Chapter 2: The Law of Hospitality

Lyonza was sitting in the yurt in the place of the guest of honor. Raxen took his place of honor on her shoulders, as a cloak. The owner of the yurt, an old nomadic elf, snub-nosed, wrinkled, with a shiny bald head, amid a disheveled shock of gray hair, treated her to local drink. Lionza was afraid to imagine what it was made of. The Chapter of Dragoniers Order liked to send her far and for a long time. Therefore, she traveled a lot. She had tasted both fermented mare’s milk and a drink made from griffin urine. The swill of the local elves tasted something in between. But the drink warmed up well, and this is the main thing.

“I do not understand...” meanwhile the old man told her, “who are you. I have never met such a creature.”

And it was not about Lyonza’s red skin. Local elves occasionally encountered caravans heading west for silk and spices. And among the caravaneers were creatures with skin of all shades, representatives of all possible races. It was the norm for the locals that all outsiders looked wonderful and varied. And Lyonza did not particularly stand out against the background of all this. The owner of the yurt was worried about the much more burning question of how to relate to it. As a man or as a woman.

“What’s the difference?” asked Lionza, taking a sip of elven booze.

“If you are a weak man, you should be taken as a servant. If a strong man, accept as an honored guest. If an ugly woman, make her a servant. If beautiful - make a wife. But wait a month, suddenly you belong to the neighbors, it will not work out well.”

“But you already accept me as a guest of honor.”

“It’s because you are a sorceress and rode a big cat. And then she turned it into a hide. You are subject to magic, which means you are strong as a man.”

Lyonza chuckled. In the civilized kingdoms, Lyonza preferred a horse, since the locals were afraid of a huge leopard and were further strengthened in the opinion that she was a witch or a demoness. In the wild lands, Raxen was, on the contrary, useful, as he made the aborigines fearful. And if they saw how it turns into a skin and back, it guaranteed safe passage and a whole heap of incredible legends.

“Can’t women be strong?”

“Every man has a spear, that’s why he is a man. How will you fight without a spear?”

Lyonza laughed. She understood that the locals have a specific perception of the world, and nothing can be done about it. The yurt is divided into two parts by a heavy canopy, one half for men, the other for women. The same partition in the head of each of the local elves. She had already drunk a decent amount of their stinking nectar, a little floating before her eyes. She hiccupped and thought it would be nice to try to break this partition.

“Why, I have a spear, dear!” she answered, “here, look!”

She lifted her skirt and, in front of the stricken nomad, made her spear grow and rise in full force.

“O! Yes, you are still a man! “ he said, shaking his head and clattering his tongue.

“And you look below!”

“O! Below you are a woman...”

“And what do you say to that?”

The old man thought about it.

“You put me in a difficult position!” he said finally.

“Why?”

“According to the law of hospitality, I must offer you my daughter if you are a strong man. Or marry your son if you are a beautiful woman. I don’t know what to do.”

“Do you have both a son and a daughter?”

“Oh, I have many children. Now they have all gone to other camps. There were only two younger ones left, just a son and a daughter.”

“So offer me both, if so!”

The old man scratched his bald spot, shining in the light of the lamp.

“Good,” he said, and left, leaving Lyonza in some surprise. She was just joking, and he took everything at face value. Although, hunger made itself felt. She hasn’t fucked in over two weeks. This is especially painful for a succubus. Without sex, he can last a maximum of a month, and then he will start to go crazy like a vampire without blood. Moreover, self-satisfaction will not help here. Succubs need someone else’s energy, which is released in the process. Real succubs usually drink their partner to the very end, but Lyonza never got it. She took exactly as much as she needed, why take someone’s life?

Judging by how long he was gone, the old man went to the neighboring yurt. According to the law of hospitality, the guest was left to sleep in the best dwelling. The owners, as far as possible, went to the next one. The quiet footsteps of two pairs of feet in felt boots were heard. The canopy opened and two young elves, a boy and a girl, entered. Both are short, broad-shouldered, almost the same face, with huge cat eyes, large pointed ears, in almost identical deels.

Only the young man had deel yellow, the girl red. That’s the whole difference. How different they are from their eastern counterparts. Those have long been mixed with people, have become tall and slender. But Lyonza liked these stocky creatures, there was something primal and unspoiled about them. Although, it is difficult to talk about integrity, remembering how her father simply gave them to her for entertainment. And this is, apparently, in the order of things.

They stood, not understanding what she wanted from them. They did not know Kargon, the language of the caravans that Lyonza spoke to their father. But that’s okay, a succubus just needs to get close to another creature, tune in to its wave. And then she will begin to understand their thoughts. Such spiritual closeness, albeit at the time of intercourse, liked Lyonza no less than sex itself. But first it was necessary to find an approach. The elves were wary. The father obviously explained to them why the guest needed them. But he himself was in some confusion, to say nothing of the children. Lyonza went up to the boy. He smelled of sweet sheep’s wool and spicy cheese. She glared at his lips with a kiss, the elf twitched his hands in the air in surprise, tried to push her away, like a mad fox.

It was not accepted here to kiss and somehow caress each other. Everything was simple and without prelude. Often they didn’t even take off their deels for intercourse. But Lyonza felt that her hot pressure makes his heart beat faster. But his sister still didn’t understand what was happening. Believing that evil spirits attacked her brother, she snatched a small dagger from the deel’s cut and directed it at the guest. Lionza took a step forward, the girl shouted something in her own language. But the agitated succubus was unstoppable. Lionza grabbed her hand and dug a kiss into her wrist. The elf screamed and unclenched her hand, the dagger fell to the floor.

“Why are you so, my dear?” Lyonza asked tenderly, “I do not wish evil...”

She, like a vampire, eagerly dug into the elf’s neck. She screamed, but weaker. The girl smelled of bitter herbs, wildflowers and sour milk. She breathed often, Lyonza put her hand under her deel, felt a sharp small chest with her palm. The elf moaned as Lyonza lightly squeezed her sharp nipple with her fingers. With her other hand, she pulled at the waist of her robe. He untied, Lyonza opened the deel, he fell at the feet of the elf. Her breasts were small and protruded in different directions. Strong powerful thighs, pubis densely overgrown with hair. Lyonza turned to the elf and in the same way removed his clothes. He, at first embarrassed by his sister’s nakedness, blushed. However, his phallus was already filling with strength. He was not yet able to rise up, but already pleasantly resilient.