren’t you a luscious thing.”

[Karlach: Approval -2]

Mizora turned her attention to me, the smirk sharpening. “You flatterer. Why, if I had a warm heart I’m sure it would be skipping. Call me Mizora.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “You must be the reason the girls are in such a good mood... if you're anything like your patron, they're in excellent company.”

Shadowheart and Lae’zel shot me a suspicious glance

Karlach growled. “You’ll say anything to rile us up, you lying piece of shit.”

Mizora's voice turned sweet and cutting. “Wyll and I had a deal. But Karlach is still breathing.”

Wyll stepped forward. “You said devils only. She's a tiefling, not a devil.”

“How precious,” Mizora said mockingly. “The little puppy has found his bark. —Clause G, Section 9: Target shall be limited to the infernal, the demonic, the heartless, and the soulless—She qualifies by virtue of having no heart."

Wyll clenched his fists. “I won’t do it. I won’t kill her.”

The smile vanished. Her eyes darkened.

“Then you’ll bear the mark of defiance.”

With a flick of her hand, a red glow wrapped around Wyll. He screamed, collapsing to his knees as horns erupted from his skull, curling wickedly back. His ears lengthened, tapering into infernal points.

The glow faded. Mizora gave a small, satisfied exhale. “Much better. If you won't act the devil, you can at least look the part.”

She turned on her heel and stepped back into the flame. Just before vanishing, her molten-red gaze flicked back to me. "I’ll be keeping an eye on you, darling. Until next time." Then she glanced sideways toward Karlach with a smirk. "Oh, and Karlach—Zariel sends her regards." Karlach snarled, her voice cracking with fury. “You fucking bitch!” she screamed after her, fists trembling at her sides.

And then, she was gone.

Wyll rose slowly, rubbing his forehead. "Gods damn her straight back to the Hells... Just look at me. I did what was right, and she made me pay for it. I was meant to hunt devils, demons, heartless evils. Not innocents."

Wyll sulked off toward his tent. "I'll be ready for my ritual... whenever."

I watched him go, not saying anymore. The circle of scorched grass still glowed faintly where Mizora had stood.