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Father forces pagan daughter to attend boring x-mas party.

She was a powerful fighter in her own right, baring demon blood that gave her speed as well as bringing a truce between demon, Nariel, and Qirlian Clans. Next back from her, knelt Vedra the physician, Nassa the Livra's technician and pilot, and Mirl who was running communications for the Livra even though he more frequently held a tech/pilot position. The first position on his sword hand was held by Nig, who was navigator on the Livra. The other four positions were held by security, cloned and reared for battle, Sa, Su, and Si. As each knelt and whistled their assigned note, Prince Karlirn felt relief. Each one of them was his responsibility. Losses in battle were unavoidable, if one came to battle, but to lose a retainer for something as ridiculous as ruptured fuel cell, over the sabotage of those who wished for war would have torn his heart.

He stood there pulling off his gloves, trying to decide what kind of place Nig had found for them, when someone finally appeared to greet them. Flowing blue silk covered a form that was likely human, though moved with enough grace to perhaps have carried a bit of elfish blood. A long braid of reddish hair flowed over the right shoulder and down, curving just a bit over one breast, and bouncing against the curve of muscular legs. Her arms were bare, covered only by iridescent blue tattoos, lines that swirled around, climbed her arms and disappeared under the blue silk.

Her eyes meet his and held. The hair stood up on the back of his neck. Her bare feet made little sound on the black and white marble. She circled him, so close that he could smell the scent of her, like bergamot, like sex, musky and strange. Her finger touched his shoulder, pressing against the silver coat he wore, before lifting a strand of his silver hair. Blue sparks danced over the tips, but he refused to move, refused to respond to the inspection. Not a single one of his bondkin moved, responded. She released his hair, and moved to stand in front of him.

Of an equal height, his golden eyes returned the stare of her human blue ones. She leaned forward and touched her lips to his, pulling at his lower lip, the tip of her tongue flicking quickly against the still slightly blue with cold flesh of his lip. Without blinking, he watched her, giving no response at all, and she withdrew, a very small smile lifting her lips.

"Welcome to Airos, Prince Karlirn Qirlian," she said, "We did not expect you, but you are worthy."

At that, he tipped his head slightly. "I require shelter from the storm, and fuel for my ship. Repairs can be effected rapidly. How may I reward you?"

She laughed now. "This is the Temple of Airos, Prince. Even if you were not worthy, we would shelter and aide you. As you are worthy, you must pay, you must accept. But you may choose."

Karlirn thought the ways of offworlders were odd, in the politest phrasing. The storm that had grounded them put polite etiquette at a low priority. "What choices?"

Her smile sent shivers down his back, raised goosebumps down his arm. "Fear not, Prince, for what you choose is the true choice of your soul." She fanned out an array of jewel tiles, bringing them from nowhere to hold them out to him. All colors of the rainbow, paper thin jewels the size of cards. "To each is a door, within lay the gift which your soul will choose."

"Are they keys," he asked, tucking his gloves under his belt. They drew his fingers, these cards, as he moved his fingers over them, never touching, the surface of each transparent jewel lighted with a pattern, shimmering only a moment as his fingers passed.

"The one you choose is the room we will give to you." She said, both hands holding the cards now. "Does one call to you beyond the others?"

It was blue, with silver lines, at the very edge, mostly covered by other cards.

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