Satyr Play

When she'd awoken this morning, her mother had been sleeping in the chair beside her bed. Unlike the glimpses she'd had before, now the aura around her mother was brilliant and chaotic. She watched the woman sleep for at least ten minutes as she tried to filter through the confusing overlapping images in the aura, but her mind couldn't identify what she was seeing or decipher its meaning. She just didn't have the training for it.

That's when she'd noticed the changes in her skin. Her lovely black and deep blue coloration had become a pearly silver white. She extended the claws on her fingers, and they were also white! She let them retract and thought about getting up to look in the mirror.

"You're awake. Good!"

Paloma looked at her mother; her aura was just as chaotic as before. She instinctively pushed back on her abilities, and they... muted. She sighed in relief and looked away, glancing at the alarm clock. It was still early, but... what day was it? She suddenly had the sensation of time dilation.

"What day is it?" she asked.

"You've only slept overnight," Camila assured her.

Paloma nodded, getting her bearings. She looked up suddenly. "Stanley!"

"—is fine. We took him home last night and met his Baba." Camila frowned as that encounter still haunted her.

"Baba? Is that a term for Grandmother?" Paloma asked, missing her mother's expression.

"Yes, she was... his grandmother. She was also Baba Yaga," Camila fixed her eyes on her daughter and saw the shock and fear there. Good. She was pleased Paloma recognized the danger.

"Stanley is related to Baba Yaga?" Paloma squeaked.

"I believe she... adopted him. For what purpose, I don't know. She mentioned he was somehow involved in a long-term plan that we disturbed." Paloma gasped in fear, but Camila raised her hand to calm her daughter. "Stanley convinced her not to hurt us."

Camila watched her daughter's eyes, pale blue since her transformation, begin to glow at the mention of Stanley's rescue. "Don't!" she barked.

Paloma blinked back at her in confusion.

"He's part of something Baba Yaga is cooking up! I don't want you getting involved with him! It's too dangerous!"

"I'm his executive assistant. I work for him." She recalled something important. "He'll need the notes we made yesterday!" Paloma insisted, trying to bypass her mother's intervention without directly confronting her, something she couldn't do.

"No, you work for me. I'm the CEO, remember?" Camila insisted.

"But... I like working with Stanley, and we are a great team. He needs me to meet the deadline you set for him. You know how effective I am," Paloma said quickly before her mother's mind was set.

Camila closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. She did know how good her daughter's work was. It had made her indispensable to their previous CIO. Even if the bastard had been embezzling from the company with that snake Pfister, something Paloma had suspicions of and brought to her attention.

"Fine. You work with him. That's all! I think it's abundantly clear that you can no longer feed from him. His energy is far too... potent." Camila looked away from her.

Paloma's eyes went wide. "You fed from him too!"

Camila looked sharply back at her daughter, but she could not deny the truth. "You were overdosing! I had to confirm if his energy was toxic!"

"And after the first small amount to confirm this, you stopped?" Paloma pushed.

Camila's eyes narrowed as she realized her daughter was becoming testy. "Paloma!"

The girl dropped her eyes. "Sorry, mother."

They each took a few deep breaths to calm down.

"Truthfully... it was fortunate Stanley was almost finished when he was pulled away from you. If I'd fed any more, I might have passed out as well," Camila said to ease the tension. Paloma smiled as they shared the memory.

"My next concern is the effect it had on you. Your pigmentation has altered dramatically! Your glamor may not be able to cope with this sudden change. How do you feel?"

Paloma closed her eyes with a wide smile and stretched in satisfaction like a cat sleeping in the sun. "Sooooo good!"

"But what about your glamor?" her mother insisted, though she struggled to keep the smile from her lips.

Paloma opened her eyes and pouted. "Fine." Concentrating, she felt for the glamor spell bound to her... and discovered it was gone. Actually, a few wisps remained, but as she watched, the edges slowly faded away. She looked at her mother. "It's gone."

"Gone?" Camila exclaimed.

"Yes, it's... it's dissolving," Paloma said faintly.

Camila frowned. That wasn't supposed to be possible. She'd have to contact the Fae who bonded the spell to Paloma when she was only a baby. These spells grew and evolved with their owners and never, ever failed. A trustworthy glamor was their best and only defense. "I'll arrange to get a new glamor for you. Until then, you'll just have to stay inside your home."

Paloma nodded distractedly, then yawned widely. Her eyes suddenly felt heavy. "I'm so sleepy."

"It's okay. Rest. Stay inside. Don't answer the door. I will return at lunch," Camila said as she pulled the covers up to her daughter's chin.

Paloma smiled as she felt the familiar gestures from her mother, and soon she was asleep.

Camila did return at lunch, and Paloma watched her speak to one Fae official after another, trying to reach one that would take her seriously. A glamor spell fail? Impossible! Finally, she contacted someone senior in the organization who seemed more shocked than dismissive. She arranged to visit that night. She asked that the subject meditate to clear her mind of all concerns, as to apply a new spell at this stage of one's life required a good amount of mental assistance from the subject. Infants were easily bonded to their glamor spells as their minds were far more malleable.

So here Paloma sat in the dark, focusing on the candle, working on disciplining her mind, preparing for her new glamor spell.

"Child..."

Paloma blinked and looked closer at the flame. There was nothing special to see there.

"Child..."

She looked to the darkness beyond as the voice seemed to come from the darkest shadows. A chill ran down her spine.

"Yes?"

"Good child. You like my boy?"

Paloma froze. It was her.

"Yes," she squeaked, afraid to speak anything but the truth.

"What do you see when you see him?" the voice asked.

Paloma heard the emphasis on the repeated word and knew Baba Yaga was aware of her ability. Her mouth went dry, but she had to answer. "I see—I saw something special..."

"But you don't know what it is?"

"No. I never do. I just see the potential."

"Good... That's good, child."

Paloma found herself holding her breath. She took a gulp of air.

"Be kind to my boy... Life won't be."

The candle went out, and Paloma might have screamed. Just a little. When she found the courage to move, she reached out in the darkness to touch the lamp next to the couch, and its soft light filled the area around her. The candle's wick had simply drowned.

She rose from the couch and checked the rune by the front door. It wasn't active. She set it and wondered if her mother had forgotten to reset it when she left. Perhaps Baba Yaga turned it off herself. Someone as powerful as her would not be stopped by this simple rune.

Paloma took another candle from the drawer and went back to her meditation. Now more than ever, she needed to settle her mind... and nerves.

Two hours later, she was finally returning to a calm and floating state when she felt the gentle ping of the door rune being deactivated by her mother. She could feel Camila's presence through the rune's magic, which gave her some additional peace of mind. She wanted to tell her mother about her afternoon visitor, but something warned her to keep silent. A compulsion! Sneaky witch!

She sighed and turned on the light as her mother entered the apartment.

Walking to the windows, Camila opened the blinds. "How are you feeling?"

"Better. Calm."

"Perfect. The specialist should be here shortly." The doorbell rang, and Camila raised an eyebrow as she smiled. "I'm pretty good!"

Paloma smiled at her mother as she rolled her eyes.

Camila went to the door and returned with a slight, grey-haired woman, maybe four-foot-ten, dressed elegantly in a tan raincoat over black slacks and shiny leather shoes. She was leaning slightly on an ebony walking stick. With the merest flick of her fingers, the raincoat she appeared to be wearing vanished and was replaced with a black business jacket over a gray silk shirt. Everything about this Fae was hidden behind a glamor. This wasn't too surprising considering her occupation.

"Hello, I'm Investigator Heriahn. I understand there is a claim of a failed glamor." Her voice was light but crisp.

Looking at the wispy aura around the woman, Paloma was struck by the feeling of despair. The potential in the woman seemed to be almost gone. She'd never been able to see the auras of the Fae before. Now, she wished for that to be the case again. She held her tongue as keeping her secret was far more important. "Yes, my glamor has dissolved," she said. She and her mother had decided Stanley's name and nature would be kept secret, if possible.

"Dissolved?" the investigator said with a disbelieving tone.

Paloma shrugged. "Please see for yourself."

The Fae nodded, speaking words softly to itself, and looked closer. Her eyes began to gleam oddly. Then they flew wide. "It is dissolving! Only the barest hint of it remains!"

"Will you build upon the original glamor or create an entirely new one?" Camila asked.

Heriahn shook her head slowly. "There is nothing left to anchor to with the original binding. It must be removed first. Let us sit down. We must prepare. Did you meditate and clear your mind?"

"Yes, I'm ready," Paloma said.

"Good." The woman sat on the couch next to her, facing her, and reached for her hands. Once they were linked, she looked into Paloma's eyes. "First, we will remove the original binding. It will have a deep connection and may be painful to remove, so please be prepared to remain calm and strong. I will guide you."

Camila took the seat across from the couch and watched nervously.

"Take a deep breath and release it. Good. One more. Good. All right, let's begin," the Fae sighed out a string of words that Paloma heard, but as quickly as they touched her ears, they were gone. The Fae reached out with her mind to gather up the wisps of binding. They proved to be difficult to grasp initially due to their frayed edges. She concentrated harder and finally managed to lock on to the damaged spell. She began to tug, expecting to follow the remnants down to their source in the core of Paloma's being. Instead, they pulled up towards her with almost no effort at all. The shreds of magic came faster and faster as she pulled, and she never once dipped into Paloma's core.

Suddenly, it was over, and nothing of the original binding remained within the young woman. The tattered remains in Heriahn's grasp simply... melted away. She caught the briefest glimpse of the ends of the ethereal strands and saw... charring? She looked at Paloma, who opened her eyes.

"Are we going to start?" she asked.

Shaken, Heriahn looked over at Camila, who frowned.

"What's wrong?"

"The binding came loose with no effort. It was burned from her core!" Heriahn exclaimed.

"Will you be able to apply a new one?" Camila asked.

Heriahn frowned and nodded curtly. This was her profession. Of course, she could!

The Fae blinked at Paloma as she uttered some specific words of magic from her toolkit, attempting to see the source of the scorching, what might be inside the young woman that could have destroyed such a strong spell. She understood now how the spell dissolved. A binding unbound from its host loses its integrity very quickly when no longer powered by its host. What she didn't know was what caused the spell's connection to Paloma to be burned away. Curses, corrupting spells, and other incompatible magics were the most likely cause. She glanced at the young woman, worried what she might find inside her. She also had to be cautious to not trigger an aggressive reaction if it was a curse. She had no desire to share the curse.

Taking a deep breath, she rattled off a rapid string of syllables while holding the shape of her strongest shield spell in her mind. It formed perfectly, and she felt its smooth protection all around her. Magic could flow outwards but not inwards.

Next, she prepared the anchor spell which would bind the new glamor to Paloma's inner core. She formed this just outside of her shield and inspected it. It was perfect, but she prided herself on the craftsmanship of her work.

Finally came the preparation of the glamor itself. She'd made hundreds of these, so it was simple to do. Normally, the glamor's shape was that of a Human infant with some general features of the host, hair, and eye color if applicable. This time, she built a generic adult-sized glamor and bound it to the anchor spell. She inspected this and was satisfied. The final shape would have to come from the mind of its host. She would need Paloma's assistance when it was bound, but not until then. She looked at her with eyes glowing bright yellow.

"It's time. Open yourself to me, and no matter what, accept what I give you. Don't resist. Don't fight it. It must bind fully, or the new glamor will just fade as this one did. I will tell you when to step into the glamor and shape it to your will. Make sure you have prepared the image in your mind."

Paloma nodded nervously, then closed her eyes and took deep breaths, centering herself. She allowed herself to relax as she thought of the single flame in the dark.

Heriahn nodded with a smile as she saw the young succubus slip into a receptive state of mind. Uttering the words under her breath, she formed the image of her probe and carefully reached through the being before her to the space beyond, inside. She prepared herself to watch for signs of whatever burned the initial glamor spell. She felt an odd resistance and applied more pressure. The probe was being deflected.

She leaned back a little and looked again at Paloma. She remained receptive and relaxed. Nothing had ever deflected one of her probes before. Maybe someone shielded her with something old and rare?

Heriahn was beginning to feel uneasy. She wasn't really a specialist with what she was about to do, but she knew a few ancient words of power, and she'd be damned if she would admit to these Succubi she was incapable of doing her job. Her pride would not allow this. Using the old words, she constructed her probe spell and laced it with just a little ancient Fae magic.

The probe met less resistance this time, but a strange sympathetic vibration returned through the spell. Heriahn suddenly felt like she was falling forward until she abruptly stopped at Paloma's core. The Fae gasped in shock as wild magic raced back through the link, ignoring her shield's presence.

Paloma's eyes snapped open as she stared at the Fae, seeing her as she really was, ancient, crippled and diseased. The Fae was dying and had been for a long time. The connection between them, opened by the probe, was frighteningly intimate.

More immediate for Paloma was that the probe hurt! The Fae magic was grating harshly against the wild magic saturating her body, as the two energies were slightly out of phase. The discordance made her teeth and jaw ache, and it felt like a sharp spike was being driven through her head.

She desperately needed the Fae to finish now.

Her urgency raced back through their link, washing over Heriahn, who frantically reworked her spells to adapt them to the wild magic contained within the young woman. They didn't need to speak as their thoughts were instantly being shared. The glamor activated in its dormant state, and Paloma rapidly imprinted her body image onto it.

The pain grew too intense for Paloma to cope with rationally. She struck out blindly at the probe and felt it shatter and dissolve under the raging wave of energy flooding her mind. She may have screamed.

Heriahn certainly did and flung herself backward, surging from the young woman's being. The old Fae passed out, falling into Camila's arms as Paloma slumped back against the cushions, panting and holding her head as the pain slowly dissipated.

"What happened? Are you all right? Did it work?" Camila asked in a panic as Heriahn began to come around.

As consciousness returned to the Fae, she noticed her own glamor was no longer active. She reached for it but was in too much pain to draw the magic forward. She would have to wait. She shook off Camila's hands roughly. "Cloak! I need a cloak," she rasped through her raw throat. Camila left to get the woman one of the heavy garments every Hidden Races member kept in their closet, just in case.

The disease Heriahn had battled for so many centuries was close upon her tonight. She could feel its claws in her deep. She'd used too much energy on this girl and resented it. She glared at Paloma.

"How did you come by this energy, child? Who did you feed from?" she barked as Camila re-entered the room.

Paloma looked to her mother, whose expression turned cold.

"Who we feed from is none of your business!" she snapped.

"Wild magic! With a strength not found in the Realm of Magic we draw upon. That's Fae Council business! Expect a summons tomorrow," the crone barked back, pushed herself to her feet, leaning heavily on her cane, and grabbed the cloak. She dragged it around herself and shuffled out of the apartment.

Camila locked the door behind her, setting the protection rune. She rushed back to her daughter. "The glamor! Did it take?"

Blinking at her mother, Paloma pushed herself up to sit on the edge of the couch and steadied herself. She closed her eyes and looked inside for the glamor, and there it was, waiting for her command. She called it forward and heard her mother gasp. She opened her eyes and saw her mother looking at her wide-eyed. "What's wrong? Didn't it work? It felt like it worked!"

Camila tugged her daughter to her feet and led her to the front door to stand before a large mirror. Paloma stumbled when she saw herself, or the woman she now appeared to be. "Oh my god!" she gasped. "How... how do I explain this?" she cried.

As before, her glamor followed her hair and eye color. Her new glamor kept her white hair but deepened the blue of her eyes. Her brows arched high, but the slant of her eyes remained almost unchanged. She looked exotic, and her curves were barely subdued. She could definitely pass for Human, but she'd attract a lot of attention unless she dressed to reduce the impact of some of her attributes. She had some non-prescription glasses she would now have to wear to downplay her eyes.

The problem was she looked nothing like Paloma Villamor! She caught her mother's concerned eye in the mirror. "How can I go back to work looking like this?!?"

Camila considered the issue. Glamor spells were based closely on their host's true state, so they would evolve with them as they aged. Seeing her daughter's new glamor in place, she realized the changes Stanley brought her were permanent. She saw Paloma coming to the same realization.

So. Paloma would have to become someone new as well.

"Paloma Villamor has moved back to Spain, and her cousin Marisa has come to fill in for her until further notice. I will ask Sigrid to obtain the required documentation," Camila said firmly.

The woman in the mirror looked at her in shock and began to cry. Camila understood only too well. In her long life span, she'd had to see a number of her own identities pass on. While it was early, this was only Paloma's first time, but it wouldn't be her last.