Then one morning, she awoke and sat up. Her head still down and eyes closed, she sat there on the ground meditating—a hint of heat emanating from the campfire warming her and her pet.
She glanced at him. He was curled up, dozing. She smiled. Her faithful pup, her good pup,
she thought to herself, drifting back into meditation.
Her eyes popped open. A cold rush went through her. She looked at Cere. He was waking up, his tail starting a slow wag. He looked at his mistress and smiled a dog's smile.
One head—he had one head, not three.
Christiablo shot to her feet, her blanket falling. Cere jumped up in response, ready for her bidding—circling, panting, staring at his beloved—with one set of eyes, not three.
The lady firebrand called her companion over and petted him. She felt tears starting to swell up.
She wiped her eyes and realized something felt different. She put her hand to her head.
Her horns were gone.
She thought for a moment and all but slapped herself on the backside. Her tail—gone.
She stood there, stunned.
There was a slight sense of sadness—of loss. But still, she was overcome with joy.
She hugged Cere; she was now crying unabashedly.
After several minutes she looked up, a thought occurring to her. She stirred the small bit of fire that remained and added twigs and a few pieces of wood. She poured some water for Cere.
She stepped out into the clearing a few yards and gazed skyward.
"I am and remain a Hellspawn, do I not?" she asked herself. Even though she knew she had changed profoundly, she wondered...
She raised her hands up above her head. A fierce arc of tremendous energy crackled sharply through the morning air—now positive, even stronger than before.
Christi smiled. True power remains.
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Christiablo™ Running From The Devil © 2012 G.A.M.
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