Witch of Fear [Mild horror, Isekai High Fantasy]

Autumn’s maiden heart beat thunderously in her chest as Nethlia tossed her gently down onto a heaping pile of fur blankets within the demoness’ cozy tent. The witch’s face burned scarlet from being paraded through the empty camp like a marauder’s prize. She glared up piteously at the towering berserker as she lay sprawled naked on her bed, dark locks splayed around her like a black halo.

Tossing their things off to the side, Nethlia grinned predatorily down at Autumn.

The witch’s heart beat ever faster. 

Hurriedly, she tossed her hat aside. She needed its protection not in this arena of combat. 

A fervent heat filled the air, pouring off the pair’s streaming, naked bodies as they joined in an amorous embrace. The weight of Nethlia’s firm body pressed Autumn into the soft furs. 

It felt like fire where their skin touched.

Autumn squirmed beneath Nethlia’s slick muscles as the demoness caught her wrists, pinning them above her head with one mighty, calloused hand. She let out a surprised gasp as Nethlia’s other hand explored her snowy body. Lightning erupted across her chest as Nethlia roughly palmed her breast, rolling her stiff peak between her rugged fingers.

A searing kiss soon robbed the breath from Autumn’s lungs.

She moaned into the kiss as Nethlia’s knee found its way to her sweltering core, spreading her legs around a muscular red thigh, slickening it with her excitement.

A tingling warmth built within her stomach, startlingly fast. Electricity raced up her arching spine at every touch and taste.

She wanted more.

Nethlia’s scorching tongue twinned with her own, wrestling it into submission. Arousal filled Autumn’s mind as she lay pinned beneath the berserker’s overwhelming strength, finding comfort in how the thick muscles crushed her. It was only when Autumn grew dangerously light-headed did the amorous lovers part.

Dreamily, Autumn panted as she stared up into Nethlia’s ardent, glowing gaze. She sucked in another gasp as Nethlia dipped low, spreading a line of fiery kisses down her swan-like neck, leaving behind dark marks of her conquest. Her collarbone too fell prey to the demoness’ desires.

The scent of sex, sweat, and excitement filled Autumn's senses.

A soundless gasp escaped her as Nethlia kissed her way down her chest, capturing one of her stiff, pink peaks gently between her teeth. The other she rolled between calloused fingers.

More, she cried soundlessly, heat bloomed within her. 

Autumn didn’t know when Nethlia had bound her wrists together with silken cloth, but she became intimately aware as the demoness’ other hand found its way to her flower, fingers gliding through her slick petals.

No longer could Autumn contain her cries.

Nethlia kissed the pale witch’s brow, right upon her fresh scar. “That’s it,” she crooned encouragingly into Autumn’s ear, matching the pace of her fingertips. “Let me hear your beautiful voice.”

“Nethlia. I…” Autumn moaned out through gasps.

“Don’t hold back,” Nethlia ordered, slowly driving a finger into the witch. “Tell me what you want. What you need.”

Autumn cried out.

“F-faster! Please! I need you!”

Grinning, Nethlia picked up her pace, driving the snowy witch to the very edge of reason. The pleasure almost overwhelmed Autumn. Still, somehow she held on, drawing back from that wonderfully enticing edge. 

She’d not go down without a fight.

Seeing her witch shaking on the precipice of eruption, Nethlia teased her further, tugging and biting harder on her straining peaks.

Through sheer force of will, Autumn clung desperately onto her sanity.

That was until a rough thumb found its way to her flower’s bud, grinding an electric thrum through her body.

Autumn’s back arched almost fully over as she came undone.

Nethlia’s hands supported her shuddering form, holding her back aloft. So consumed by pleasure, Autumn barely felt anything else as the statuesque demoness tilted her back, gently guiding her head to rest on the soft blankets while she draped the witch’s boneless legs over her muscular shoulders, her horned head resting between Autumn’s slick thighs. 

Autumn stared up at the demoness resting on her knees, staring hungrily at Autumn’s flushed sex.

Autumn gulped. One part frightened. Another excited.

Another soundless, desperate gasp escaped her as a molten tongue traced her folds, tasting her flower’s nectar. The skillful adventurer’s tongue explored her as if she’d found a fabled land of myth and legend. 

“Nethlia,” the witch cried out as she grasped the demoness’ horns. Not to stop her, but to drive her deeper into her untamed lands. 

Nethlia grunted at the encouragement and willingly entered the glistening cave before her, searching for the wondrous treasure just waiting to be teased free. 

Under the berserker’s tender ministrations, a second wave crested quickly upon Autumn and she filled the questing demoness’ mouth with her love.

“Nethlia!” Autumn screamed. 

Even if she wanted to stop — not that she did — Nethlia could not as Autumn pulled her deeper in by the horns. 

Three. Four. Five times did she tend to the pale, dark-haired witch’s garden. 

Five times did she plunder its wealth. 

Stamina flagging after the sixth wave, a sweat-soaked Autumn crashed back into Nethlia’s soft furs, letting go of the red thigh she’d been holding onto as she pressed her pink core into the berserker’s molten one. 

She was completely and utterly spent. 

Exhausted. 

Untwining herself from Autumn’s quivering legs, a contented Nethlia finally unbound the fatigued witch’s wrists and pulled her into a tight hug, spooning her from behind. 

Autumn sighed happily as she snuggled into Nethlia’s strong arms, luxuriating in the warmth of the fiery body enveloping her. Slowly, her racing heart quieted. Her breathing evened out. 

Behind her, Nethlia pressed her nose to Autumn’s disheveled raven locks, breathing deeply in her scent. 

“Hmmm, I love how you smell,” she whispered. 

“I stink,” Autumn croaked out as she wrinkled her nose, her voice raw from screaming Nethlia’s name. 

“I know, and I love it.”

Rolling her eyes, even as she flushed, Autumn laughed. Her lungs burning at the action. “I’m all sweaty. And we just had a bath too. What a waste that was.”

“Hmmm,” Nethlia disagreed. “Well there is something nice to be said about workout sweat, I prefer to be the one to make it. We’ll just have to have another later.” The demoness’ hands played along the witch’s curves, massaging her pulled muscles. Notably, she didn’t clarify whether she meant a bath or a ‘workout.’ “Maybe we should invite Eme this time. I’m sure she’s upset about missing out on these,” she said, cupping Autumn’s breasts.

Autumn hissed as Nethlia’s fingers brushed over the bite marks she’d left upon her oversensitive skin. 

She swatted Nethlia’s hands away. “Stop that! It’s all your fault anyway.”

Nethlia grinned at the accusation, hugging Autumn tighter, causing her to squeak. “Guilty,” she confessed shamelessly. “But it was worth it to hear you crying my name.”

“I didn’t cry!” 

“Oh, my mistake. You were screaming my name. I’m sure you woke up Eme with that caterwauling. Wait, is that offensive to say?”

Autumn pouted, snuggling back further into Nethlia’s body in protest. Chuckling, the demoness held her as they drifted into a blissful, satisfied silence. The blazing warmth heating up her back lulled Autumn into a dreamy rest. Her body ached for another entirely different and far more pleasurable reason. 

For a long, cozy moment, they simply basked in the afterglow of euphoria. 

Half-asleep, Autumn felt Nethlia moving to press her lips to her ear. “Hey, I just wanted to say thank you for confiding in me earlier. Sorry for not saying it sooner. Or for saying it in a different way, I guess. I know it can’t have been easy.”

Autumn squirmed at the ticklish sensation. 

“It was the right thing to do,” she murmured back. “For you and for me as well. I didn’t want to keep hiding this forever, and besides, I trust you. I—I love you,” Autumn blurted out. “You were there for me from the start. I don’t know when it started but I love you. You and Eme both.” 

Nethlia tilted Autumn’s head to face her and captured her lips, this time soft rather than passionate.

“I love you too,” Nethlia confessed. 

Autumn kissed her again. “And Eme?”

“Hmm, I’m not as close with her as she is with you, but she’s growing on me. She’s cute. Her taking care of you for the last few days certainly helped. How about you? Is it still strange for you? You said it wasn’t common to have multiple partners back home. Which, thinking back on it, is another world. Huh.”

Autumn settled into Nethlia’s arms once more, this time facing her as they talked. 

“A little bit. Mostly I find myself worrying about what other people will think, even if I know intellectually that it's normal here. Or at least it is in the Empire.”

Nethlia hummed. “I suppose I’d feel strange if I was dumped into another culture. Good thing you can speak all languages. You never said how you managed that,” she asked curiously. 

“Cause I don’t remember,” Autumn shrugged. “When I try to recall how, all I get is a bleeding nose, a blinding headache, and a desire to paint on the walls.”

“Paint what?”

Autumn shook her head, trying in vain to clear the cobwebs. “I don’t know. I can never remember that either. Strange. Maybe I should try one day?”

“Best hold off on that,” Nethlia said, grimacing. “You never know what kinda strange ideas might’ve hitched a ride. Might want to get a priest or priestess to look at your head back home.” 

Autumn blanched. “No thanks! I got a mess up here. Haven’t cleaned it out in a while. I dread what they might find.”

Nethlia laughed, the vibrations resonating pleasantly into Autumn’s chest. 

“Going back to relationships and cultures — what does it mean for us?” Autumn asked. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around all the different cultures and stuff. I don’t want to offend you for assuming something.”

Nethlia grinned wryly. “Autumn, I’ve been traveling with you for a month now, or just over it. Fuck this realm. I think I know you enough now that I won’t be offended by whatever you want.”

“We’ve either been traveling a few days or a lifetime. Take your pick.” Autumn shrugged. “But can we go back to us please?” 

“Fine,” Nethlia chuckled. “Like I said before, my people value freedom. Whether that is physical, emotional, or sexual freedom. We don’t do marriages like the Lepus, Elves, or Humans do. Not saying we can’t stick with one person our whole lifetimes, we just understand the freedom of being able to amicably walk away. It comes with the long lifespan. Uh, that won’t be a problem, will it? I know Humans don’t live as long as Inferni do.”

Autumn shrugged once more. “I’m a witch, so who knows. Might make a deal for more years down the line…or immortality. Provided Death doesn’t complain.” 

“...Right. Right, that’s good. So as I was saying, long lives plus grudges doesn’t tend to work out. We see it all the time with Elves. A thousand years locked in a loveless marriage?” Nethlia shuddered. “No thanks.” 

A snort escaped Autumn. “Sounds like hell.”

“Just the one?” Nethlia joked. “You know, I’ve noticed you often say; Hell not the Hells. And God not gods. Does your world only have a single god and a single hell?”

Autumn blinked. “Wow, and here I thought I was being subtle.”

“You were,” Nethlia reassured her. “Most would assume you only worship one, or just misspoke. It’s only because you told me that I’m remembering all the clues.”

“Oh ok. Anyway, I’m not religious back home. It’s not like here. We don’t get miracles or any tangible, empirical signs of gods. It’s all spiritual. Personal. Although some take it too far. But most believed there to be only a single hell and a single god.”

“Wait,” Autumn paused. “If the River Styx is real, does that mean Hades was—is too?” she muttered to herself. “What of Tartarus and Olympus? Zeus? Was all that true? Nope! Not dealing with that pandora’s box! No sir!”

A bemused Nethlia stroked Autumn’s head as she ranted. 

“While I don’t know about all of that, here the gods and the hells are real. Not that I’ve been to the hells. Or want to.” 

Autumn leaned into the touch. “Right. What were we talking about again?”

“Relationships, I believe. We covered my people, but what about yours? It’s not all about me.” 

“Honestly? I prefer your people's way of doing things. My culture tends to see dating and relationships far more seriously than they’re worth. Not that I’ve been in a relationship before, but it seemed so stressful.”

“How so?” Nethlia asked curiously. 

“Well, firstly, having multiple partners is frowned upon and heavily discouraged. Secondly, while same-sex relationships are now accepted in most parts of the world, it’s a fairly recent development so it’s not perfect. And that doesn’t even include the countries who see it as a perversion worthy of death,” Autumn said sadly.

Nethlia blanched. “That’s horrific!”

“I agree. My world isn’t perfect, but we’re trying. Anyway! I think we should be more like your people. I’m excited to learn more about them!”

Nethlia chuckled. “That’s good, but you’ll have to respect Eme’s culture too. I think that just means meeting her family if you’re serious.”

“That sounds like a fun trip. I’m already planning it!” Autumn cheered, glad to be off the serious topic. 

“That’s wonderful! I guess it’s a good thing you don’t want a more human, single partner relationship. It’d have broken poor Eme’s heart when you chose me,” Nethlia teased. 

Autumn raised an imperious eyebrow. “Oh? Why wouldn’t it be yours that’d be broken?”

“Hmm? What was that? Was it not my name you were screaming earlier? Was it not my fangs that marked you as mine? Shall I have to bite harder next time?” Nethlia growled playfully as she squeezed Autumn to her chest. 

Blushing and gasping for air, Autumn cried out for mercy, her voice bubbling with laughter. “Mercy! Mercy, oh mighty berserker! Have pity on this frail witch!”

“Hmph, I suppose I shall,” Nethlia disdainfully. However, any offense was quelled by the smile playing across her lips. 

Snapping up impishly, Autumn bit the surprised berserker’s lip, drawing blood. 

Nethlia licked her lips, her body heating up as she stared hungrily at the quivering rabbit that was Autumn. Visibly restraining herself from ravishing the exhausted witch again, she carried on from where she’d left off. 

“To put it crudely; while we’re together — Eme, yourself, and I — any of us can chase whatever tits or ass that takes our fancy. That doesn’t mean we can’t judge the others for their poor decision making skills. It’s half the fun.”

Autumn shook her head. “I think that might be too much for me. Besides,” she stared down at Nethlia’s extremely generous chest, “you might be a five star pull.”

“...what?” 

Autumn blushed. “It’s a gaming term. Oh, I’ll have to tell you about it later. I’m just saying you might be unmatched when it comes to my type. Like seriously, I wasn’t sure I was gay until I laid eyes on you. Then I knew.”

Nethlia chuckled, her chest heaving before Autumn’s eyes. 

“What about Eme then?”

“She’s…intoxicating in a different way, I guess,” Autumn shrugged. “I fell in love with her earnestness. To be honest, I think she was just clinging to me for emotional support. I kinda was too. I hope this’ll last when we go back to Duskfields.” 

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Nethlia smiled. “She was all over you while you slept. Was kinda hard to get in a look edgewise. She’s smitten.”

“But what if it doesn’t work out?” Autumn worried her lip between her teeth. “What if she never wants to see me again. I might just remind her of all the bad times.”

Nethlia pressed her thumb to Autumn’s lip, stopping her from biting herself. She stared down seriously into Autumn’s black orbs. 

“Then you let her go. That’s what our people are about after all. The freedom to choose. Not saying you can’t fight for her. Just don’t mistake passion for a cage.” 

Autumn buried her teary eyes into Nethlia’s chest, sobbing quietly as her anxiety overwhelmed her. Nethlia stroked her back gently. 

“I don’t think it’ll be a problem. She left these on you, didn’t she?” she teased her, tracing her fingers down the faint scars trailing down Autumn’s back, left by an overenthusiastic catgirl. 

A shiver ran up Autumn’s spine. Only mostly from the cold.

Sniffling, Autumn reluctantly pulled herself out of Nethlia's hot embrace. “We shouldn’t lie here all day.”

“I don’t know, it sounds fun,” Nethlia grinned cheekily at Autumn who huffed. 

“You might like smelling all sweaty, but I don’t.”

Nethlia huffed, giving Autumn an amused look. “Don’t lie. You were pressing yourself awfully close to me a moment ago.”

Autumn blushed, not denying it. There was something unmistakingly primal about the berserker’s scent. The pale witch eye’d the sweat dripping down her ruby red collarbone, tempted to lick it up.

No! Bad Autumn. If you do that, you’ll never make it out of the tent in one piece…Is that such a bad thing?

Nethlia eyed the salivating witch with amusement.

Shaking off her wayward thoughts, Autumn huffed. “We really should clean off.”

“Can we stay like this for a moment more?” Nethlia asked, favoring Autumn with blazing puppy eyes. “I’m not done with you yet. Plus, I’ve a few things I want to talk about.”

Before those soulful eyes, Autumn was but a weak-willed, naïve girl. Dutifully, she nodded, letting the powerful Inferni draw her in close. The heat rolling off her body was palpable, steaming the air with their combined sweat. Autumn tucked in close, listening intently as her heart beat in tune with another.

Salt danced upon her tongue. To the day she died, she’d deny surreptitiously licking Nethlia when she had the chance.

“W-what did you want to talk about?” 

Nethlia hummed, eyes closed as she held Autumn. “Myself, I guess. About my past a bit, seeing as you showed me yours.”

“You don’t have to,” Autumn offered. 

“I know, but I want to. Have I ever told you about my last party?” 

Autumn thought for a moment, breathing in Nethlia’s scent. “Maybe a little? I don’t remember. I know you told me you were an adventurer for about ten years before you retired. Were you with them then?” 

“Not the whole time,” Nethlia spoke softly. “I joined the Duskfield’s branch of the adventurer’s guild roughly twelve years ago, I think. I was already the tallest demoness around by that point, if not as muscular as I am now. Even taller than most demons too! So, given my size, bruiser work was fairly easy to fall into and to find. You know, guarding, goods hauling, monster hunting and butchering, those types of things. I spent a few years just doing that. Not the most high paying jobs, but it was ok.”

“But that changed, I’m guessing?” Autumn asked. 

Nethlia nodded, a melancholic look rising upon her face. “Yeah. A few years in, I’d made a bit of a name for myself. No, not the Omen-hammer, shush. But one for a hard, if intense worker. You see, I always had anger in me. A Rage. Still do, but I’ve learnt to deal with it. There was this small dungeoneering crew, only three strong, that was looking for a frontliner. And they picked me.”

“I guessing dungeoneers specialize in dungeon delving?”

“Yeah, but around here it’s just one dungeon — Dungeonhold. A massive underground complex that goes many hundreds of floors deep. Nobody has ever seen the bottom, nor do they know who built it, but it’s filled with lost treasures. Monsters too, and if they’re not cleared regularly enough…they overrun the entrance, spilling out into the hills and plains. It’s happened before.”

Autumn gasped. “A dungeon-break!!” 

“Is that what you call it?” Nethlia raised an eyebrow, inviting Autumn to share. 

“Well, in some stories it is. Did you experience one? Is–Is that what happened to your team?” Autumn asked softly.

Nethlia shook her head. “Nah, the last ‘dungeon-break’ was before my time. No, what happened to us was greed.”

“Greed?”

“Yeah. You see, in those days we were decent enough at delving. Just strong enough to afford the healing and repairs we needed at the end of each run as we searched for treasure and glory. Eberon’s Deep Delvers we were called, despite not going down very far. Our leader was Eberon and there were two others besides me — Dyis and Horus. For years we plundered the dark, decrepit depths until…”

“Until?” Autumn urged Nethlia to continue. 

“Until we delved too deep and came across a monster we couldn’t defeat. Couldn’t run from.” A heavy look of sadness crested her features. “Only I survived. I kept thinking to myself that I should have said something. Done something. But I was just the brute. Just muscle.”

Autumn bit her lip as tears beaded in the corners of Nethlia’s eyes.

“Is that what you think we’re doing?” Autumn asked quietly. 

Nethlia flinched. She looked away, not denying it. 

“I think the same sometimes.” Autumn's confession drew Nethlia’s eyes back to her. A rare vulnerable look bloomed across the witch’s features, for once unshaded by her hat. “Sometimes I think we’re walking to our doom. That I’ve driven us to it with a willing disregard for our lives. That we’ll find something that is as unflinching as we need to be and that we’ll break.” 

Quietly, Nethlia watched enraptured as Autumn talked, speaking both of their worries as if they were one. 

“But, if not us, then who will brave the horrors we have? That we will in the future? Who but us can kill the hag and spare the world of her malevolent power?” Autumn's voice rose into a soft fervor, no less powerful for its lack of volume. “No one, that’s who. We are the tip of the spear. The stalwart shield. The breakwater. It is I who gave the magic she needed to be a god, unwilling or not. It is up to me to be the one to right that wrong. To pay for my sins with blood if need be.”

A pall fell over the pair inside the tent. 

Nethlia mustered the courage to pry free one of the last secrets Autumn had to share. 

“What magic did she need? What magic is in that book that makes you so afraid?”

Autumn was quiet for a moment, before she opened her taut lips and bled the terrible secret upon Nethlia’s ears. She hoped the demoness would forgive her. 

“It’s called Wish.”