Decadence and Depravity

It always happened. At the height of the most delicate spellcasting, someone always had to come and interrupt the proceedings. As the knock at the door sounded again, the sound carried into the matrix of the magic Biara was working on; work that required absolute silence. She watched in irritation as the disruptive sound waves caused the magic to pulse in the wrong place, the fabric of the spell unweaving before her eyes. Hours of work turned into a swirling mass of inconsistent energy. She muttered a warding spell as the spell explosively detonated, turning her workbench into smoldering ruin.

The knock came again.

"WHAT?!" She snarled at the door.

Slowly it opened and a servant girl appeared, a bouquet of flowers in hand with a diamond centered on the display, held in place by a ribbon. She walked into the room and Biara eyed her curiously. "Those are for me?"

The servant girl nodded, her fel green eyes glassy and her voice slurred, "Y-yes m-my Lady, they were just delivered."

Biara's eyebrows rose as she studied the servant. She walked closer, pacing around the girl, studying her from every angle. The Sin'dorei was clearly under some spell effect. Beyond the slurred speech and look on her face, her body shuddered slightly now and then.

"And who are they from?" She asked, wondering who would send her flowers, and what had happened to the servant.

"A-ambassador S-starflare my Lady," came the slow reply.

Starflare. So he was still playing his little games, thinking to coerce her, or perhaps now woo her into complying with whatever inane request he had. How  persistent.

Biara's eyes roamed over the servant. She appeared to be slipping further into whatever spell the Ambassador had placed on the flowers, and by the looks of it she was not having an unpleasant time from the effects. The Magistrix reached out and gently took one of the flowers from the girl's hands, holding it near the other Sin'dorei.

"Did you, perchance, smell these flowers or in any way handle them beyond the stems?" Biara purred. She held the rose near the others' face.

"Y-yes my Lady," the servant replied. As the rose drew nearer, she inhaled almost involuntarily. Her eyes rolled up into her head and she collapsed, clearly gone in some euphoric state brought on by the Ambassador's spell. Biara studied her catatonic form for a moment, her mind lost in thought.

"Interesting Ambassador. So now instead of slaying my servants, you wish to shower me with lovely gifts hmmm?" she said aloud. The servant was far beyond the ability to hear, and Biara reached down, carefully moving the girl so that she was no longer in danger of the smoldering embers from the damaged workbench.

"I wonder, Ambassador, if you know just how pleasant your gift could be for one such as myself," she murmured. It was unsual for anyone to send her flowers. In fact, she could count on one hand how often it had occurred. To have someone send her magical gifts was rarer still, with only the Archmage Wyrmcurse giving her a truly magical gift. The Ambassador either didn't know her well enough to understand how much she'd enjoy such a gift, or he was simply overdoing it, thinking he was going to court a silly noble girl that he could then influence.

She looked down at the bouquet of flowers and smiled. "Might as well not allow this to go to waste..."

Biara gathered up the flowers from the unconscious servant and carried them into one of her private rooms, careful not to touch the petals or inhale the scent of the magically altered plants. She could sense the enchantment even through her fingertips, the magic close at hand.

Magic. It all came down to magic in the end after all.

Locking the door behind her, Biara settled herself onto a plush couch, muttering ward spells to keep others out of the chamber while she worked. Satisfied that she would be truly uninterrupted (her disruptive servant was unconscious in another room after all!) she brought the flowers up and inhaled, taking in the magic that the Ambassador had sent her.

The wards on Biara's face crackled as they defended her mind from a spell that would alter it. The burning sensation of her wards at work, as well as the feeling of the Ambassador's spell attempting to flow into her was a thrill that she rarely was able to partake in. As his spell settled over her, she was able to maintain her focus only from years of endless practice and iron discipline within her own mind. It was time for the best treat, beyond what the Ambassador had wanted her to experience. She closed her eyes and reached out, connecting with the magic in the bouquet and drawing it in, feeding on it.

Bliss. There was no other word to describe the feeling of feeding her thirst, especially with a spell meant to create euphoria. No other sensation, no other emotion would ever compare to how the Magistrix felt each time she consumed or practiced magic. For a brief moment in time, the world itself was perfection, and nothing else mattered.

It would be many hours later that Biara would emerge from her private quarters in her summer home. Her eyes sparkled with magic, an aftereffect of her feeding and the addiction that would forever mark her. A Thirst that she carefully balanced every waking moment of her life, ever since the destruction of the Sunwell and the first time she fed on Fel magic.

Soon after she emerged, a thank you letter was sent off to Ambassador Starflare, along with an acceptance of his invitation to meet at the time and place of his choosing.