The Paradise Gate

Ch.3 A Better Fate Than Wisdom

Iron bands of tension lifted from Dalli's ribcage with her strange spirit's acquiescence to their bargain. She'd been so used to their constricting weight that its absence was shocking. She felt in the moments afterward like she might simply step up into the sky if she so chose.

That is, until Lycinder grounded her again.

"There are just some minor details we must attend," he informed her after rising from the dramatic display of his bow at her feet.

Dalli narrowed her eyes. Of course, his promises had been too good to be true.

"And what might those be?" she demanded, wary.

Lycinder gave an airy wave. "Oh, nothing to worry about, mistress. I simply have a stipulation or two to make, and then we must finalize our arrangement."

"Stipulations?"

"Well, yes. I'll have to insist that you not be given the power to compel me to tell you anything about the Aethral Realms, the Gates, or my time there, that I do not wish to reveal."

"But... but, no! You have all the secrets of the universe and you won't tell me any of them?" Dalli was crestfallen. She'd been a student of aethral harmonics, after all. Now, she'd managed to summon a daemon who could speak, and he wouldn't tell her anything useful? It rankled, to say the least.

"I didn't say that; I said you couldn't compel me to tell you. Besides, what does it matter? Your soul will never cross the Final Gate, and I thought you cared for nothing but your revenge?"

"That doesn't mean I'm not curious," Dalli grumbled, though she was mollified somewhat, and refocused on her goal. "But fine, I suppose I can live with that."

"Splendid," Lycinder replied. "Furthermore, you cannot compel me to show you my primary form as it is in the Aethral Realms."

"Alright," said Dalli. She didn't see why it would matter, especially since he'd claimed it was close to the shape he wore now, anyhow.

Lycinder seemed surprised that she didn't wish to argue the point, but he quickly moved on. "Excellent. Then, shall we seal this compact?"

Dalli felt a moment's apprehension like she was forgetting something important, but if she was, she couldn't call it to the fore of her mind, and she knew the achievement of her goals was all that really mattered.

"How do we do that?" she asked.

A devilish grin broke across Lycinder's handsome face. "With a kiss, of course."

Dalli blushed furiously, but she refused to let him see her any more flustered, and she would rip out her own soul right here and shred it before she admitted to him that she'd never actually been kissed, so she kept her gaze even and her tone cold when she replied, "Fine. Get on with it, then."

The brontide of Lycinder's low laughter slid down her spine, slipping into all the quiet places inside her.

"So brave, little mistress, but I should warn you: it isn't the sort of kiss you're imagining."

Dalli blushed harder. "I wasn't..." she interrupted, but Lycinder's all-too-knowingly raised brow and quirked lips took the wind from the sails of her indignation.

"As I was saying, this is a kiss of a different stripe. Through it, you will take a sip of my soul."

Dalli's eyebrows shot up. "How do I do that?"

"Not to worry, my lady; I shall ease it down your throat. I will try to be gentle." There was that smirk again. "All you need do is swallow."