Becoming the Witch’s Familiar

The guard captain stood, mouth agape, barely visible through his thick beard. The most powerful monster hunters and his own guard stood between this creature and his detainee. “What- what are you…?”

“So did you find where Eldura’s hiding out?” The nude female creature ignored the captain and his three remaining guards entirely, focusing her attention on the witch. Her breasts hung freely, comparable to a dwarven woman’s.

“Wha-” One of the few remaining men had the gall to ask, “What are you doing here? Where are the others?”

With a devious smirk, the succubus leaned against the doorframe, finally noticing the men in the room, “They might be strong individually, but when you combine men who fight alone with only a few guard forces, there’s no hope against an unknown threat.”

Tracing her lips, the dark skinned woman ran a forefinger over them before winking at another of the remaining men. He froze up, clutching his weapon.

As the succubus left the room, the man looked at the guard captain for affirmation to pursue. Receiving a curt nod, the witch hunter left, turning the corner.

Within a second, steel rang against steel followed by a brief shout before being cut down. A trap laid in wait for those that pursued the woman.

“Erick?” The guard captain called after the man.

The call was only answered by the succubus turning the corner back into the room. Her face maintained the whimsical look of a woman of the night searching for some fun, but behind her gaze was a chilling sensation that sent shivers up the professional’s spine, “Erick didn’t want to play like the rest of them, but it’s fine… We will be taking that witch now.”

Beginning to stand with no restraints, the guard captain had to push the tiny woman back into her chair holding her down with his large hand, “What did you do with them?” He asked, almost shouting. Incredulation overtook him as men, men who trained, hunted and killed such creatures were nowhere to be found. At the very least, they stood over the frail woman creature.

Walking further into the room, each step moving her hips, she smirked.

Finding the strength under his feet, the second-to-last man charged at the monster, sword in hand. He lunged at the devil, sword overhead as he swung it down.

And met the steel of the vice-captain of the Altenheim guards.

The two men buckled, as they pressed weapon against weapon, their grunts filling the small room.

“Frederick?” The captain asked, innocently questioning his next-in-line. The man clearly had no ties to the witch, he was just in the room with them! But now, a daze covered his eyes, as if the man was…

“Charmed.” The captain recognized as the fear left his hands. “You charmed my men, drawing them out of the anti-magic chamber with the fire.”

A wide smirk, now no longer sultry, stretched across the creature’s face. This was the look of a true monster. “You caught on well, captain.” The creature continued to stride toward the man holding down the witch, “With everyone on high alert, all precautions were there, but you all were just too jumpy. Taking advantage of your enemy’s confusion is war mongering basics.”

“Your magicks won’t work here, monster.” The guard captain held his brave face, now confident we could overpower the creature who looked to free the captive.

Sarakiel chuckled. “Of course they won’t, captain…” With a flash of purple, her eyes glimmered. As if on cue, the remaining four men who left the room flew in, arms at the ready. Frederick, who still locked steel in with another guard, became free as two inquisitors swooped in to kill his opponent, leaving only the guard captain and one other hunter. “But who needs magicks when you have muscle?”

The captain relented.

He knew when he had lost. “What is it you want?” He asked, more in confusion than resignation.

“Just the witch,” Sara smiled, the wide-eyed captive gazing upon her, “As well as any information on another that may be nearby. If anything, you should be thanking us for trying to remove her.”

Grumbling, the guard captain released his grip on the tiny woman. With a start, she leapt out of her chair and into the bare bosom of her rescuer.

“We don’t have much.” He mumbled, “Only that she is vaguely within an abandoned temple within the jungle, one of the Archaic’s. She may have been there for a while, but only recently has become active.”

“I was almost afraid you were one of her’s.”

Sara shook her head, her white hair still sticky from the sweat of both before and during the heist. “Never. That witch might have a hold on me, but I would never work for such a deplorable whore.” The almost-elven-almost-dwarven creature held the witch tighter, “Do you have any information on what she can do?”

The man shook his head, “Not sure. But it allows her to control and alter beasts in the area.”

“Onomancy.” The tiny witch finally chirped up, “Eldura is a master of onomancy.”

Sara’s headache stung once again, not from the sheer amount of mana spent on this plan, but upon hearing that branch of magicks appear once more. It found her way more and more frequently in her life.

Nodding to himself, the guard captain stroked his beard, “That would make sense. I’ve read a report of two on such a craft.”

The jailer and his detainee both nodded, leading Sara to feel as if she was out of the loop somehow. All three knew the witch had the power over true names, but the two almost shared a kinship with this knowledge. “Then do you have someone who could assist us in tracking her?” The succubus asked.

“I did,” The captain started before looking to the doorway out of the room, “But then you killed him.”

“Oh.” Sara swore to herself. “Well then, permit us access to leave and we’ll be on our way. We’ll find her ourselves.”

With a somber wave, the guard captain nodded.

Ashara, taking the succubus’s only hand, led Sara to the observation room before vanishing into a puff of smoke. Upon their exit, the seven men charmed by the creature regained the pallor in their faces, questioning what had just occurred.

The guard captain stood in the interrogation room, reflecting on the events that unfolded before him as well. Feeling like he had just come out of questioning himself, he relieved the men of their duties, some of which were downtrodden.

He had seen many witches in his day and even those that held vendetta against each other, but that small woman was something else entirely. Never have they asked humans for help. In addition to their arms, she demanded answers from him. She offered no harm to the citizens, instead asking for something that only a select few would know. Not the upper elite, but only those studied in history would even be interested in.

Something neither human nor devil.

- - - -

“Sare-bear!” The witch cried, clutching onto the succubus’s voluptuous form, her face buried within her caramel-toned tits. “You do love me! You are my friend!” She placed emphasis on every other word between sobs.

Growing flushed, Sarakiel used her only hand to pry away the tiny woman from between her breasts, “Ah, shut up you damned whore!” Freeing herself from the witch’s grasp only gave a second of freedom before she latched on again, “I just wanted to see why you got yourself locked up in the first place!”

After five attempts, the succubus finally let it happen, enjoying the skinship, “Did you even find any information on Eldura?” She asked, now stroking the witch’s black hair.

They found themselves on the trail leading up to the cavern that held Altenheim once more. The sun was now high above, unobscured by a single cloud. A clearing around them, the base of the mountain was now almost buzzing with life beneath.

Ashara tried to speak, but was coming out too muffled to comprehend.

“What was that, you bitch?” Sara hissed, pulling the witch out by her hair, finally freeing her from her warm clutch.

The tiny woman’s face was nearly as red as the circles on her cheeks, her eyes swollen from the tears, “I said I shouldn’t have given you such huge tits…”

“Hey! It was these huge tits that got you out of jail!” The succubus grew flustered, thinking of everything it took to spring the witch out. With such actions now coming naturally to her, she genuinely has changed.

“Succubus Sarakiel?” A voice asked, the familiar tone being one she did not expect to hear from so soon.

Sara sighed, turning away from her former master, “What is it Eternal? Did you get the slime out?”

“I did, but…” His voice tapered off, the shock in his voice was entirely new to her, “It… It wants to speak to you.”

Her eyes grew wide. Turning to Ashara, Sara grimmaced, “Do slimes talk?”

The tiny witch shrugged, “I mean, sure? It’d make sense if they did.”

Shooting a glance of angry confusion to the witch, Sara looked off into the distance, “Sure, send it back over.”

A portal opened up before the both of them, the interior of Proudmane Manor’s dining room appearing on the other side. Before long, a semi-opaque white blob hopped over onto the dirt. The sphere still floating within, two small bulbs protruded from the surface of the now oblong glob of cum and, apparently, sentience.

“Are you the one who freed me?” The creature asked, no mouth apparent, it’s voice like a high pitched squeak. Standing up only midway to her calf, the monster seemed to hold itself with some sort of aplomb.

Glancing back once more to the witch, Sara cleared her throat, still sore from the day, “I am. Who are you?”

A far cry from the mindless being it was before, it made a slight bowing motion, it’s body completely pliable being loosely made of liquid, “My name is Belamy Memphilius, naught but a humble alchemist.”