With Good Intent by Guinevere A Hart – Prologue

The Spire, White Range Mountains

A high white tower, ancient as the world, thrust from the side of a great mountain to caress a star-filled midnight sky.  Summer had barely kissed the mountains, rivulets of water only just beginning to rush between snow covered banks.  Piles of ice-crusted snow still cradled the base of the tower.  The wind swirled glittering crystals round and round to the top of the Spire.  There, the dome was opened, and the great lens of the tower’s celestial observatory protruded to study the closest of Velith’s three moons.

Mordas Amorgahn, High Scepter of the Spire, reluctantly looked away from the eyepiece of the telescope to make notes in his ledger.  He looked again at great green Goja, the largest of the three moons of his beloved planet, Velith.  Not for the first time, he wondered at the lights he saw on the moon’s surface and cursed his limits.  He could stare for hours, but nothing would change the fact that he would never know.  Accepting defeat again, Mordas sat back and worked the wheels of the mechanism.  Making a few small adjustments, he was able to see little grey Kria, the smallest moon.  It would not be long before that distant moon moved into a position behind Goja.  It was not a night for Mina, the mottled mid-sized moon, though he could see in his mind’s eye where the celestial body was.  In just one year, there would be a celestial alignment not seen for thirty six hundred years.  The twin suns, Artath and Bremorah, would align with Velith and her three moons.

Mordas sighed and flicked his dark, tapered ears in irritation.  People tended to become deranged when such things happened.  The history texts, such as they were, said that thirty six hundred years ago, the world nearly came to an end.  He wondered if such a thing could happen again.  He turned to the raven perched on the back of his chair.  “Any predictions for our future, my old friend?”

The emerald necklace that Kruptos, the raven, wore caught the lamplight as it cocked its head at the arch-mage.  “Open your mind, Master Mordas.  Do you not feel the stirrings of your waking Goddess?  The future is the past.”

Mordas wanted to ask his familiar to clarify his statement, but a slight tingle ran up from the balls of his feet to the top of his head.  There was a disturbance in the tower.  He closed his eyes, sending sensitive tendrils of his mind throughout the Spire and located the trouble.  “The damn summoning chamber again.  I’m getting far too old to deal with these young people, Kruptos.”  Ethical Arcana was a required first year course, and yet, Mordas found that he constantly needed to reteach these simple lessons.  The children hardly ever gave him trouble.  It was the young adults that thought it alright to bend and break the rules.  Not for the first time, he wondered if he should just put them all out of the tower as soon as they came of age.

The raven ruffled his feathers and chuckled at the aged dark-elf.  After Kruptos hopped onto Mordas shoulder, the arch-mage stood and gestured his staff into his hand.  With another simple flourish, he teleported himself and the bird to the depths of the tower.  There, once again, his students were involved in the unauthorized summoning of other-worldly beings.  It was the same thing every time; randy students pulling lust demons through the Aetherium into Velith, with no regard for the consequences.

The summoning chamber thrummed with a sexual energy, as Mordas had expected, but there was something different.  It felt dark to him, something sinister that he could not quite place.  He noticed that the students were all grouped together, rather than pairing off as they normally would.  On the altar, a woman lay between two men.  She gave and received oral pleasures to the man in front of her, while the other man took her from behind.  A third man stood behind that one with his cock buried between his buttocks.  On the other side of the altar, a woman stood pumping her fingers in and out of the rectum of the man being sucked, while yet another man filled her with fingers and cock.  They were a sweaty, moaning tangle of limbs and throbbing bodies, seemingly oblivious to the thing they had summoned to the chamber.

Within their runic circle though, was no lust demon.  It was a thing Mordas had not seen in his lifetime.

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