Today, is of course Remembrance Day…

And so a poem of Remembrance on this day…

______________________________

Memories of Remembrance

By  TeraS

The world spins on and on

Day following night’s path along

A speck in the universe to see

On that speck is all we are

All we know

All we have been so far…

Time passes, history moves on

We grow older, wiser

That is what is hoped for on and on…

One moment arrives in the year

A change to think, reflect

Consider their service

We see them but occasionally

Fewer and fewer of them are left

To tell of what went on…

We move in our days without care

They watch and wonder about us

Why the memories in us all seem to fail…

The bell tolls

The silence reigns

The rifles sound over the field…

Did you remember?

Did you thank?

Did you offer to listen?

Let not the past return

Let their sacrifice be for not

Let the lessons be learned…

We are just a speck

We are all we have

We just have to learn…

They fade away again

Their words quiet

They still hope for us all…

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The story continues on, bringing more questions to be anwered…

Maybe…

But first, the Queen’s Darkness will appear…

Darkness is played by my dear friend Darkwalker’s Shadow and I love him for being there…

___________________________

Temptations XXXIV – The Grotto – Part IV

By TeraS and Thamior, Cyprusmage, and Darkwalker’s Shadow

“We could be on the ground floor now,” said John with a grin, “Or the first floor, or the second, or the sub-basement that shouldn’t exist. Time and space are…malleable here. Her rules.”

John headed off down the aisle of books, expecting Tristan to be close behind. After mulling over his words, he realised that Tristan had the wrong outlook for this situation. Further explanation was called for.

“Tera’s…not evil, you know,” he said, “She’s not our enemy, as such. Be cautious around her, but treat her with respect and we should be just fine. We’re not here to fight. We’re here to find out what she wants with us…”

“Right…her rules,” Tristan repeated.  Never a pleasant thought, knowing that you were playing by the rules of someone who might have less than… unbiased interests in the game.

“I understand she’s not strictly evil…but she clearly has an objective here.  Until I learn otherwise, I have to assume that objective is something that’s not in my best interest…or yours either.  I treat everyone with respect until they give me a reason not to…especially when they have the power that Tera is said to wield.  That doesn’t mean I need to bow to her right away,” Tristan said, clarifying his own point.

As John & Tristan approached the spiral staircase,  the door to the Director of Special Collections’ office opened and a tall, well-built man, with dark hair, silvered at the temples, walked out in front of them sipping from a large mug of hot chocolate.

Holding up his free hand, he addresses the pair… “One moment, gentlemen… I would have a word, if you wouldn’t mind…”

Looking at both of them in turn, he speaks in a full, ruch baritone – “John, you have been ‘invited” here for a reason, that reason is between you and Miss Tera… You, Tristan, have been “allowed” to continue into this sanctum after breaking in like a common criminal…”
Shaking his head, he turns and looks around the spiral staircase area, fondness in his eyes…

“Like any other library, this is a place of learning… A place for those who seek intimate knowledge of the world inside and outside themselves to discover things they could never learn otherwise… There are lessons here for everone… Allow me to give you your first lessons to contemplate… ”
As his eyes began to glow, dark mist began to grow around him as his form appeared to melt into shining black metal and then explode, growing to become a massive dragon of flowing black metal- his voice rumbling like thunder, becoming very familiar to Tristan -

“This place and these entities are under MY protection – any attempt to cause them harm will displease me greatly…”
The dragon’s voice took on a far more menacing tone- “You do not want to incur my wrath.”

John didn’t flinch. He hadn’t expected this newcomer to transform into a dragon, but his Vision showed him this man was of exceptional ability. Keeping his hands in his pockets, he gave a sidelong glance at Tristan before addressing the dragon.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, unusually calm, “We’re just gonna head up and speak to Tera. Once we’re done we’ll leave. I’ve already explained the house rules to my friend here.” He nodded towards Tristan, “So why don’t you just let us past and we’ll sort everything out. Oh and…I’d watch where you’re swinging that tail of yours. Wouldn’t want to knock any shelves over, would we?”

Tristan remained calm and collected as the middle aged looking man emerged from an office.  Sipping hot chocolate?  Clearly this wasn’t someone who just wandered into the library by chance.  He was here by choice, probably a minion of Tera.  And that meant he was playing by Tera’s rules.  And if John was correct in what he said, Tera wasn’t overly fond of shows of force.  This put Tristan a little bit more at ease, although he was still ready to act on a moment’s notice, only coming to a stop as the man held up his hand.  Tristan listened patiently to his spiel, sighing a bit on the inside when he was called a ‘common criminal’.    This guy was trying to push his buttons, but Tristan wasn’t about to bite.

But he almost did bite as the man seemed to morph into a metallic dragon.  He recognized the voice from before though…the one he had heard when he first entered.  It gave him pause, and he stalled on the course of action he had planned in his mind, remembering John’s advice.  No action…there was no need to act rash.  The dragon was large, as John was quick to point out, which gave the two young men the advantage of manueverability.  All this allowed Tristan to remain calm as John stepped forward.  He knew the rules better than the young hunter, so why not follow his lead?

The Dragon’s head turned and looked at John – and laughed lightly “Young mage, you have nerve, if not wisdom…All here is under my protection “- the dragon’s tail passes like mist through pillars and bookcases to tap him solidly in the chest – ” would you not think precautions would be taken?”

The Dragon then turned to look at Tristan- “Young Hunter… I know of your family – It has a long and distinguished history, eliminating those creatures of pure evil that would seek to feed upon or destroy any mortals they come across… “  The Dragon’s form melted to that of the tall  man once more – ” but lost to the ages was the knowledge of true evil and perceived evil.  Too many hunters in recent centuries were blinded by the true evil and hunted the perceived evil. “

He takes a sip of his hot chocolate before he continues- “Neither of you are the normal sort of visitor  that Tera invites to study here, I’ve met most of them…  but the warning stands…  ” His dark steely gaze boring directly into Tristan’s eyes – ” I am aware you know the rules, however, if you should ultimately decide to harm Tera or any of those who serve her now – I shall be … displeased…”

Turning back to John – “By the way, She’s not where you saw her last… take the stairs up to the next level the go into the great room on the right…” he smiles slightly “We call it ‘The Grotto’ – when you see it ,you’ll understand why..”

He then looks up at the ceiling… “She’s waiting for you there, now… Go on…”  Then to Tristan – “Another friendly warning – ” smiling warmly ” Tera can be the most amazing friend you will ever have… If you have the heart for it…”

Tristan held his tongue.  He found himself to be doing this far too often for his own liking.  He was, by nature, a sarcastic young man in his every day life.  He had a dry sense of humor that most would find somewhat insulting if they didn’t realize he was just overly cynical.  It was certainly something he had to keep in check when speaking to superiors or those who didn’t know him well.  Tristan categorized this man as the latter…and quite probably the former, although he wouldn’t readily admit it.  And this…dragon man…left him so many opens for quips and comments.  But still, much as he had earlier, Tristan restrained himself, although it was becoming increasingly harder to do so.

He couldn’t happen but laugh and smirk, on the inside of course, when the man directed his warning directly towards him.  It wasn’t that hard to imagine, though, that the young hunter would be the first to act, before the mage.  John had a better temper for the dimensional games that were being played…he dealt more with the abstract.  Tristan was more hands on…that was how he had been taught.

“Thank you,” Tristan said sincerely before stepping forward to the staircase, knowing that John was behind him.  He took earnest steps up the stairs, not delaying at all as the reached the next floor and made a straight path for the grand chamber that opened up on the right side of them…

As Tristan and John cleared the top of the stairs, the second floor of the library opened up into an area even more massive than the first. Directly ahead was the cartography center, featuring a shimmering, slowly rotating globe.. To the left was the exhibition room, currently featuring a large display of medieval arms and armor- in what appeared to be simulated combat. Directly behind was a darkened room labeled “Special Collections” – to John’s eye it was wrapped in layer upon layer of interwoven protections. Finally, to the right, a massive sunroom, with a central fountain, lush vegetation, comfortable seating and – the Dragon…

Smiling, he motions to the two young men – “Come along, Gentlemen, right this way…” He then turns and walks towards the very back of the sunroom, past the massive fern trees and potted palms, the tranquil fountain and the warm, soft benches, to a large mahogany door set in the far wall. A large brass and gold plaque upon the door reads “The Grotto”.

The Dragon smiles and moves a clawed hand towards them. He opened his hand revealing a gold key with a red ribbon tied to the handle…

“This door will take you to Miss Tera, Enter whenever you’re ready…” – he then handed the key to John. A moment later and his wings spread wide and he lifted into the air silently. He turned to the area above the door and with a single sweep of his wings drove towards the ceiling above the door, vanishing into nothingness as his body touched the surface there leaving them alone in the room with the key and the waiting door…

__________________________

Next time…

We arrive at the Grotto…

Tera

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This is the continuing story of the Succubi called Storm Clouds…

If you want to read previous chapters, please click the link in the Tale header at the top of the page marked Storm Clouds or click here...

Continuing the chapter and Thomas gets an idea of where he is… and where he isn’t…

_____________________

Storm Clouds

Chapter 7

By TeraS

“Thomas, talk to me.”

Camilla stood there, looking quite concerned. Tom found himself looking at her, not with the panic he had at first, but, instead, an odd curiosity.

He let out a snort, “I’m good. You wouldn’t understand.”

“That you lost someone close to you? That you where hurt? Still are? Always will be?”

Tom didn’t answer that. He could, but he felt like she was getting into something that she had no right to. So instead of answering, he turned away from her and looked at the landscape around him.

The rows and rows of grave markers made it clear that this was a place of rest for those that had passed on. For a moment, he wondered how something like Camilla could be killed, and then shoved that thought away.

It wasn’t something that he needed to think about.

Camilla frowned, “You haven’t got a lock on pain, Thomas. No one does. Not ever.”

He thrust his hands into his pockets, “Alright, I’ll assume that you are telling me the truth and that you aren’t going to kill me.” He heard her coming closer. Passing him, she nodded as her tail moved from side to side behind her. “Why me?”

Her tail stopped, “That’s not for me to tell you. If you want to know, you’ll have to ask Tera about that.”

He managed a smile, “Passing the buck or thinking that I can’t handle it?”

A shrug, “Both.”

He walked up to her, looking at how she had changed. She was still the girl he had met not that long ago, just with some optional extras added to her. If he overlooked those, she was still a woman… No. That was wrong. She was what she was, but she didn’t lie to him … that one thing alone made her trustworthy.

“Alright. I’ll talk to her later. Camila, what … why are you?”

She rubbed her hands along the side of her dress, “We aren’t all evil, nor are we all good. We make choices just like you do. Sometimes they are good ones, sometimes they are bad ones, but we choose to do and be what we are.”

“Nice speech.”

She winked, “Thanks… Been working on that for centuries, actually.”

“Now how about the unvarnished truth?”

She nodded, “In short, I believe we are in limbo between light and dark, that both want us and both are afraid of us. You can think of us as wildcards, Thomas, but there is one thing, one promise that we have made that we can’t forget … people like you have to make your own choices, decisions, and actions …”

He put a hand up: “I didn’t choose to be here.”

“Oh yes you did. You chose to come. You chose to knock on the door. You chose to see what you could find out. All of that was your choice.” She waved a hand, “All of this followed because it had to; you would have never accepted a lie…”

He thought about that and came to the decision that she was right. He wouldn’t have let this lie, ignored it, moved on. That wouldn’t have happened because it was not his nature to do that.

“Besides giving me the breadcrumbs to find you, why did you pick me?”

Camilla shook her head, “Can’t say.”

A question came to him, “Tell me something. Are there angels and all that other stuff?”

“Yes. Angels, devils, dragons, faeries, and more are all real. It’s just that your world has forgotten about the wonders around it. … most of the time.”

“So what are you, exactly.”

She looked almost embarrassed, “Beings like me are Succubi, Thomas. There are Incubi here as well.”

He arched an eyebrow, “I’ve heard of those.”

“No. You have heard of something like us, not us.”

“Explain.”

“A Succubus or Incubus kills through sex. We don’t. We gave that up ages ago just to be able to be who what we are right now. Independent beings that serve no one.”

Tom thought that over, “Okay, so you split away and you do what you want.”

A slight nod.

“That’s dangerous, Camilla. No rules means nothing to control you.”

A smile, “There is. One very important thing, Thomas. We know the past. We won’t go back to it again.”

Tom wiped a hand over his eyes, “You know that this is all too much to take in.”

Her hand was soft and gentle on his shoulder, “You are, really, one of the few people that can handle this stuff, Thomas. Most people would be screaming and running in circles at this point.”

“What makes you think I won’t?”

“Curiosity … You want to know the secrets. Your mind is wanting to know answers to questions you have had since the day you were born. Most of all, you won’t let yourself back down from a fight, Thomas.”

Tom thought that over for a while. It was true that he was wondering about a lot of things … more than he wanted to be. But three things came to the forefront. He had a mystery. He had a job to do… and he had a promise to keep.

He looked her straight in the eye, “I need a partner in this; someone who knows the lay of the land; someone who will watch my back.”

She nodded, “You always will in our world.”

He offered his hand, “I … I will trust you Camilla. I trust that you will watch my back.”

She took his hand, “I promise. I want a promise from you, too: wherever this goes, whoever did it, whatever it takes, you won’t walk away.”

They shook on it and then Tom asked, “Where are we? Fill me in.”

“You are at, what you would understand as, our cemetary.” She pointed towards the mountain covered in fog at the edge of the markers, “It continues far up the mountain, almost to the very top. Everyone that we can return home is here. Some never return and we are less for that. From the first of us to the last of us, our bodies rest here.”

Then she pointed into the distance to Tom’s right where three figures collected themselves around a marker, “Her family is up there.”

“Let’s go. I want to talk to them.”

It took them a good fifteen minutes of walking until Thomas got his first good look at Patricia’s family. Her husband was talking to their children, trying to explain to them, he assumed, what had happened and why their Mother would not be returning to them.

The husband was a short blond man, unassuming, someone you wouldn’t look twice at in the street. He wore a dark suit in comparison to the children. Looking at the children, Tom was struck with the realization that neither of them had horns or tails.

“Why don’t the kids have horns and a tail like you? Or their father for that matter?”

“They haven’t decided if they want to be like us. So they are simply children with their own ideas and goals. If they decide to become like us, then they’ll have to go through the ceremony and be picked by a Tail.”

“Picked? By a Tail? How does that work?”

She shook her head, “I’ll explain later. Not in front of the children. We protect them from what we are so that they can make up their own minds…”

With that, Camilla’s horns and tail shimmered and vanished, but her clothing remained transformed. As they came within earshot of Patricia’s family she added, “I’d thank you not to talk about it please?”

Tom nodded, but resolved to ask Camilla more questions later about their rules.

Rules were meant to be broken in the eyes of some people…

Reaching the father, Tom offered his hand, “My sympathies for your loss sir.”

He stood and paused for a moment before taking the offered hand, “Thank you. Name’s Brent.” The grip was firm but not overwhelming, although Tom had the distinct feeling that he was being judged at that moment by this man.

A nod, “Tom. I’d like some of your time.”

Camilla went to the kids, soon hugging them and drawing their attention from Tom and their father. She gave him a nod, and Tom took that as his chance to start his questioning, assuming that Brent agreed.

Brent  spoke to the kids, “Okay you two, go with Auntie Camila, her friend wants to talk to me. Now be good right?”

A chorus of, “Yes Father”, and then Camilla and the kids began to walk towards a path leading away from the grave markers.

Brent then rested a hand on the marker which Tom now saw had Patricia’s name on it, “I’ve been told that you are looking into my wife’s death. I’ve been told that Tera asked you to do this. That true?”

“She did, I was before I knew about what you people are. She’s hard to say no to…”

A chuckle, “She’s the Queen. Rarely pushes people, mostly suggests and guides when needed. But she has always let people choose to disappoint her or not.”

“Have you?”

“I’ve disappointed myself.”

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I discovered another process YouTube that shows an artist creating the image of a Succubus…

And in case the embedding doesn’t work:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=stSVqAT8Z3c

The artist is Shelldragon, whom also has a Deviantart site you can find here.

He creates quite a lot of fantasy images, over the month of October he did a new monster everyday of which this work of a Succubus is a part of…

You can find the completed work here:

http://shelldragon.deviantart.com/art/Oct-4-2009-Succubus-139372153

I haven’t received permission to post a copy of this work here, but it’s only a click away!

Tera

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This past Halloween and October was the first writing challenge in the Succubi Realm… I’ve posted a story that I wrote a couple of weeks ago and this week is a story that James generously wrote for the contest…

*huggles*

Tera

____________________

Horns of Seduction

As soon as she stepped in the door, Chloe began scanning the room for available guys. After all, it had been a week since she and Brad had broken up; it was time to get into the game. And, besides, she looked pretty damn hot in this costume if she did say so herself. 

Chloe had a way of collecting men. Most of them she threw back, of course—they would be much too much trouble to feed and paper train—though she kept a few on fairly short leashes . . . one literally, at least for that one long weekend. 

Her girlfriends teased her that her birth certificate was wrong, that her name should really be Cleo, as in “patra.” Sometimes that was meant to nudge her, and more than a little; her friend Andi insisted she was “Queen of De-Nile” because all she thought about was boys and partying and not the real needs of real people around her.

But Andi was off at some boring charity event, entertaining poor inner-city kids with lame games and candy in some smelly old gym. Chloe was at this delicious party, waiting for some lucky hot person to be the first to put a drink in her hand, dressed like all those jokes. Actually her Cleopatra was more of a Cecil B. DeMille-ish wet dream version: a gold lame, floor length, sheath and spaghetti-strap sandals with three-inch spiked heels. Her wig of shoulder-length, jet-black hair left her looking like Elizabeth Taylor’s younger, slightly slimmer cousin, from those old movies where Liz was HOTT. She surveyed the room, knowing she was the queen.

Spying a rather hunky-looking centurion—how appropriate—across the room, she slinked toward him, ready to let him put those chiseled good looks to work. There was some sort of game going on, a set of fake devil horns being passed person to person. This was of no concern to her . . . until somebody popped the horns on her head.

“Hey, these don’t go with my . . .” But those words weren’t even out of Chloe’s mouth before the world around her wavered and shifted, leaving her in a stone room lit by lamps, quite alone. “. . . outfit!” Chloe looked down, and, while she was still wearing a sheath, decorated with various beads, it was hardly gold lame. The CFM sandals were replaced with a much simpler variety. Her skin was darker, as well.

“No they do not go with your outfit! Not at all!” Chloe turned to confirm that she was not alone. The sultry voice belonged to a shapely, leggy redhead with a tan even deeper than her own. The woman’s skin was almost red, and she had striking green eyes, and black horns coming out of her head, with a matching tail. “You have been sweet in your devotion to me, even if your scribes keep portraying me as a cat in the official record. But we have work to do, Your Majesty.”

“Your Majesty?” Chloe puzzled. “Just what are you talking about?”

“I know we have . . . enjoyed each other, Cleopatra,” the strange and alluring woman purred as she rubbed up behind Chloe, “but now we must work. You must be prepared for this Roman who is coming.”

“But Julius, he’s . . . so old, much older than I am!” How did she know that?

“It doesn’t matter, darling. You must do this for the sake of your people. We’ve practiced many things these past few weeks.” The titian woman bit into her young friend’s shoulder, while her long nails traced the opposite ear. “You have been paying very close attention, yes, Majesty?”

It was now Chloe . . . well, Cleo . . . who was constantly purring. “She thinks I am the Queen of ancient Egypt, and it looks like I am, so what the hell?” she reasoned. “All I know is this feels wonderful.” In her purrs was a simple “Yessssssssssssss.”

“You know that this is a subtle art, don’t you, my precious?” A hand was now reaching under Cleo’s dress and cupping a breast, rubbing the dark brown circle into a rock–hard and majestic peek before moving on to the other. Her subject’s quiet moans only seemed to grow more fervent and wanton. “There is very little that is forceful or blatant.” A tongue flicked the young queen’s earlobe between phrases. “All of your moves need to be sensual . . . delicate . . . tantalizing.” That tail of hers, with its piked end, was winding around Cleo’s leg, the arrowhead itself finding and probing her rapidly dampening slit.

“These are the ways of a succubi, darling,” the black-horned siren sighed. “It is not about sex—well, not sex alone—but seduction and sensuality, and it is never entirely about the self, but the other, and about our place in the collective.” The Egyptian’s juices were beginning to trickle along the tail that was releasing them. Cleopatra was entirely beguiled, and her otherworldly mentor continued: “The romantic ensnarement you will perform is for the sake of others, but you will feel these feelings you have had with me. And you won’t need these anymore.”

A hand snatched the horns out of Chloe’s costume wig, and she was back in the party, though feeling a bit damp. There was the centurion. She quickly chatted him up and had him ensorcelled. He was ready to find some beers and a room when she had a thought, and pulled out her cell: “Hey, Andi? How long is that party going on? Can you still use some help? Great!”

She turned to her hunk: “I’m going to a better party, sweets, one where I can make a difference. Of course, you can come along . . . and Imight make it worth your while later.”

In a corner, there was woman with black horns, green eyes, and a smile.

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I really love the art that people create that have Succubi in them…

This art is on a mousepad, but I’d love to see it as a small poster or mebby a small art print someday… somehow…

The artist is Miyuki Taito, other than that I know little else about him or his other works…

You can see this on sale here.

Lovely wings and look of her, though the tail seems a little bit off… Not quite a devil tail is it?

He did another Devil Girl mousepad  as well:

You can see this on sale here.

Again, her tail seems really odd…

Still, I love the Succubus art he created a bunch!

Tera

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This week and next, I have found two really wonderful images of Succubi that I want to share with you all…

And here is the first one:

This is just gorgeous… I wish that I knew who the artist is exactly…

Any ideas as always are welcome!

Tera

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