Becoming the Witch’s Familiar

“Is everything alright, witch? You’re looking a bit pale.”

Looking over her shoulder, she could see Ashara trailing behind the now two monsters that formed their troupe. Her glares thankfully have shifted from the succubus, now finding refuge in the self-proclaimed alchemist. But with the sun beginning to set after the day they had, Sara figured that it would be even more trouble if she asked the wrong question.

Having emerged from a temporary shelter from the sudden rainstorm at Bellamy’s request, the humidity quickly became unbearable, sticking what dwindling amount of clothes Sara had to her already warm body.

With the clouds rolling out to unveil a golden sky, the slime ahead stopped hopping before turning around, the small nubs lifting from the surface of it’s shape to indicate a face, “Would you like to take a rest? We have little indication of the witch’s true location, less of what to actually expect.”

“I’m fine.” A bite appeared in the witch’s voice.

“Well, if I may weigh in, I’d actually prefer to settle in for the night as I carry a few questions I wish answered, if that’s alright.”

Shifting her gaze between the two, Sara spoke up, “The snot’s right, let’s find a spot to rest and recoup.”

“I don’t appreciate the nickname, miss…” the slime appeared to deflate, something that would be quite charming if it did not have the diction of a language professor.

Returning to the shelter, the goopy white mass hopped over to Sara, “Pardon my forwardness Miss Sarakiel, but when prompting your friend for her name, I was only greeted with sneers and angry glares. Would you mind telling me what she prefers to be known as?”

“The witch? I usually call her that or the Archivist, when she’s not being a brat.” Sara took a snapshot of Ashara as well, curious as to what brought this pissy attitude about this time, “Don’t mind her though, she has her mood swings. Probably still going through puberty after all this time…”

With a glance towards the witch examining the location they have decided to settle in further, Bellamy returned back to Sara, “I am aware of your attempt at comedy, but please forgive me, why do you keep referring to her as ‘the witch’? What exactly is a witch?”

Sara’s eyebrow shot up immediately.

“You’re pulling my leg here. I get you were born literally today, but you can’t be serious.” Sara rubbed the back of her neck, unsure of the creature even more than she already was.

“Apologies, but I rarely jest, miss.” The slime creature’s face twisted into a question mark, a strange figure to see on a living being, “Neither you all nor your strange dark friend on the other side of the portal have reacted when I refer to myself as an alchemist, either. And considering my current condition, none have regarded me with the esteem I expected either…”

Dropping down to a cross-legged sitting position, Sara examined the talking blob further. She had not seen any slimes before, their entire existence more of a rumor than anything else. The body of the creature was heavily viscous, it’s body cool to the touch and surprisingly not as adhesive as one would expect, at least when not in contact with water. Surface tension held the creature together, leading it to be closer to a bladder filled with water than a goopy mess. The sphere she got from the witch they were currently hunting floated inside the milky white mass, appearing as it did before, gilded with elaborate filigree.

“How about we trade information, then? You tell me what an alchemist is and I’ll tell you about witches.”

Bellamy inflated upon hearing that, “Very good! I always look for an excuse to boast about my discoveries!”

Rolling her eyes, Sara set in. Best to pass the time learning something new rather than feel the slight pang of hunger after her spell spree freeing the witch.

“So…” The slime trailed off, figuring a good place to start, “How much do you know about mana?”

“Enough.” The succubus had learned quite a bit in such a short time, but once theory was requested, she fell short, “I know you feed off of it like I do.”

With a nod, Bellamy continued, “Correct, a kindred spirit and all that. Just a brief overview then, mana is the building blocks of everything. Atomic particulates with strictly defined specific electrical charges that correlate to the various ‘elements’ as they are classically known, and while trained individuals may be able to-”

“Hold on, slow down there.” Sara held up her hand, “You’ve lost me a while back there. Atomic? Electrical?”

The slime signed in slight frustration, “It appears there is a larger gap in magical application than anticipated… How about you answer my question first then, since it should be in shorter order?”

“Well, witches…” Sara glanced at Ashara starting a fire with a spell, “Witches are…” She trailed off, unsure where to start herself. “How in the twelve hells have you never heard of witches? You’re some sort of expert on mana and yet you’ve never heard all the stories growing up?”

Bellamy shrugged. She was not sure if the small slime had shoulders, but it acted like it did, “Perhaps those are regional tales? Urban legends of sorts? Are they magical practitioners or something to that effect?”

“Seriously, you’ve got no-”

“Sare-bear?” Ashara spoke up from beside the roaring fire, interrupting their conversation, “Can you come here real quick?”

Getting to her feet, the succubus looked down at her monstrous compatriot one last time incredulously before striding over to the tiny witch. “Yeah, what is it?”

Ashara motioned her in before bringing her former familiar closer, “I wouldn’t trust that little cum bubble… Remember where you got it from?”

The moonlit desert prison cell flashed in her mind. Remembering the witch’s distinct overbite and dispelling of her crest is why she found herself in this humid hellhole in the first place. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying…” The small girl looked past the much larger woman to the blob appearing to look around at it’s surroundings, “I’m saying that it may be Eldura’s familiar. Or some kind of monster she is gathering intel from us with.”

Sara looked at Ashara. She glared at the slime from their post, a complex negative feeling lingering in her gaze. Something about what the witch was saying seemed… off.

“I’ll take your request into consideration, Archivist. Don’t forget who saved you today.” Turning away from the fire, Sara opted to stay out of any arguments. Years of marriage also taught her not to press a problem more than what was needed, instead leading her away from camp to find something edible.

Once she was a sizable distance away, she made a simple motion in the air, “Bellamy, was it? Do you know anyone by the name Eldura?”

It took a minute for the slime to respond, it’s high-pitched voice girdled by static, “Sarakiel? Is that you? How are you able to do such a thing?”

“Never mind that. Answer the question.” Sara’s stomach churned with the familiar casting of the spell.

Another moment passed, “I do not believe I have had the opportunity to meet anyone by that name… I’m still ascertaining my memory, but it’s not a distinct name to myself. Is it that Superior’s name?”

“Superior?” Sara asked. Another term she had never heard of from the strange inclusion to their team.

“Why, yes.” Bellamy’s voice was fuzzy, but certainly comprehensible, “That woman we travel with bears the markings of a fellow.”

- - - -

Strange sounds reverberated through the tall trees.

During the day the flora was lively and green, a lush carpet that impeded any visibility, but paled in comparison to the dense blanket dyed black with the night. Even simple comforts like the moon and stars were obstructed by the greedy foliage above, resting before another day of competition. All around was a nebulous void out of which emanated only sound and paranoia. Occasionally an even more unwelcome sight of glowing yellow and red eyes pierced the veil, deciding whether or not the small girl, the one armed meaty woman and the white blob were easy enough prey.

“I fucking hate being watched…” Sara was unsure whether or not to put out the fire. When it came to human opposition, a fire is a signal for miles around of one’s location, but against beasts the light was a soft wall around them. “We really could’ve used that fucking hunter.”

Ashara appeared nonplussed. Still eyeing the slime, she contentedly sat by the fire. The smell of burning fruit was unbearable as the black smoke emanating from the burning flesh was somehow even darker than the night it wafted into.

“Pull that shit out of the fire!” The succubus sat on the edge of the encampment, her back facing the dense forest using her tail’s eyes. Unable to tear up or even blink, the smoke was stinging the sensitive oculi.

The tiny witch paid no mind as she turned the fruit over to a fresh side, “Come on Sare-bear, I know a thing or two about monsters. Have you stopped to think that the stench might be a deterrent for creatures like you?”

Whatever it was, it worked.

Bellamy laid deflated against their lean-to, a bundle of upright sticks, safely out of the way of the numerous rainstorms they expected that night. Even though it appeared it did not have a brain, it certainly used and exhausted it.

Thoughts of using the shapechange spell to no longer be a creature flashed in Sara’s mind, but between the slowly growing pangs in her stomach and desire to preserve what mana she had for the confrontation with Eldura, she elected to suffer instead.

“Hey. Witch.” Confirming the slime was still asleep, Sara continued, “Ashara. Do you have a way for me to get my fucking hand back? I’ve spent longer without it than with it.”

Finally tearing herself away from her ad hoc science experiment, Ashara waved nonchalantly, “I was wondering when you were gonna ask! I’ve got something back at the hut for you.”

“Can’t we just go there now?”

A look of patronization adorned the witch’s visage, “Do you know where we are? If we leave and then try to come back, we’ll be lost again on the continent. At least we know we’re generally in the right direction here!”

“Doesn’t that seem… Like it would hold me back? I can’t really do the hand part of a spell, if I only have one.” Magic played a greater role in this life than the one prior, meaning she needed every tool available.

The witch continued her smug look, chuckling a little, “You’re telling me you actually know some serious magic? Did that dweeb actually do a good job?”

“Yeah?” Sara asked, “Did you think he wouldn’t actually teach me something?”

With a shrug, Ashara returned to the burnt fruit, tossing it aside before throwing another into the fire. “I mean, the loser did it for next to nothing, only wanting my full name.”

The succubus pinched the bridge of her nose for what felt like the thirtieth time on this trip, “First you say it isn’t important, then it is and now it isn’t again?! Which is it, bitch?”

“Oh, you fancy yourself a spell caster now?” The witch snickered, “I do love to see you frustrated, Sare-bear..Reminds me of our early days…”

“Oh, fuck you, you little cu-”

A low growl cut through the air, much closer than any noise before. Quickly swapping to her main body, she saw it, plain as day: a direwolf, much like the one that took her arm, but standing upright.

With every breath, it’s muscles heaved.

Unlike those she ran into before on Alzahett, there was no look of intelligence behind this creature’s eyes.

Only bloodlust.