Sword of St. Michael - Epilogue
#50 of Sampson and Devilah
Happy Endings
Well, for most everyone anyway.
In which Something is Lost, Something is Found, Devilah gets fed at last, and Faniel regrets some life choices.
This is the end of the Sword of St. Michael. Obviously a continuation is in the cards though. After a hiatus and some time to think up a new story which may or may not involve the further adventures of Sampson, Devilah and Faniel.
| Later, after they had settled into the unoccupied cabin...
"And... I won't be bothered by Hell anymore?" asked Devilah, her eyes bright with hope.
"Nope. No more than any other mortal anyway. You are the proverbial 'One That Got Away'".
Devilah looked at Sampson. "I guess I'm sorta homeless now."
"Join the crowd, Devilah."
"As long as we're together, Sampson, I think I'll be just fine." |
"I suspect you'll find that's a bit of magic you can no longer do, Devilah," Faniel said predicted.
"It's fine, Devilah," Sampson assured her. "For now anyway."
Devilah tried anyway, but as expected, nothing happened. "Tell me, Faniel, is there anything you don't know?" |
"...nor proper posture when in the presence of males I see. We'll need to work on that." Devilah noted.
"What do you mean?"
"You just gave Sampson a serious hard-on. Don't worry about it for now, but if you're not going to wear clothes, there are some rules you'll need to learn. Like 'knees together' for a start."
Sampson interrupted, eager to change the subject, "So! Anyone up for a midnight snack?" |
Sampson shrugged, "I can sure try!"
"Then let's get some sleep and you can catch some fish for breakfast. Sleep isn't something I've done before, but this body seems to desire it. What would be the... er... proper way to sleep in this social situation?"
Devilah suggested the Angel sleep at the foot of the bed for tonight anyway, so that she and Sampson could celebrate in their own way. Then Devilah went out to wash a bit. She found she too had a desire for sleep. Perhaps this was another new aspect of her mortal life that she'd have to get used to. |
"Dammit," she thought to herself, "I could really use a good... celebration too. Oh well, at least I've got Mr. Sparky till the batteries run out."
She began rummaging through her inventory. Then rummaging again. Then desperately taking everything out one-by-one. It wasn't there.
Faniel stepped in. "What are you looking for?" |
"Um... Faniel... when Agrat sent that 'essence' away. You said it had to occupy some object, right?"
"Yes. Why?"
"Could it have occupied something in my inventory, and been blown away along with it?" |
"Well FUCK!" |
"Is anybody there?" she asked to the dark. The only thing she heard was an odd buzzing noise. Slowly, she traced it to it's source.
"What the hell is this?" she thought, bringing the oddly shaped device out into the light. It vibrated in her hand. It looked like a... well, a rather large and black penis to be blunt about it.
On the back was a button. She pushed it and the buzzing stopped, yet some inner power still hummed somehow. |
Then she left to clean up her new toy. |
"Oh? What is it?"
"Don't peek! Just hand me that jar of oil would you?"
The Jarl of Whiterun smiled. This oil had some quite specific uses that had nothing to do with cooking.
"Now, turn over..." |
"I have to retrieve that?!" she thought. She looked up at the sky and mentally shouted "This is too cruel. I told you it was an accident!"
When no answer was forthcoming, she looked over at the lovers now rutting like two animals in heat and sighed, "I hate my life." |