The streets of Eldralis were bathed in the soft glow of lantern light as Aria and Mira made their
way back to the inn. The air carried the faint hum of the city's bustling life, but Aria felt
disconnected from it all.
Her body was different—she could feel it. A strange warmth lingered in her veins, spreading
outward from the crescent flame mark on her neck. Her skin tingled with an unfamiliar
sensitivity, and even the soft brush of her tunic against her arms felt... intimate. She shivered,
unsure if it was fear, pleasure, or something in between.
"Aria, are you alright?" Mira's voice cut through the haze. She had been keeping a close eye on
Aria since their encounter with Saphira, her concern etched into her every movement.
"I... I don't know," Aria admitted, her voice shaky. She pressed a hand to the mark on her neck,
feeling it pulse faintly under her fingertips. "Something's wrong. Or maybe it's right? I can't tell
anymore."
Mira frowned, her grip tightening on her dagger. "We should get you to a healer. That
demon—she did something to you."
"No," Aria said quickly, shaking her head. "No healers. Not yet. Whatever this is, it's tied to my
magic, to my body. I need to figure it out on my own."
---
The First Signs
61
By the time they reached the inn, the strange sensations in Aria's body had intensified. Her skin
felt too tight, her pulse too loud in her ears. Every sound seemed sharper, every scent more
vivid. The wooden door to their room smelled of pine and polish; the faint aroma of roasted meat
from the inn's kitchen made her stomach growl, even though she wasn't hungry.
Once inside, she collapsed onto the bed, her breaths shallow. Mira hovered nearby, her
concern growing by the second.
"Aria, talk to me," Mira urged, sitting beside her.
"I don't know how to explain it," Aria whispered, clutching her arms. "It's like... everything is
heightened. My senses, my emotions, even my thoughts. It's overwhelming."
Mira hesitated, then placed a comforting hand on Aria's shoulder. "We'll figure this out.
Together."
As comforting as Mira's words were, Aria couldn't ignore the pull deep within her, a dark and
alluring energy that seemed to radiate from the mark. She excused herself to the washroom,
desperate for a moment of solitude.
---
The Mark Evolves
Standing before the cracked mirror, Aria unfastened her tunic and peeled it away, exposing her
neck and chest. Her eyes widened as she saw the mark on her skin. It had changed.
The crescent moon and flame had grown more intricate, curling outward in delicate,
otherworldly patterns that shimmered faintly in the dim light. The skin around the mark was
warmer, almost glowing, and the sight of it sent a shiver down her spine.
But it wasn't just the mark. Her body itself seemed... different. Her curves were more
pronounced, her skin smoother, almost luminous. Even her hair, once a simple auburn, seemed
richer in color, catching the light in a way that felt unnatural.
"What is happening to me?" she whispered, her voice trembling.
As if in response, the mark pulsed, sending a wave of warmth through her body. Her knees
buckled, and she gripped the sink for support, her breaths coming in shallow gasps. Her senses
flared again—every touch, every sound amplified to an unbearable degree.
"Aria!" Mira's voice called from the other side of the door.
62
"I'm fine!" Aria managed to choke out, though her trembling hands and flushed cheeks told
another story.
She needed answers, and she needed them now.
---
The Book of Shadows
Later that evening, after Mira had finally drifted into an uneasy sleep, Aria crept out of their
room. Her body still felt strange, but the pulsing warmth had subsided to a manageable hum.
Guided by an inexplicable urge, she found herself wandering the inn's common area, where a
small shelf of dusty books caught her eye.
One book in particular seemed to call to her. Its cover was bound in dark leather, with no title to
indicate its contents. Aria hesitated, then pulled it from the shelf, her fingers tingling as they
touched the worn spine.
Back in her room, she lit a candle and began to flip through the pages. The text was written in
an ancient dialect, but to her surprise, she could read it as easily as her own thoughts.
The book detailed the nature of succubi—creatures born of desire and magic, their power tied to
their ability to feed on the emotions and life force of others. They were beings of unparalleled
beauty and allure, their bodies crafted to seduce and dominate.
As she read, Aria's chest tightened. The descriptions matched what she was experiencing—the
heightened senses, the unnatural changes to her appearance, the strange pull of the mark.
"Am I... becoming one of them?" she whispered, her fingers trembling as they traced the text.
Further into the book, she found a passage that sent a chill down her spine:
The Matriarch of Succubi is a being of unparalleled power, chosen by the Veil itself to lead her
kind. Her body serves as a vessel for forbidden magic, and her mark is the key to her
awakening.
Aria slammed the book shut, her heart racing. "Matriarch," she repeated, the word tasting
foreign on her tongue.
Her thoughts spiraled. If what Saphira had said was true, then her transformation wasn't just a
coincidence—it was her destiny. But why? And what did the succubi want from her?
63
---
The Darker Side
The following days brought more changes. Aria found herself drawn to the shadows, her body
responding to the night in ways she couldn't explain. Her magic, once golden and radiant, now
flickered with streaks of deep crimson.
But the changes weren't just physical. She began to notice the darker side of her newfound
abilities—an unspoken hunger that gnawed at the edges of her mind. When she passed people
in the streets, she could feel their emotions like a tangible force, and the temptation to draw
from them, to feed, was almost unbearable.
One evening, as they prepared to leave Eldralis for the next leg of their journey, Aria confided in
Mira.
"Something's happening to me," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I think... I
think I'm becoming like her."
Mira's eyes narrowed. "Like Saphira?"
Aria nodded. "The mark, the changes to my body, even my magic—it all points to me becoming
a succubus. Or worse, their Matriarch."
Mira hesitated, then placed a hand on Aria's shoulder. "Whatever's happening, we'll face it
together. But you have to promise me one thing."
"What?"
"Don't lose yourself, Aria. No matter what."
Aria nodded, though the weight of Mira's words lingered. Deep down, she knew that staying true
to herself would be easier said than done.
As they left the city behind, the mark on her neck pulsed again, a silent reminder that her
journey was far from over—and that her transformation was only just beginning.