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[Xoriah]

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“A daemon?”

Kaylor’s eyes flashed dark fire through her soul as he nodded. “He took the Oracle.”

The bottom fell out of Xoriah’s stomach. She had lost her ability to formulate words. The others in the mead hall began chattering, each version of the story tripping over the last.

“He said he had come to claim a slave that had been stolen from him.” Kaylor’s demeanor was stolid as he spoke. “And he said the succubus who stole him would know where to find the Oracle.”

Xoriah shook her head as the others grew quiet at Kaylor’s thinly-veiled accusation. She looked around at the agitated crowd, then raked her fingers through her hair, allowing the human charm to fall away from her face. Her eyes went white, glowing brilliantly with emotion, and black horns nestled themselves in her crimson curls.

If asked, she could not have explained why she had removed the charm. Perhaps it was an honesty that she felt the people deserved in the face of what they had lost. Perhaps she needed them to trust her, if they would ever find the Oracle alive. She looked from face to shocked face, then back to Kaylor, silently imploring the brighter half of the two spirits that writhed against one another within him. His eyes betrayed no emotion.

What is left to hurt me now? She wondered silently. My worst fears have been realized. Apollyon has come to Stonegate. But he will never take my angel.
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Come with me where chains will never bind you...all your grief at last, at last behind you. ~Les Miserables