Living the high life

You set out for the short walk to the small village. With your sore bottom the walk feels much longer than it really is. The village you find is so small there isn't even a traditional sign announcing its name to the rare literate traveler. A collection of just three dozen farmhouses, all clustered around a village green. All the excitement centers around the village hall, which probably doubles as the mayor's offices, the winter grain store, the inn, the bar and the general store.

The doors to the hall are wide open and the music is being provided by three brightly clothed men, all traveling bards by the look of them. All very lucky bards too, since there's a lovely village girl sitting next to each of them. In the back there are a few large cider barrels and some kegs of beer. A red-faced and joyous man is busily tapping another barrel as another, younger man rolls away a freshly emptied one.

For a village of - you'd guess - around 200 people this is a massive celebration, on par with any of the major feasts or festivals of the calendar. And where are the chaperons? In such a rural village every girl should be accompanied by some older family member. The countryside is usually much more traditional than the cities, but you see pairs of young men and women skipping as they walk the streets, no relatives in sight.

"Ho!" comes a cry from behind you, quickly followed by a firm slap on the ass. Xall strides past you and give the three of you a deep bow, his head nearly touching the earth. You're furious, but don't know where to start - he left you sore and cum-stuffed by the roadside, he's obviously toyed with this whole village and just now he snuck up and smacked your tender ass like you're some kind of whore.

Time to remind him just who's in charge. You grab his ear in a manner some of the teachers at the abbey used on unruly young students and drag your incubus all the way to the stables behind the hall, despite his protests. There you let go, planning to give him a piece of your mind. Instead you watch as four fornicating couples of various ages extract themselves from the stalls and, giggling, dart away into the night.

Free of your grasp Xall puts his hands on his hips and breathes in loudly, looking very proud of himself. "Finally made it to the party my loves? Wonderful! I can assure you everything here is going just as it should."

"Like hell!"

"Oh, no. Parties in the daemon realm aren't like this at all. Much more whipping, soul ****, domination and all that nonsense. This is a real party." He stops only to take a mug of ale from a young boy who's passing by. "Thanks, lad" he shouts, drinking about half the ale before looking back at you. "Ah, sorry. You can't partake in your condition, but you wouldn't begrudge a parched daemon a drink would you?"

"You left us naked and **** by the side of the road!"

"Eh, under an illusion and a sensing spell. I would have known if anyone stumbled into you. Anyway, that's the past. Look around you, I've been busy doing the goddesses' work!"

You're about to give him what for when Anya grabs your arm and says, "Wait, this ought to be good."

"Sabine," he says, after taking another sip of ale, "I speak the truth. Tell me - what would you want for this village?"

"I wouldn't want them fucking in the streets for a start!"

He sighs. "I mean when the daemons come. As they will, in time."

"I though you could use one of your illusions."

"No, no. I could hide a few buildings, but people have a habit of messing with spells just by walking through them. And I could never make an illusion large enough to hide the village, it's fields and all the forest trails near here. Some daemon would notice. So if the sisters of the burning rose knew a village were soon to be attacked by daemons -and they could not stop it - what would they wish?"

"I suppose we would try to protect them, give them shelter," says Glenda.

"Yes, but there is no shelter to give... so you would protect them as best you can from the depredations of the daemons, yes?"

You have to nod.

"Then I have succeeded as well as anyone could! Simply, I cannot convince them to come with us, we can't stay and defend them, but I have done the next best thing: I have protected this village's future."

"Don't be so damned cryptic - that's the efferateu daemons job, isn't it?" you reply. You're rather proud you manged to remember the ancient name for them - not when you needed the word for a test, of course, but better late than never.

"Mmmm, yes, the fiery fortune tellers. Back in the daemon realm they have trouble asking for someone to pass the salt, let me tell you."

"I thought they were called Afreet?" says Anya.

"That's another name for them. They can be interesting to talk to - one of the very few feminine greater daemons..." He senses you're not in the mood and continues, "Fine then. The village will be safe because the daemon or daemons who come searching for us will find no womb ripe for the taking. Perhaps they will enjoy what they can, regain some strength, but they will soon leave for more... fertile fields."

Glenda puts a hand to her bosom in shock. "That's... that's not protecting..."

"But it is!,"says Xall. "You hold the sword," he says, looking at you almost pleadingly, "this is true. The one prize any daemon let off his leash will look for. Left alone this village would be awash in daemon babies nine months from now. Well, a little more or less than that depending on just what kind of daemon passed through here."

You feel like chucking the holy sword down a well. It is, indeed true - at least as far as Xall believes.

"They will be commanded to follow our trail. They will have to go back to searching for us quickly, but if there were any ripe and ready women here - or even worse, virgins, then they'd make sure to take them. What I've done guarantees that this town will see many new babes in nine months, but they'll all be human. Yes, a lot of elders will be angry - yes, a lot of young couples are going to have a child on the way sooner than expected. A lot of married women will bear another as well. But with so many women full of child how can any of them be punished?"

Your shoulders sag. Damn Xall - you'd have fought his plan to the end. There's no way you'd agree to this, yet you can't come up with anything better. Xall approaches and takes you in his arms. You hug him back, almost mechanically as your mind tries to find some other way, some loophole. You feel your sisters step up behind you. When you're encircled by them you have to fight not to cry at what is becoming of this world and what is becoming of you.

"Take heart," says Xall. "I got us a room and despite spending some mana making some girls fertile a little ahead of schedule and making most everyone less inhibited than usual I've gained far more than I've lost. Now... there's someone I'd like you to meet."

You press your head against his shoulder, remembering what you promised him in those moments of passion. A girl of his choosing.