“Really now? A succubus, you say?” 

 

Saronir stretched as far as his restraints allowed. He did not like the far too cramped ice cave he had found himself contained within. Even though he was cold-blooded, he still hated the deserts of Merreign, so Svetania was chosen as a comparable alternative. 

 

“Correct.” Even after seeing her nearly everyday for a month, his visitor was a strange sort. Whether or not everyone in this age acted with such distance was lost on him, but was a trait he had figured his way around. “Although the one tied to her is far more interesting. Simultaneously a witch and a Sage known as ‘The Archivist’.”

 

“‘The Archivist’? A fellow Sage? What in particular does she archive?” He had once read a thing or two about witches, creations of the new era. At first, he was unsure how the pact with the devils would stand to benefit those extra-dimensional creatures, but after a bit of thought, it all made sense. “And her patron allows this? Aren’t they usually strict about this sort of thing?”

 

In an uncharacteristic move, his guest simply shrugged, her expression still as stony as ever, “Who’s to say? I have yet to make contact with one of them myself.”

 

He had instinctively rolled his eyes, thankfully such a gesture appeared to go unnoticed. They probably avoid such a strange creature, even for human standards. “So, tell me more about this succubus, I still fail to imagine how such a strange creature made it to the stage of sentience let alone a mastery of magic.”

 

“That’s where the witch comes in.” The one he simply knew as ‘The Almighty’ seemed to actually perk up at such a topic, something that almost took him aback, “By fusing the soul of a man into a larval succubus, The Archivist managed to form a new being this world had never seen before.

 

It did not take much to win the attention of Saronir, having spent all of his time imprisoned, but this would have even caught the attention of his young hellion self, “You’re telling me no one had ever transferred souls between species before?”

 

The Almighty shrugged once again, her expression returning to the steely blue eyed unblinking gaze he had grown used to, “You tell me, dragon.”

 

Leaning back as much as he could, years of the open skies, warm sun and harrowing challenges obfuscated his already cloudy memories. It was strange how age seemed to ceaselessly destroy yet give very little in return. However, one rumor returned to him. Turning it over and over, it seemed to be apt to the conversation at hand, “I can only recall one account of it possibly happening.”

 

“Possibly?”

 

Saronir nodded, “The old Almighty claimed to have done it before. No one believed him until his work began to speak for itself.”

 

The one who bore the Sage’s name before him smiled. A chilling smile, one that looking back, he would curse then and there.

 

“The one everyone began to call ‘The God Emperor’.”

“Where were you?” Ashara nearly shouted, sitting outside the hiding spot, “That break must have taken ages! What were you doing?”

 

Sara sighed, her head still spinning from her latest meal, “Quiet down! I was getting mana for the upcoming fight…” She still felt sensitive to the touch, her clothes long forgotten in the dragon man’s room, now with two dried up corpses alongside. 

 

“So are you gonna share, or-”

 

The succubus clasped her hand around the vociferous witch’s mouth. Despite the tiny woman’s protests, it appeared whatever passed did not notice their hiding spot. “We’ll talk about that later.”

 

“Well, shall we go in swingin’ then?” Having broken free of her former familiar’s grip, The Archivist spun around in what little space they had, presumably tired of sitting still for the past few hours. 

 

Decades of combat experience screamed in protest to the very suggestion. Sara sighed, her arms still tired, “Don’t we have a better way to approach? There are legions of creatures between us and her, not to mention we’re on her grounds.”

 

“Hmmm…” Ashara tapered down, placing a placative finger to her mouth, “Well, we could just turn invisible and sneak in…”

 

Still not used to the burned hand she had recently acquired, Sara used her now dominant hand to pinch the bridge of her nose, “You’re saying we could have done that from the start?” She tried her best not to let her blood boil too much.

 

“Well, yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” 

 

“Okay. Yeah. Fine.” Turning to the shelter, Sara poked her head in, “Ready to go, Bellamy?” 

 

An amorphous blob quivered slightly upon hearing her name. Shifting ever so slightly back to her humanoid form, she actually appeared to be still drowsy, “Oh, good, you are back… I was quite anxious that you were captured…”

 

“Not yet, but I might just walk out of here at any moment.” 

 

With the team reconvened and rested, the Sage placed her hand on her two monstrous companions, “Ready to kick Eldura’s butt?”

 

“Anything to get out of here.”

The complex was ancient.

 

General Proudmane had slain many cultures, each in their own ancestral home, but Alzahett was a relatively new frontier. Any semblance of civilization before the ascension of the God Emperor was promptly wiped out and eliminated, leading those with similar ambitions to do much of the same to the loser.

 

Stone. Stone faces were carved, dwarven in appearance, their horns mighty and proud. Reliefs of stories decorated the halls, even those that serve little purpose. With this chamber in particular being so far underground, the elements had not yet had the chance to wipe this history, allowing it to live on and tell their stories to uninterested monsters that only served their master. 

 

Stone. With enough time, effort and prior knowledge scholars could perhaps learn all there was to know about the entire history of the second oldest race all spread out before them etched in stone. A peephole into a world long forgotten where the goddess roamed the lands, where the very civilizations they resided in served as an echo of these ages long past. 

 

Stone. Hundreds of hands of stone. The very building of such a complex presumably before the modern understanding of magic would be an undertaking that would take even multiple elven lifespans, let alone dwarven. Their footfalls fell silent as the three moved quietly, yet briskly, towards any semblance of where the opposing witch laid. 

 

“Are you sure she’s still even here?” Sara asked, her feet feeling the now week spent walking. Outside, the dirt was softer than the subterranean rock carved into flooring. “She could have just left or maybe-”

 

“No.” Ashara’s expression solidified. Ever since they settled upon this path to follow, she grew quieter and quieter, “She’s still here. And I want to settle the score, finally.”

 

A relief to hear. “Good. Half the reason I’m on board with killing this witch is to go home already.”

 

Pulling down her now weathered hat, a glimmer shone within The Archivist’s eyes. 

 

The hallway was long. The occasional sign of luxury- a faded painting, a collection of candles with a single one lit and an aberrant tapestry, each told a tale and a warning of their drawing closer to their current owner.

 

Onomantic monsters grew more and more scarce, an impending sign of the growing proximity to the central figure. Walking through the complex, the denizens were split between responsibilities, structure and station. Those capable of sentience were far more common within these inner reaches, careful in their approach through the halls.

 

“Is it not quite strange how they conduct their daily activities here?” Bellamy whispered.

 

The burned hand still confounded it’s new wielder, it was nearly the same as a functioning arm, just with slightly less sensation, “Hmm? I don’t really care.” Sara dismissed, barely tearing her attention away.

 

“I mean, do you not find it at least somewhat interesting that even while not naturally forming, an ecosystem of some sorts has formed in lieu of a natural order? I am curious as if there if the ‘witch’, as you call her, either deliberately selects which species is created in order to-” Ignorant of her compatriot’s lack of attention, Bellamy continued to prattle on during times where the halls appeared empty. 

 

“So…” The slime’s pace suddenly slowed down, drawing the attention of the succubus, “Wh-what does it feel like…?”

 

Sara tore her attention away from her long forgotten sense of ambidextrousness, “What?”

 

“To have- To have… sex?” The last part was squeaked out, Bellamy now trying to appear as small as possible.

 

She smiled, of course the alchemist who spent every waking moment thinking about anything but other people would still be a virgin, even across two lifetimes. “Nothing quite like it.” Sarakiel teased, slowing her words down and drawing them to a whisper, “The feeling of skin on skin… The way your mind just goes as you devote yourself to a nice and full release…” She felt herself moisten a bit, despite being full.

 

“And… what does it feel like-” Normally too verbose for her own good, Bellamy appeared to be quite reticent for a change,” inside…?”

 

The succubus’s smile widened, “Oh, to take a dick? I was just talking about fucking a woman!”

 

If the muddy slime could blush, it would be cherry red. Instead, she sputtered, frazzled by her intentions being laid bare, “I- I mean, yes…! I already knew about all that, but now that we’re…” She trailed off, hoping the implication would be wordlessly carried forth.

 

“Well…” Sara drew closer to the slime, sliding behind her fellow monster and wrapped her arms around her compatriot’s waist, “Imagine a nice long and thick finger…” To demonstrate, she slid a long finger between where the slime’s legs would be, “Pushing it’s way inside…”

 

Bellamy squealed slightly as the finger began to dig inside her.

 

“At first, it hurts, but eventually…” The succubus began to feel warm even when leaning against the cold slime, “You learn to love it…” Her pussy throbbed at her own words, the handful of times she had sex had already changed her mind about the male genitalia. She almost wanted a dick then and there.

 

Continuing to fluster, Bellamy kept her large hands away, looking down at the show that unfolded upon her body. She lacked the proper hardware to truly feel what the sex devil did to her, but that did not stop the imagery from exciting her as well. “R-really? I’ve always…” 

 

“You’ve always what?” Sara asked, her breath becoming ragged.

 

The alchemist continued to flounder about her words, “I’ve always wanted to try it…”

 

“Mmm…” A soft squelching noise echoed in the halls, as her finger pressed in and out of the slime, “How about we do it right now…?”

 

Before Bellamy could reply, a squeaky voice piped up, “What the heck are you two doing?”

 

The succubus stopped, having returned to the stone hallway they had long stopped traveling through.

 

“Miss Sarakiel was…!” Blobbing forward, the slime returned to her somewhat stable form, “She was showing me some… combat techniques!”

 

They could not see the witch, but could feel her eyebrow rising.

 

Clearing her throat, Sara stepped forward putting on a far more chipper tone, “How about we continue on?” 

 

With the passage narrowing, the amount of decor was nearly ubiquitous. A promenade of sorts, it appeared they were within a stone’s throw of where Eldura took her throne. 

 

“So what is the plan?” Sara asked, her stomach performing flips both from the act she was caught in and the proximity to the witch’s roost..

 

Turning around to face the group, Ashara shrugged, “We go in, hit her where it hurts and get out!”

 

“Well, do you at least know what this Eldura is capable of?” Bellamy spoke up, just as incredulous as the other monster in their troupe, “I am aware she is capable of onomancy, but is there anything else we need to take heed of?”

 

The tiny witch giggled, as if reveling in their confusion, “There is nothing to be worried about! You’ve got me and I’ve been planning this for quite some time…

 

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... And that's the last full chapter I got!

If you like my style of writing, then I got more here! 
https://www.scribblehub.com/series/827758/skies-of-marvellia/