Travelers & The Arch

The moon was really large, casting a muted silver glow over the Tortured Forest. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves, mingling with the faint sweetness of wildflowers that dared to poke through the underbrush. Oliver Fairchild and Lilith, sat side by side on a moss-covered log, their voices a soft melody in the stillness. They had decided to take a break from the walking.

“Did you know,” Lilith began trying to fill the silence, “that the Tortured Forest only truly comes alive under the Emerald Moon?” She leaned closer, her hair cascading over her shoulders like a silken waterfall. “That’s when the magic dances in the air, swirling like a living thing. But be careful! If you’re not paying attention, the Breach Between can shift unexpectedly.”

Oliver listened intently, captivated not just by her words but also by the way she animatedly gestured toward the darkened path ahead, her hands expressive. “Staying on the roads is safest,” she continued, her voice lowering conspiratorially. “Those paths are the lines that rarely change, and wandering off could lead to… well, who knows where?”

The young writer nodded his head and stood. “Let’s getting moving. The sooner we get this done for your Bone Lord, the better off I’ll be.”

They continued down the worn stone road and the undergrowth began to thin, revealing a sprawling expanse of plains that stretched toward distant mountains, their peaks shrouded in a hazy mist. The serene landscape was almost disarming, a stark contrast to the chaotic journey that had led him here. The sound of creaking wood and the rumble of wheels broke the tranquil air. A caravan of heavy wagons came into view, each adorned with colorful tapestries that fluttered like flags in the gentle breeze. Lilith’s expression brightened; Oliver’s curiosity was peaked. “Look! Those are the Travelers! We should speak with them.”

Oliver followed her gaze, intrigued by the sight. As they approached the leader, a tall figure with flowing hair that mirrored the colors of autumn leaves, Oliver felt a flutter of excitement.

Lilith offered the elder a gray, silvery coin—grave dust, as she explained. The elder’s face softened at the sight of the coin. “Ah, the familiar shine of dust,” he said, his voice resonating with a low, melodic tone. “What news do you seek from us, child?”

Lilith’s eyes sparkled. “We travel the Northern Road to the Arch. Have you any news from beyond it?”

The elder’s expression shifted, his brow furrowing slightly. “Past the Arch lies fomented rage and danger from ‘She who tears asunder.’” He paused; his gaze distant as if peering into the depths of the forest’s shadowy heart. “Everything up to The Spine has become malignant and dangerous.”

“The Spine?” Oliver interjected, his brow furrowing in confusion. “What is that?”

Lilith shook her head, glancing at him, but the elder merely offered a cryptic smile. “That knowledge is not for you, young one.” He turned to his wagons, his troop preparing to continue their journey. “I am Grimdark, bound for Rot Gut, then Vexmoore. Should you seek us again, look to the west.”

With that, they departed, the sound of jingling trinkets fading into the distance. Oliver felt a lingering unease settle in his stomach, the weight of Grimdark’s ominous words heavy on his mind. “Malignant and dangerous…” he murmured, glancing at Lilith, whose expression mirrored his uncertainty. Yet she quickly masked it with a cheerful smile.

As they continued along the road, the oppressive weight of the Tortured Forest faded and the air tasted of wild herbs. Oliver could hear the distant calls of birds, their songs haunting yet beautiful. Which was strange since the Breach Between seemd to be in a state of perpetual dusk. He took a deep breath, inhaling the rich scents of the earth, feeling a strange mix of exhilaration and apprehension.

Ahead loomed the giant stone bridge, its ancient pillars standing like sentinels against the horizon. The stones were weathered, their surfaces etched with deep grooves. Oliver marveled at the craftsmanship, feeling the weight of history in every stone.

Lilith halted a few paces before the bridge, her demeanor shifting from playful to serious. “I can’t go any further,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “The denizens of the Bone Lord’s domain may not cross the Arch or the Black Gate to the east without a letter of mark from the Bone Lord himself.”

“Why not?” Oliver asked, a frown creasing his brow. The sudden seriousness in her tone sent a shiver down his spine. “What happens if you try?”

She met his gaze, her eyes reflecting a mixture of determination and fear. “It’s complicated. The Bone Lord is… moody. He holds power over this land, and crossing without his permission could lead to dire consequences. I’ve been in enough trouble with him and I don’t want to be sent back to Scarlet Ascent.”

Oliver felt a pang of disappointment at her words, the thrill of their journey now tinged with uncertainty. “Thank you for everything, Lilith,” he said, trying to project confidence he didn’t feel. “I’ll come back. I promise.”

She looked at him, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “I… hope…want you to. You’re my trophy after all and I must keep you,” she replied, but the doubt was palpable between them, hanging in the air like an unspoken farewell. With a deep breath, Oliver stepped onto the bridge, the cool stone underfoot steadying his nerves.

“Hey!” Lilith called after him, her voice piercing through the moment. He turned to find her grinning, mischief dancing in her eyes.

Lilith pulled down her overall top, exposing her beautiful breasts, her skin soft and pale against the backdrop, the curves of them and the peaks inviting. “For courage!” she declared, her voice a mixture of playfulness and seriousness.

Oliver’s cheeks flushed. What else did he expect from a succubus? His mind raced, caught between embarrassment and an unexpected thrill. It was a bizarre, intimate moment that left him momentarily speechless, a strange blend of innocence and raw allure.

But before he could fully process the moment, Lilith tripped, falling onto her butt with a soft thud that broke the tension. He burst into laughter, the sound echoing across the bridge. “You’re unbelievable!” he exclaimed, shaking his head as he walked back toward her.

Lilith pouted, brushing dirt from her backside as she laughed along with him. “Hey, I was trying to be brave! You can’t blame a girl for trying!”

Taking one last look at the monster girl struggling to pull her top back up, he realized that he did have a friend.

He wanted to come back to her.