When evening came, I returned again to the outskirts of village. I had nowhere to dwell, after all. No kin or companions.
Rather, I sat in the dark, staring at the moon and stars, wondering what I was presumed to do now. The reply came soon.
She rose quickly from the ground, at first emerging as nothing more than a silhouette, then slowly combining into the structure of a woman.
The air throbbed with energy around her, and abruptly I felt smothered. I backed up, anxiety filling every inche of me, my lungs unfit to take in air. Wind rose from nowhere, blowing my hair and smoothing the grass around me.
Then, she stood before me, and the evening was still again.
Lilian. Goddess of the Succubi. The First Woman. Lady of the Night.
Anxiety like I had never known surge over me—and affection. I had never been fascinated to a woman before, but Lilian has that impact on everyone. It is fixed in her being. No one can restrain her.
