Faust, little Fel Mouse
Tucked into the hollow of a set of bounders and briar bushes, stone walls shaded by large thorn covered branches arching overhead made a comforting space that even adults could comfortably move about in. Within this hollow, sitting cross legged as evening light filtered faintly into the space sat one Falin Goethe.
Hair a tousled brown, with eyes a vivid green, and a puzzled frown tugging at his lips the young boy pondered what lay on the page before him. A thick tome, nearly as big as his chest, sat open before him. Its pages lit by two nearly melted candles as he leaned over the runes and sigils that covered the pages.
“Emi, what’s this one for?” The question was asked as his head raised, the hood of his cloak falling back. The question was offered to the other figure within the confines of the hideaway.
Sharing the space was a tall rather voluptuous woman, skin a flushed pink. Dressed in almost nothing but what would tease the senses of anyone but the child before her she truly was a sight to behold. So long as you didn’t gaze too high or too low, horns and hooves were less pleasant to look at than sinful curves of the flesh. Fel green hues watched the boy with lazy, but watchful curiosity.
“That is not for you yet little mouse. One day perhaps you’ll get to use that particular little spell and rain down living fire and brimstone upon the world.” Her voice was a smoke filled purr as if she was already imagining the delightful destruction such a thing would offer.
“Aw…so much of this is off limits! Can I do any of it?”
The woman mused then crooked a finger at the book. “Turn a few pages back mouse, a little more, ah that one. That could be within your level. It will require some sacrifice on your part if you feel ready for such things. You have that little dagger you snuck out of the kitchen-”
“N-no I didn’t! I….well I-”
“Hush Faust, I’m sure your mother won’t mind so long as you make sure to put it back. Now do you remember what I taught you? Focus, recite the incantations, and feel the power within your very soul. One day you won't even need an incantation.”
The Sayaad sat up as the boy began to murmur under his breath. From here she could see how his little brow furrowed in concentration even as he pulled sleeves that were much too long for his arms up to free his hands. There was a shift in the air, like all the wind was being sucked out of the space to encircle the boy.
Faust was her fourth master and while each had been more different than the last there was something so…enthralling…about this one. The first had been an old fuddy-duddy, quick to lash out in anger and prone to smacking her around. The second had become an amusing toy for a time, he’d believed he was in charge even while she had begun to slip a collar around his throat and slowly tightened it across days and months until she’d whispered in his ear to give her his heart and he tore it out for her still beating in her grasp as the light faded from his eyes.
The third was this boy's father. So very careful, he had access to such magic and secrets and did little more than bind herself and a few others under his thumb. She’d never heard of such a clever binding until she’d found herself under its control. But the man had a weakness of his own. A wife and son he’d do anything for. And for a man who didn’t so much as cast a single corrupting spark of Fel Fire, he had reached too deep and tried to bind too tight a thing that should not have been bound. She could still hear the way the pit fiend had laughed as both the debt collectors, their bruisers, and the man himself were dragged away to whatever dark pit the creature had been called from.
But then there was Faust. So much like his father, and so much more as well. Arranged into the tome the boy read from was every trick and chain his father once used. But there was such a thing as too careful, too untrusting. The boy had no fear, no distrust, and nothing more than simple desire in his calls.
More than that as fel runes began to glow, as Emiria basked in the purity of Faust’s magic, she couldn’t help but marvel at her little master. He gave himself completely to the magic, his entire soul laid bare into the magic. Fel take her, she wanted to push him further, to goad him into higher heights. She would shape him, guide him, train him to the pinnacle of the craft. And he would be all the tastier for it when finally she claimed his soul for her own. Nothing could stop the hunger from her gaze or the cruel twist of her lips as the spell neared its peak and the boy lifted his pilfered blade to the palm of hand.
“My little Mouse! Where are you?” The woman’s voice called, “It’s dinner time! Bring your friend Emi too!”
And then the spell was broken, the magic released to fade into the ethos. The succubus settled back as emerald hues opened, faintly lit from within by fel magics for the briefest of moments. A childish grin came over that thin face as the boy scrambled to his feet. Blowing out candles and grabbing up the tome Faust was up and trying to pull her up as well.
Once both were up the boy took off running, “Coming Mama!” So quick his steps moved that he stumbled over his own pace and fell, spilling book and other odds and ends from the confines of his robe.
Amused, his companion approached, bending down to assist the fallen boy. How claw like fingers itched to take up the tome that lay spilled before her but instead the boy was helped up with a gentle touch, hood pulled snuggly over his tousled hair and the worst of the dust brushed from his robes. “Come on, what kind of powerful man sheds tears for a little fall, hm?” The Sayaad’s amused chuckle came with a pinch to the boy's cheek as a quivering lip turned into a determined frown upon his face.
The boy picked up his tome, roughly scrubbed his face with his arm and took off again down the path to the small house sitting tucked up against the crags and cliffs. “Mama! You shoulda seens it! I was gonna make a health stone!”
The Sayaad was slower to follow, amusement still covering her gaze as she snapped her fingers fel magics shimmering around her as a simple linen dress covered her form and horns and hooves faded from view and blood flushed skin took on a paler hue. She came along after the boy, smiling at her third master’s wife, and fourth master’s mother as the pair were ushered inside.
Yes, she’d make sure Faust became a powerful man. It would make claiming his soul all the sweeter in time. A steady hand and the patience of eons made for the finest of wine after all. And what a fine vintage he was already becoming…
