Flame of the Succubus Read online

  "The sects. I don't know anything about them. Who's who? Can you tell me anything about them?"

  Vessa considered my question for a moment as if coming to a decision. Then, she chuckled. "Sure, why not?"

  She looked around at the sect members. "Most of the ones you see here are from smaller sects."

  I nodded. "Allura had mentioned that." When Vessa looked at me questioningly, I gestured to the darker-haired succubus.

  "Right," Vessa said. "The major sects are the ones doing the heavy recruiting." She pointed at a sect member in half gray and half blue robes. "The Sixth Kingdom. One of the largest sects here. A well-rounded sect, but it's been known to clash with Imperial forces at times." She pointed at another sect member in simple brown robes. "The Hidden Blade. Another large sect. They focus less on martial combat and more on pure Seeker techniques. She pointed at still another sect member in pure black robes. "Heaven's Scourge. Even more militaristic than most sects. They train for the day the Abyss goes to war against the heavenly planes."

  I raised an eyebrow. I wasn't too interested in joining a bunch of religious zealots.

  Vessa continued, pointing to a sect member in bright red and white robes. "Pyrannicals. A strong emphasis on those with elemental Flame affinities."

  "Elemental?" I asked, but Vessa kept going without answering my question.

  "The Forest Throne Sect." She was pointing to a sect member in dark green robes. "They make their home in the Dread Forest." She pointed at a sect member in orange and black robes, like some kind of Halloween costume. "The Risen Ones. Most of them are former Fallen Ones."

  This time I had to stop her. I raised my hand. "I thought Fallen Ones couldn't cultivate or carry their own Flame?"

  Vessa tilted her head. "How long have you been in the Abyss?"

  I was about to answer, but I held my tongue. The Obsidian Emperor was on the lookout for unregistered Outsiders, wasn't he?

  "I've been busy with other things. Training in seclusion. Polishing my Seeker techniques.

  Vessa nodded. Either she bought my excuse, or she wasn't looking to push the issue. "Fallen Ones who dies in the service of a powerful enough master can be reborn as a Seeker."

  "Is that different from the normal cycle? Don't all Fallen Ones move on to other planes?"

  "But not as a Seeker, necessarily. In this case, the new Seeker also retains the memories of his past life. This sidesteps the normal bounds of reincarnation."

  Vessa's head jerked sharply to the side. She looked into the distance, but I couldn't tell what she was looking at. She glanced back at me briefly.

  "See you tomorrow." Vessa disappeared into the crowd.

  I stared at the mass of colored robes. I could make out some of the sects Vessa had mentioned. The red and white of the Pyrannicals was easy to spot. Someone in the black robes of the Heaven's Scourge sect rushed past.

  "What do you think?" I asked the succubi.

  "She likes you," Allura purred.

  "Not about that. The sects."

  "Wouldn't it be best to join the strongest one?" Ember asked.

  "Perhaps." Political or religious stances could be a help or hindrance as well. I wasn't thrilled with the idea of tying myself to a group so readily without understanding them in detail. Maybe all that mattered in the end was that I grew stronger, though.

  ***

  We returned back to our home without any incidents. The next morning, we once again stepped past the iron gates to enter the tournament field.

  Vessa greeted us as we approached the tournament masters.

  "You know who you're fighting?" I asked.

  "Yup," Vessa said with a grin.

  "Not me, I hope."

  She smiled at me. I must have looked concerned, because she burst out laughing. "No, not you. Not today."

  As I moved towards the tournament masters, it became clear that Vessa wanted to find out my schedule. I supposed that wasn't an issue.

  Today a different set of bald men in white manned the table. I handed my obsidian tab to the first one.

  The tournament master took my tab and passed his hand over it. Instead of consulting the scrolls laying in front of him, he looked up at me and frowned.

  "You are Aidan Ward?" he asked.

  "That's what the tab says, right?" I replied.

  "I'm afraid I can't find your name on the tournament schedule. There seems to have been a mistake."

  "What? So who do I see to fix this?"

  The tournament master's brows furrowed. He shook his head. "This cannot be fixed. Your position in the tournament, if any, is forfeit."

  He dismissed me with a flick of hand.

  The fuck? I stood still, glaring at the tournament master, who refused to make eye contact.

  Vessa spoke softly from behind me. "They wear white to signal their neutrality, but don't let that fool you. The sects are already vying for an advantage."

  I turned to glance at her. Her sudden interest in me this morning didn't seem like a coincidence.

  "You knew this would happen, didn't you?"

  Vessa shrugged. "I overheard someone mention your name to the tournament masters."

  I turned back to the tournament master and slammed my hand down hard on the table. "Fuck you and your bullshit. Get me a someone else."

  The tournament master finally acknowledged me with flick of his eyes. His hand moved in a blur, too quick for my eyes to follow. Someone shouted behind me.

  His arm was raised to deliver a blow to me, but another tournament master in white robes had appeared at our table, blocking his strike.

  I caught a glimpse of dark green fabric inside the white sleeve of the first tournament master and a hint of black fabric peeking out from the white neckline of the second one who defended me.

  "Who bribed the Forest Throne?" the second one asked.

  "Stay out of this," the first one growled. "We have no feud with Heaven's Scourge."

  Vessa murmured to herself from behind me.

  The two tournament masters stared at each other, their arms interlocked.

  "What's going on?" Another tournament master approached from an adjacent table. A number of onlookers had begun drifting over to watch the scene.

  "Nothing," the Forest Throne master said after a moment.

  He disengaged from the Heaven's Scourge master and handed me back my tab.

  "Arena five. Your opponent is Dyar Arica."

  His eyes brimmed with fury. I snatched the obsidian tab out of his hand and ignored him. Instead, I gave a short nod to the master from Heaven's Scourge.

  "My thanks to your sect."

  The Heaven's Scourge member smiled and stepped away.

  I quickly left the area as I didn't want to attract any more attention than necessary.

  I was going to speak to my succubi, but Vessa bounded up to me.

  "Someone was trying to kick you out of the tournament. Why's that?" she asked.

  I stopped walking and faced her, crossing my arms. "You sure you don't have anything to do with it?"

  "Me? Of course not." Vessa stuck her nose slightly in the air, daring me to challenge her.

  I glanced at Allura and Ember. Both were alert, scanning the area for any sign of trouble. Someone was trying to mess with me. I couldn't think of anyone besides Ryder.

  Or the boviaries. Or maybe Festus. What about the Fallen Ones in the Gravelands? Did Mammon have a brother?

  Shit. I was racking up a pile of possible enemies. But it was kind of unavoidable, given my situation and the way things worked in the Abyss.

  The only way to counter that would be allies and alliances. It was my reason for looking to join a sect in the first place.

  I looked back at Vessa. "Sorry. It's just hard to trust anyone here."

  Vessa smiled. "That's smart. Trust is earned, not given in the Abyss." She leaned closer. "I spotted an Imperial agent talking with that tournament master."

  I froze. Ryder. Was he interfering with the tournament? />
  Vessa watched my reaction closely. "The Obsidian Emperor wouldn't dare to interfere with sect business, ordinarily. Either an ambitious Imperial agent is taking matters into his own hands, or this isn't ordinary business. You never answered. What makes you so special?"

  I hesitated. This was crazy, but nothing ventured, nothing earned. And she had already given me a nugget of information.

  "I arrived here recently," I said.

  "In Duskfall?"

  "No, the Abyss. The recent increase in patrols for new Outsiders. The Blood Army and Imperial agents searching for…someone. I think I'm the one they want." I stopped short of declaring myself human, though.

  Vessa eyes widened. "I had some guesses, but that's unexpected. What do you have to do with the Obsidian Emperor?"

  I shook my head. "I don't know exactly, either, but a few Seekers who have been helping me think I can…"

  Can what? Overthrow him? Change things? I chose my next words carefully.

  "End the disrupted cycle. Restore the Path of the Flame."

  Vessa's mouth opened and closed. I had just said something crazy, hadn't I? Ever since I had been dropped into the Abyss, I had run into one crazy situation after another. Changing the universe's cycle was so far beyond my perception of crazy that I didn't even know how to begin thinking about it.

  "Okay," Vessa said finally.

  "Okay?"

  "Everyone has his own Path. Yours is…"

  "Special," I said with a grin.

  Vessa laughed. "Yes, it is."

  I couldn't tell if she believed me or not. But I wasn't sure if I believed it myself, either.

  A gong sounded. The morning matches would start in five minutes.

  "I need to head to arena one," Vessa said. "I'll see you afterwards."

  After she left, I turned to my succubi. "What does she want, exactly?"

  "Isn't that obvious?" Allura asked with a sly smile.

  "No, come on. There has to be something more. She's a goddamn Seeker. A famous one, too, supposedly."

  "I wonder what techniques she uses," Ember said.

  "Me too." I thought back to Vessa's twitching fingers. "Me too."

  ***

  The man with trim brown hair opposite me didn't wield any weapons, but as soon as the tournament master gave the signal to begin, he hurled a bolt of Flame at me. That burned.

  I dodged as a searing wave of heat rushed past me, leaving my left arm's exposed skin raw with pain.

  "Shit!" I yelled. I didn't bother to hide my techniques.

  I slashed my sword three times, sending three arcs of Flame at my opponent, a Seeker dressed in a simple gray robe like me. Allura sent her own storm of needles.

  I had named my weaker copy of Ryder's technique the Flamestrike, but my attacks carried no heat. They were based on the essence of life—that Flame, not some actual burning substance.

  Dyar's attacks were definitely fire-based. He raised a wall of burning Flame that absorbed both my Flamestrikes and Allura's needles.

  I sent another two Flamestrikes to keep the pressure on Dyar while Allura sent a newly formed Swarm of needles.

  A column of fire shot out of Dyar's right hand, incinerating Allura's Swarm. A smaller wall of Flame appeared in front of his left hand, blocking my Flamestrikes.

  He opened his mouth and a wave of Flame surged out of his mouth like he was some kind of fire-breathing dragon.

  The hell? Was Dyar an elementalist? The Pyrannicals would be drooling to recruit him, I imagined.

  I didn't know how my Whirlwind would interact with the incoming torrent of burning Flame, so I was reluctant to use it to block the attack. I sent a single Flamestrike forward to see what would happen. If he could block my Flamestrikes with his Flame, I figured I should be able to do the same in reverse.

  My Flamestrike split Dyar's attack in half, sending a burning wave of heat to either side of me. I rolled forward to close the distance between me and Dyar. If he was more comfortable at range, I would need to fight him up close with my blade.

  Allura hovered behind me and to the side, sending needles to harass Dyar while I attacked with a basic jab to probe his response.

  A wall of burning Flame rose to block my attack, but my blade slipped right past it. I couldn't lunge all the way through the firewall without hurting myself, but the tip of my sword met resistance.

  Dyar made a noise and flew backwards, twin jets of Flame bursting from each hand to propel him.

  Fuck that. So much for letting Allura do the fighting. I used a split second of Whirlwind to destroy the Flame wall in front of me as I charged through. I shifted my sword up high to my side, still holding it two hands. The Third Stance.

  I intended to crush Dyar before he could run away, but a stream of Flame whipped out at me. I dodged under it, but instead of flying past me, Dyar pulled back his hand, and the thin line of Flame recoiled. It was a whip of fire. A second stream of Flame shot out at me from his other hand. I sidestepped it but heard a cry of pain behind me and a thump on the ground.

  He got my wing. I can't fly.

  I didn't dare turn to check on Allura.

  Dyar lashed out with one fire whip while sending the other spinning in coils.

  This time, I caught the first whip with my blade and cut a quick, tight pattern to slice it. Dyar recovered his other hand while a new fire whip grew in his first hand.

  The whip lashes were unpredictable and sinuous, not like the rigid strikes of a stiff metal blade.

  I switched to the Second Stance, fencing against the fire whips, snipping them as fast as Dyar was regrowing them. My blade twisted as I let the Living Lines overtake me, the chaos of my twisting blade strikes matching the twin serpentine fire whips Dyar wielded.

  Dyar's face tightened in concentration as he reformed fire whip after fire whip, his only defense against my Flame-cutting blade to maintain a continuous offense, forcing me to block his attack instead of pressing my own.

  As our dance continued, his forehead shone with a layer of sweat.

  Meanwhile, I focused on letting my inner Flame drive my limbs, half-closing my eyes. I wasn't sure if Dyar had access to the same technique, but Living Lines wasn't a technique that relied on precise control and timing. It was about giving yourself in to the Flame, letting the Flame take over your body and guide your strikes.

  As I gave myself to my Flame, the infernal aspect within me tried to sneak out, but I clamped down on it. For me, it was a battle of purifying my Flame and keeping the infernal aspect from running rampant even as I gave myself completely to my Flame.

  Allura was trying to flank Dyar on foot, but the cunning Seeker rolled and repositioned himself to put me partially between Allura and him. When she summoned a Swarm, Dyar promptly incinerated it with a burst of Flame before returning his attention to me.

  Stay behind, I ordered.

  I had caught a glimpse of her, and she was limping. Allura's limited mobility was the real reason she hadn't flanked Dyar. It wasn't just her wing; her entire left side was burned and covered with a mix of red open sores and black burnt skin.

  Sacrificing your pet to gain a tactical advantage might have made more sense, but it wasn't something I was willing to do yet. Allura wasn't exactly a pet, in any case. She was a partner, even if I was her supposed master.

  A sense of strain and fatigue emanated from Allura. Her injury and constant loss of needles to Dyar's defenses was taking its toll. I had to end this quickly if I wanted her help.

  Allura shot needles in the opening I occasionally created for her with my sword, but her response was too slow. Dyar simply blocked the occasional needle with another flick of his fire whips. My infernal Flame pushed, trying to rush forth, tempting, urging, pleading. It throbbed inside me, stronger than I had ever experienced.

  Release me. Let me devour him.

  The intrusion of the angry voice surprised me. I hadn't been hearing it as much lately, not since I had opened Allura's second Node and bonded with her menta
lly. I had also made a conscious effort to limit the use of my darker Flame.

  After all, I remembered Yaeger's warnings. The Shadowform.

  My infernal Flame was like a second enemy I had to battle inside me. If I obliged my infernal Flame, even a little bit, I was worried that I would lose control completely.

  Still, I needed to do something quickly. Dyar and I were nearly evenly matched, my Living Lines unable to penetrate his swarm of fire whips. I could see the openings, but I only had one blade. I needed another way to send an attack…

  Allura. Attack me with your needles. Or rather, my blade. A slow but steady stream.

  I shifted slightly to the side, not enough to warn Dyar of the incoming attack, but enough to give Allura a little more room to shoot around me.

  Allura released a thin line of needles. The first one hit the edge of my blade, shattering. The second bounced off the flat of my blade, striking the arena ground at a steep angle.

  Better.

  I adjusted my Living Lines technique, taking into account not just Dyar's whips but also Allura's needles. A slight rotation of my blade here. An adjustment of the angle there.

  While the winding twists of my blade had evenly matched the frenetic lashes and coils of Dyar's whips, I had poured on another layer of chaos.

  Needles clattered off my blade at oblique angles, peppering the area around with the ricochets. I missed the angle with one twist of my blade and a needle almost caught me in the face.

  I ducked and continued the onslaught.

  A needle slipped past Dyar's defense, nicking him in the shoulder. It was a shallow wound, but I could have ended the fight right there if I had wanted to reveal my Shattershard. But I knew that my boosted Living Lines was working, so I pressed forward, sending more needles careening into Dyar as my blade wove circles around his whips.

  Dyar's whips disappeared abruptly and a huge wall of Flame appeared between us. He was trying to buy some space and time, so I pushed forward again with another split second of a Whirlwind as I stepped into the firewall. Fuck it. I would end this now. When my body was half hidden by the firewall, I launched a Single Point Strike.