Chapter 134: The Witch of the Mooring
They served as either political or industrial assistants.
"Israfel Blüdthïrste! Please report to the Headmistress\'s Office!"
This announcement carried on all the halls in the citadel. It was the first day of weekend. Rafel had spent two more nights in Copenhagen Hall, with his slave. Aya Naamah had missed him a great deal, and those 48 hours had been spent shagging to a breadth of syncope. The thin walls carried on their affair—to which ceaseless banging at the other end reminded the duo just how thin the walls were.
Rafel, hearing the voice calling in a daze, rubbed his eyes and pinched his brow.
His succubus had exerted him last night. He was thinking a nice morning cappuccino by Rosa\'s divine hand, and then a morning run, perhaps a detour to the playing ball courts for a bout with Corazón. He felt like sparring with the tomboy again. Now that he had greatly satisfied his slave, her [Lust System] wouldn\'t be needing a flesh rod charging for a while.
Although Succubi tended to want sex always, he was a [Rank A] Blood Prince, with attributes for intimacy in the nineties. And so, his cock was divine too. Naamah would be fine.
He was staring at her cute blue form, curled like a horned ball of very sexy Smurf—a bit twisted—into his side when the Hobbit\'s voice came charging down the mic systems again; like it knew exactly what Rafel was doing.
This time it was louder.
"ISRAFEL BLÜDTHÏRSTE! PLEASE REPORT TO THE HEADMISTRESS\'S OFFICE!"
"Ugh. Imps!" Rafel rolled off the bed. He carefully uncurled Aya\'s tail from his lower torso and hit the showers. Thankfully, he had enough mana points to visit quickly the [Uncommon Witch Shop], where he purchased a simple [Squire] getup. It costed only 400 soul coins. To combat the sun which he could see spearing in the whiteness of Aya\'s dorm room curtains, Rafel added a hat with a wide brim.
"Like Lord Rayden, Meister of Thunders!" He studied himself in the mirror.
Planting a final kiss on Aya\'s cheek, he turned and scaped the room for the darkest corner in which to slip away.
A buggy ride would only be tiresome.
He pulled on his crimson [Demon Core]. "Breath of Erebus. Clave of Hades. Shadow Wand ability!" A string of pure blackness curled around his arm. He entered into the darkness, dissolving into the pitch black. He was vanished from the room.
It took less than a mortal second for him to reanimate. And he did so right in the middle of the luxury penthouse chamber in the administrative tower.
The Headmistress\'s Office.
Dr. Nicara Shetty was in a boxed meeting in her glass office, and quickly waved off her compadres to the private elevator at the first sight of the coalescing shadows. Sure enough, out from the frothing darkness stepped a virile young man.
Her office suddenly smelled like Alaskan tundra and Castamere rains. The primly dressed Doctor waited for the elevator to shut out the last man with the briefcase. Then she said, "Quite the entrance."
Rafel smiled, "Good morning," and started walking for her, but Nicara held up a hand.
"We need to talk." She paused and let the seriousness of her voice sink in. Rafel nodded and sank into a swanky couch nearby. The beautiful choco-skinned Headmistress leaned into her wide marble desk and continued, "I thought we had a deal, Israfel—no more shenanigans!
What is this I\'m hearing about a blackout in Hall Copenhägen, and the students bowing to a quote-unquote, big black demon, muttering AVE DOMINUS NOX?
You are the [Apollyon of Hel], Israfel. But it is for your safety that no one but a select few know of this. I have a duty to protect you, Your Eminence. And I will do this strictly if I have to. From today, you\'re grounded from all extracurriculars—"
Rafel laughed. "What! How can you call me Your Eminence and treat me like a child at the same time?"
Nicara wasn\'t laughing. "—and I forbid you from all this," she waved a hand down her hot, curvy body. "No more pussy for you, young man."
"Oh come on!"
"In addition, you have accrued seven demerits."
Rafel balked. "So what? I get detention again?"
"No—" Nicara rose in her heels so beautifully it reminded him of the tigress she was. She finished softly, "—you take a hike."
Then she explained. "Since you have the desire to exploit your [Dire Trait], there might be matter of consequence to the institute you can help with. There is a certain deviant in the trails north of the Academy. A Witch who was let go on an extreme accusation.
We only just learned she habits the mooring halfway up the mountain. She didn\'t leave on the boats off Corynthia like she was supposed to. She\'s a trespasser. Find her. Capture her! This is your punishment.
No partying for you this weekend."
"I hear you, Doctor," Rafel held up his hand, "but if I may ask, what kind of extreme accusation was she expelled on?"
Nicara turned around and rounded her desk to her boss chair. She dipped into it on ladylike manner.
"Your fellow hikers have all the information you need. Go. I need to get back to my meeting," she replied.
Rafel stood and began to move out, but at the elevators, he paused, "No matter how strict you may try to be with me, you still found those to hike out the north trails with me. That tells me a lot, Doctor Shetty!" Rafel wagged his brows knowingly. His smile was contagious. Unable to help herself, Nicara grinned too. "Go!" She said.
And so it was that Rafel found himself in the wonderful company of his two special friends, Percival and Rosamunde. They were his fellow hikers. Rosa arrived on site at the north stone walls, just over the arcane wards, with a pair of hard mountain boots—and the warmest smile. "You can\'t hike in Squire shoes, now, can you, mi\'lord?"
The three of them hugged, and began the path up the bushes fringing the institute\'s high walls. It got thicker and colder as they legged on. And soon, the thickets grew so high they had to spread them with sticks before passing through. It was untamed land, but still it belonged to the academy. And Rafel hadn\'t forgotten that the Headmistress had called this witch of the mooring a trespasser.
The trail was an upward incline, and you didn\'t even notice it until the feet hurt.
As they jumped stones over a running brook, Rafel sent his eyes up to the canopy of dark trees. One thing still boggled his mind. He asked it.
"What unspeakable crime did this witch commit?"
Percival scratched his head and looked away. Rafel turned next to Rosa. She blinked her gray ones and mutely replied. "She raped a boy." .net
Rafel nodded. "Yes, this is felonious. But nothing compared to the sinfulness back in Hel. Surely, this isn\'t the first the Academy has heard of women rapists."
"No, but it\'s the first time the victim was the Headmistress\'s son. The witch of the mooring at the time was a Fourth Year [Gorgon] of the Raven Arc. She was set to graduate in a fortnight. . ." Rosa continued speaking as they climbed through bluebells and sunflowers, and meadows and willows. But Rafel had stopped listening at the word, Headmistress.
His mind fired in all directions.
Wait! Nicara had a son?!
Rosa finished glumly with, "the child didn\'t survive. He was but seven winters old. And everyone knows [Gorgons] are giants."
Rafel didn\'t even know what to fucking think!