Another demonstration of Pursha's capabilities

For the rest of the morning, Aaralon was spared from another pain attack. However, his classes seemed to pass agonizingly slowly: He couldn't wait to start his work on the recipe Pursha had given him. The young mage-in-waiting was determined to satisfy the succubus' demands to the best of his knowledge. Betrayal was out of question: He feared the consequences for him and Winna as much as he considered an alliance with the succubus profitable for him. He reached into the pocket of his pants and closed his fingers on Pursha's paper note. Chances were good that he could find an empty alchemy lab during lunch break. If he picked the right lab, he would be able to mix the potion without disturbances.

Using a hidden dimension door, a complicated, ever moving structure of interchangeable archways, and a secret staircase, guarded by a silly gremlin who granted passage for a whistled tune, Aaralon made his way for rainbow tower. The slender tower of elven architecture and design lodged four experimental stations. Three of the labs were in regular use by senior grade students working on innovative wizardry. The fourth lab was smaller and its stores not optimally loaded, but Aaralon had already organised the ingredients listed in the note. He didn't envision any problems with his choice of location.

As expected the small lab was unoccupied. Quickly he prepared the experiment and started to mix the potion. Its chemistry was weird, as were some of the organic ingredients, and the recipe was more than just unconventional. But Aaralon had long adopted the three golden rules of alchemy and never failed: Concentration, precision and plenty of patience. As long as he did exactly as described the potion would work as intended.

To his very relief, the time for reaction was relatively short. The final chemical reaction turned out a little bit of a suprise: With a loud 'WOUSH!', followed by massive bubble formation in the tumbler, the potion announced its completion. Suspiciously eying his creation, Aaralon took an opaque vial and poured the slightly sparkling liquid into it. Content his work was done, he sealed the flacon and hid it in his pockets. Already a tad late, he skeltered back to the classroom sector.

Having just wormed his way back through the maze of archways, he turned a corner and stumbled into the portly form of Master Readner, the college's Master of the Keys.

"Sorry, Master Readner, I didn't hear you coming round the corner," he mumbled excusingly and hurried past. Aaralon detested the rosy cheeked dunderhead. It was absolutely incomprehensible for him, how one as incompetent as that excuse of a wizard had been picked to fill out a position of responsibility. Even if the job practically didn't mean much more than a chief caretaker's duties.

"Aaralon, halt!"

For a brief instant Aaralon considered to simply ignore the dope. Alas, he couldn't afford to raise unwanted questions. Master Readner had an annoying habit of becoming a pest if somebody challenged his authority. He choked down an angry curse and looked questioning at the senior mage. "Yes, Master Readner?"

"Where do you think you are going?"

Aaralon raised an eyebrow. "Back to classes, Master Readner?"

"Back to classes? Hmm, aren't you a bit late?"

"Yes, I know. That's why I am in such a hurry."

"Hmm." Master Readner came a step closer. With squinty eyes he examined the apprentice mage. "If you know you are late, then why do you hang around here? This ain't a section where students should linger at this time of day."

Aaralon started to become a little bit nervous. This wasn't going well. "I was on an errand."

"An errand?" Master Readner asked mockingly. "For whom?"

"Lady Krizzsha." He lied without a flinch.

"Ah, Lady Krizzsha. I see. What kind of errand would the old gnome ask from a student?"

"Ask her," Aaralon replied blandly. He hated to take chances with the ancient, gnomish mage, but she had a crush on him since he had started to learn Gnomish. She was muddle-headed enough to believe she had really sent him on errand even if she had not.

"Oh, I will. Be sure about that, I will. Why don't we go asking her?" Master Readner made an attempt to reach for his arm.

Aaralon sidestepped him. "I don't think this is a good idea," he answered cold-bloodedly. "My next classes are with Master Derelon - and you know how he hates when other scholars keep his students away from his lessons."

Master Readner stopped in his track and gawked at the recalcitrant student. Aaralon decided to push his luck and leave the seemingly undetermined keymaster behind. 'What a looser' he thought as he turned and sallied forth. The next command he heard stopped him dead in his track.

"But Aaralon, do you really believe I care about Master Derelon?"

The voice he heard was velvetty and thick with power.

Aaralon whirled around. In front of him stood Pursha, black-haired and mystifying, clad in the modified paysan's clothes he had delivered her this morning.

"You?" he stammered.

"Who else?"

"B-but... how... M-Master Readner..."

"Yeah, that was me," she replied in a voice parents tend to use for slow-witted children.

Aaralon nervously looked around. "You shouldn't be here. Not in this appearance."

"How so?"

Aaralon stepped closer. His anxiety of exposure surpassed his fear of succubus. Reflexively he grabbed her arm and dragged her into the shadow of a towering rock statue of a heavily armored knight. "Look, employees without talent are not allowed to venture in this part of the college" he hissed. All of sudden he realised what he had done. Appalled he withdraw his fingers from her arm.

Pursha adjusted her sleeve and smiled airily at him. "Oh. Then you feel more relaxed when I take this guise?" Faster than Aaralon could blink she changed back to the form of the Master of the Keys. Aaralon just stood there gaping, unable to hide his immense perplexity. He was certain it wasn't just a phantasm: Illusions didn't work this close to the magic archways. He had never seen somebody magically change form at such a speed. "Oh, c'mon, sweetheart. Shut your trap lest you swallow a fly. Pursha's voice had changed from amusement to seduction, but had remained hers - at least the one he knew as hers. The young mage blinked.

"I've never seen such a fast transformation. And so flawless. How do you do that?"

"Maybe I'll teach you some day."

"I'd appreciate that."

"Then make sure you don't disappoint me." Pursha/Master Readner pursed her/his lips and smiled.

"I'm working on it," he repled flatly.

"Good." Pursha/Master Readner's stance changed from quizzical to mercantile. "So, how are things going?"

"Just fine." Beginning to relax again, Aaralon meaningfully looked around. "I've just finished the potion. But shouldn't we seek out a less public place?"

Pursha/Master Readner nodded. "Maybe we should." She/he pointed to a proximate door. "We should be save there."

Aaralon gave her/him a queer look. He didn't know what hid behind that door. How could she possibly know they were save there? He started to voice an objection, but when he noticed her/his expectant gaze, he swallowed his reply. "Okay."

"Fine," she said drily. Her eyes, however sparked with amusement. "Let's go."