News, Awards, and Gifts Inside! (May 2023) (Patreon)

Hi, all!

Okay, this post is time sensitive, so don't skip it!

Awards

I've sent out the Awards for this month! The process isn't perfect, so comment (do not message me) and I can get you your goodies.

As a reminder, this is likely the last time I can send out free copies of Home and Labyrinth to patrons. I did drop both of them down a tier, which means people who just earned the first one actually got 1 & 2! But you HAVE to claim them ASAP. If you are nowhere near close enough, they are both over on WetLeafPress.com for a very cheap price.

News

Master Class 2 exceeded expectations and remained 1st in its category for almost a week. If you read it and forgot to leave a review, make sure you go do it as soon as possible. The name of the game these days is reviews AND sales, which sounds silly, but apparently that's how the algorithms work these days.

Review Link

As a thanks for your enthusiasm, Virgil had the phone wallpaper made for you up above! I will be dumping the NSFW version over in the Discord channel. Enjoy!

We have not yet reached a thousand preorders for Master Class 3. 

The new audiobooks will begin production soon. Succubus Summoner will be out in a couple of week and that promises to be a good time. Hey, I have a funny idea. Why don't I share the first three chapters with you?

SURPRISE STORY-TIME, MONSTER LOVERS!
[Note: Patrons are not charged for this]

SUCCUBUS SUMMONER: Part 1

By Virgil Knightley and Annabelle Hawthorne

Chapter 1
 

It was a time of great change in Midgardia. Some changes were broadly seen as positive, but many feared that most of it was for the worst. Old treaties and pacts that had been forged over the centuries had begun to overlap in such a way that it was increasingly difficult to navigate the political landscape. The whispers of war were growing louder.

The nation of Terth had been on good terms with its neighbors for decades without being forced into any major military engagements. This was a point of pride for its people, from the lowest peasant to the King himself. However, Terth was in an increasingly uncomfortable position: it would need to choose a side in a conflict that could very well swallow up everything—if they chose wrongly. In order to be ready, the royal throne had requested that the military be bolstered with more of its elite units: The Summoners.

Vulkswain’s School for Summoners was the foremost authority on the strange realms of the Outer Spheres and the mysterious entities that lived amongst them. Summoners forged bonds with these entities, or else bound them against their will to do the Summoner’s bidding. Anyone in the surrounding counties who had a lick of talent for the art was tested by the faculty of Vulkswain’s, in the hopes of attracting more students who would go on to be commissioned officers in the Kingdom’s military.

All eyes were on Vulkswain’s, as even those without a talent for magic knew that it would be the might of the Summoners that would eventually be called upon to keep them all safe from the coming war.

None of that mattered to Samuel Eamon as he adjusted the cravat under the collar of his white shirt. It was the only real splash of color in his ensemble—a nice vibrant blue that matched the chroma of his eyes. Once the tightness was to his liking, he adjusted his collar once more before running his fingers through sandy blond hair that shone like gold in the light of the sun. Satisfied with the part and the sheen, he double-checked the buttons of his shirt, smoothing out even the most minor wrinkles in the fabric. He absolutely needed to look his best today.

“Lord Samuel,” called an older man’s voice from the other side of the door, “Are you up? It’s nearly time.”

“Come in, Wilson,” Samuel answered without taking his eyes off the mirror. A moment later the latch on the door clicked and his middle-aged valet entered, removing his hat as he crossed the threshold.

“Still preening, are we, young master?” the valet asked dryly. It was the kind of thing most servants would never have dared to say to their Lords, but which was often the norm between the two when behind closed doors. Wilson was forthright with most people and, being that he had been with Samuel since his childhood, the young man was no exception, even now at the majority age of twenty.

“You know me,” Samuel chuckled, “dress to impress, as they say.”

“It’s simply another exam,” the older man advised. “It might not be necessary to be quite so formal.”

“Perhaps,” the younger man admitted as he turned to face the valet. “Humor me anyway. How does this look?”

Wilson took a moment to look the young man over, giving him a sincere appraisal with keen, dusky eyes, “Very smart, m’lord.”

Samuel snapped his fingers happily and turned to grab his cloak, which had been hanging by the window from the post of his rather large bed. Though he had remained at the academy nearly every day of his training, the son of a duke was still afforded some of the luxuries of home. Besides the obvious statement that having a personal valet represented, the interior of his well-decorated room and its various furnishings made it abundantly clear who and what he was…to everyone.

“You’re awfully sprightly this morning,” Wilson observed as he took a moment to locate the shoes the young man would be wearing and gave them a quick shine.

“Of course!” Samuel beamed. “It’s the day I’ve been waiting for since I walked through Vulkswain’s front doors. Today’s the day that I finally get my certification and become a fully realized Summoner.”

“Your father will be proud,” Wilson praised as he finished one shoe and moved on to the next.

Samuel glanced over at the portrait of his father hanging over the mantle as he felt a brief pang of worry in his chest. He’d not seen his father in some time—the duties of the Duke were extensive, especially in times like these. But he knew that once he had his certification in hand he would be able to join his father, travel with him, and learn what would come next in his life.

Everything came down to this exam. Once it was all behind Samuel, he would be able to take his rightful place in the world the way his family had always intended. On the far side of the courtyard, the bells in the tower began to toll.

“Alright, let’s get a move on,” Wilson said, handing the shoes over for the young man to hastily put on. Once they were laced up tightly, Samuel gave himself a final appraisal in the mirror before donning his cloak. There was a saying among the commoners about dressing for the job you wanted that he felt rang true no matter who you were.

While most of the sprawling grounds of the school were fairly modern, the place where the Proving would occur was decidedly not. It was a tradition to perform the exams in the old, decrepit dungeons of centuries ago. The organization of Summoners known as the Mysterium was famous for its strict adherence to tradition, even as it continued to adapt to the changing times around it.

The doors to the Cloister of Proof were still closed when Samuel arrived. This mercifully meant that all the time he’d spent getting ready had not made him tardy. He approached the ancient doors, carved with intricate depictions of various Outsiders from the Outer Spheres, as three of his instructors emerged from one of the side corridors. With them were their respective familiars.

Professor Shizira was a Weald Watcher Summoner, specializing in wood and plant life, though she had demonstrated several times that this was by no means something she was restricted to. She was an elf who, despite appearing to be in her late twenties, was likely a century older. Students often made a game of trying to guess her age, but made certain to do so far away from her keen, pointy ears.

Shizira was often rather stoic, which made her moments of anger all the more startling. Her long blonde hair was tied into a bun on the back of her head while her eyes, which sparkled like emeralds, scanned Samuel’s attire with distinct approval. With her was a raccoon familiar, a creature with mossy fur and dark, inquisitive eyes.

Next to her stood Professor Rowley, standing almost two heads shorter than the elf. The Wind Rider was in her forties, but often behaved like she was still in her late teens. She was known among the students for wearing her emotions on her sleeve, as well as an ample bust that could be seen bouncing bountifully as she ran up and down the halls throughout the week, always rushing to something or another.

The professor was the object of many students’ fantasies over the years. The only thing kinder than her in the world was perhaps her cat familiar, a creature with fluffy, feathery fur that weaved its way between Samuel’s legs as it purred noisily.

Last, towering over the other two, was Professor Uffea. The Earth Talker had been a shaman of the north for years before she had come to Terth and obtained her certification.

She was one of the few regular members of faculty who held the rank of High Summoner, though she often asked students not to refer to her as such. Many regarded her as a strict ball-breaker, but she had somehow developed a soft spot for the duke’s son early into his training—a fact that irritated many of his classmates.

Samuel had always been genuine and respectful with her, and he supposed that must have been what had won her over. Like Rowley, she was middle-aged but with a voluptuous build that had even caught Samuel’s notice from time to time. At her side was the large, lumbering bear that served as her familiar, its body encrusted with stone plates.

“You’re looking sharp,” Shizira remarked, “Hoping to make a good impression?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Samuel answered with a wide, toothy grin, unable to contain his excitement.

“Try to curb your enthusiasm,” Uffea cautioned, “You don’t want to get ahead of yourself. You’ve not completed the Proving just yet.”

“Nonsense!” Rowley scoffed, waving the much-taller woman off, “Don’t frighten the poor boy. He’s going to do splendidly!”

The young man straightened his expression and shook his head, though. “No. She’s right. I need to remain focused until it’s all over. There will be plenty of time to celebrate later.”

Shizira and Uffea exchanged glances before giving Samuel nods of approval. He had to assure them that he wasn’t going to trip at the finish line now that he had come all this way. He’d been nothing but completely dedicated to the craft of Summoning for years, as far back as he could remember. It was in his blood, practically part of the title his family carried. He didn’t just want to become a Summoner—he needed to. He had to. Failure simply wasn’t an option.

“Will you be in the gallery?” Samuel asked, his eyes darting between them. Normally, Apprentices weren’t aware of the identities of most of the people in the gallery, or even those who would be sitting in judgment of them. It was a tradition meant to preserve a degree of impartiality, but usually it didn’t take a genius to figure out who some of the individuals would be.

Professor Rowley nodded emphatically, “Of course! I wouldn’t miss this for the world, Samuel.”

“Have you a plan for your approach to the ritual?” Uffea asked, changing the subject.

“I do,” Samuel answered, though he offered no additional details. If she was going to be a little coy, then he could be too. It’s not as though the answers wouldn’t be made plain shortly.

From beyond the doors came the deafening sound of a gong, signaling for the Apprentice Summoner to prepare his entrance. The three professors each wished Samuel good luck, with Professor Rowley even getting a little teary-eyed as she threw her arms around him to embrace him. He put the softness of her warm, ample chest out of his mind in order to remain focused on the task at hand. After the three vanished down the corridor they had emerged from, the doors in front of him opened.

Samuel glanced back at Wilson for a final nod of encouragement. The valet had remained as silent as the grave the entire time he had been speaking with his professors. As casual as their relationship often was, the man knew to mind his manners in public, lest he cast his lord in a bad light.

“Good luck, m’lord,” the man said quietly, his posture straight and still like a soldier at attention.

“Thank you, Wilson,” Samuel replied, just above a whisper, before stepping into the darkness of the Cloister of Proving beyond the doors.

After he had gone several steps in total darkness, magical lights overhead began to slowly illuminate, casting a well-lit circle onto the floor below. Samuel stepped into the circle, knowing what to expect from the countless hours of preparation he had done for this single moment.

“Lord Samuel Eamon, son of Duke Eamon,” a strong, clear male voice addressed him from somewhere beyond the circle. “You stand here an Apprentice Summoner, seeking to become a fully licensed Summoner. Do you believe yourself ready for the Proving?”

“I do!” Samuel answered confidently, despite his heart threatening to leap out of his chest. Up until now he had experienced only anticipation for this moment, but now that the words were being spoken and he stood here at the precipice, he was actually quite jittery.

“Excellent,” the voice acknowledged. “Then it is time for you to call your familiar. What creature have you chosen?”

“For my familiar, I have chosen the rabbit,” Samuel stated confidently, though he had very nearly used the word ‘bunny’ instead of ‘rabbit.’ There was a sort of quiet that answered him from the darkness for a long, agonizing moment.

Many Apprentices made the mistake of initially shooting too high. It was incredibly common for a hopeful Apprentice Summoner to fail the proving the first time for exactly this reason, rejoining the student body as a mere Caller rather than a fully-realized Summoner.

But Samuel had given it a lot of consideration and thought. He wanted something simpler, something he could keep with him regardless of where he went. He regarded Uffea highly, but he had to imagine that walking around with a bear in some places had to be more than a little inconvenient.

The silence was broken by the sound of Rowley whispering somewhere in the gallery beyond the light. She was explaining the mystical significance of the rabbit to someone. It was impossible to tell if it was one of the other professors, or the person who had been addressing him this whole time. Fertility, sensitivity, and haste were among the things that he heard her say before someone shushed her abruptly.

“Very well,” the male voice finally said, “You may begin.”

Another circle of light illuminated a table to Samuel’s right. On the table were all the things that a Summoner would need to call an Outsider, the creatures who lived in the Outer Spheres beyond the physical world. The process was intricate and complex, no matter how simple he told himself he had made things. Even something like a rabbit would require significant energy to reach and bring forth into the world.

Approaching the table, Samuel took quick stock of what they had provided him. There were many standard components, as well as some more exotic ones for Apprentices who felt they might try for a specific sphere to pull from. Some thought of themselves as hotshot Flame Sculptors or whimsical Wave Shapers already, and would aim to draw from the Spheres aligned with that element. Again, this often led to numerous failures, as students tried to tell the familiar what it must be rather than let the familiar choose its own form. It was about knowing oneself and one’s own limitations, surrendering to the will of the Spheres and accepting what your first Outsider saw in you. It would, after all, be the companion that remained at your side for the rest of your life.

Samuel was going with a safer approach, picking components for something a bit more generalized. Once he had what he needed in hand, he returned to the first lit circle and slowly knelt down on the stone floor. Here he began to draw his circle, carefully measuring it out to ensure the energies would be circulated and bound correctly. He paused to glance into the dark when he heard whispering. It stopped as soon as the whisperer noticed he was looking in their direction. Sounded like Professor Rowley again.

Focusing his attention back to the circle, he continued to work, drawing a secondary circle within the first and then carefully measuring out the lines he would need for the array. Despite his stated goal of a rabbit and his intentions to keep things simple, Samuel never half-assed a summoning circle. Ever. That was how many cocky Summoners had met their ends and how many Apprentices had failed the proving as well. By keeping the objective simple but the execution detailed and sophisticated, Samuel hoped to obtain his ideal familiar on the first try.

After the lines were drawn and secondary nodes added to the array, Samuel placed his components. Standing up and stepping out of the circle, he checked and double-checked the array. Satisfied that everything looked good, he circled back around to the other side and placed his hands out to begin the recitation that would kick off the ritual.

The words rang out clear and true, despite it being a language that was only spoken by a small portion of the entire population for the sole purpose of magic. It was the language of the spheres and, when spoken aloud, carried mystical weight that echoed forth beyond this world into the next.

Each completed phrase brought greater power with it, which could be felt tangibly in the air even by someone without a drop of magic in their blood. It was like knowing when a storm was coming, or when someone was standing behind you in a dark room—it was pure instinct, the kind that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. With each repetition of the words, they grew louder, despite the fact that he’d not raised his voice in the slightest. Wind gathered. The ground shook. The lights flickered.

And then nothing.

He’d spoken the final phrase of the spell, and he had been certain that he had felt something. But there was nothing there in the circle. For a moment his heart sank when suddenly the lights flickered once more and went out entirely. Despite the lights being of a magical nature, it was as though someone had simply blown them out like a candle. Was that normal?

A few words of magic were spoken from the dark and the lights reignited, though this time the gallery was lit as well. There were more people by far in attendance than he had expected, all of them staring unblinkingly down at his summoning circle. Slowly, his gaze followed theirs.

There, in the center of the circle, was an unexpectedly humanoid figure of decidedly female shape. The creature’s legs were long and powerful, her eyes like shining rubies, and her skin as white and pure as the driven snow. On her back was a pair of large black wings like that of a bat, and atop her head, poking through her milky white hair, were long rabbit ears. Were it not for the simple leather bindings around her ample breasts and the long cloth that hung between her sinfully thick thighs, the creature would have been standing before them completely naked.

The Outsider said nothing and remained motionless save for her eyes darting around at the individuals looking on in dumbstruck awe. Finally, the red eyes settled on Samuel and narrowed slightly, seemingly just as confused as he was with the turn that events had taken. It was so silent within the Cloister of Proving that he could have heard a ghost queef.

“Uhm,” Professor Rowley interjected hesitantly. “Congratulations on your familiar, Samuel…”

Samuel’s brow furrowed as he looked up at the woman giving him an awkward thumbs-up with both hands before his eyes went back to the creature staring at him from the circle. He couldn’t be certain, but had he somehow just summoned some kind of…succubus?

---

Chapter 2

An awkward silence had draped itself over the chamber, creating an atmosphere so uncomfortable that Samuel wanted to crawl right out of his skin. Each of the people gathered in the gallery above stared down at him as if he was the one that would have the answers to the situation—admittedly a reasonable assumption.

But he didn’t have any answers. He couldn’t think of what to do or say. His gaze shifted continuously between them and the oddly sexy bunny girl standing in the circle before he tried the only thing he could think of.

“Who are you?” Samuel asked the creature. “What the hell is going on here?”

The creature stared back at him wordlessly. Though it looked mostly human, those large eyes, along with the ears and wings, were most assuredly not human. It made no indication that it even understood what he was saying for the moment.

“Lord Eamon,” the headmaster began, his voice jerking Samuel out of his stupor. “What is the name by which your familiar will be known?”

Samuel stared wide-eyed at the bearded man before slowly looking down at the circle. A keen eye could have spotted the name within the circle itself—it was part of the array, after all. But part of the ceremony was announcing the familiar, declaring its name for all to hear. The only problem with this was that Samuel had chosen the name when trying to summon a rabbit. Not a rabbit girl, just a regular magical rabbit from the Outer Spheres.

He opened his mouth to answer but found that the name just didn’t want to come. His face grew hot with embarrassment as he became keenly aware of the fact that all eyes were on him. Taking a deep breath, he resolved to speak the answer firmly and clearly.

“Snowball,” Samuel croaked pathetically.

“What was that, Lord Eamon?” The headmaster asked, leaning forward over the railing of the gallery.

Samuel cleared his throat before speaking up with a confidence he certainly didn’t feel. “Snowball, Headmaster. My familiar’s name is Snowball.”

Rowley snorted somewhere in the gallery before catching an elbow from someone else. Samuel kept his eyes fixed upon the creature in the circle as the heat from his face spread all the way to his ears. He knew which part of the process came next, and he wasn’t at all ready for it. It was time for him to be left alone with the creature, completely isolated from everyone else. The isolation was to become a time of bonding for the two of them, a process that would solidify her as his new familiar and allow him to call her again at any time in the future—should the bonding succeed.

Samuel grunted with irritation. He was already beginning to think of the creature as a “she” rather than an “it.” Blurring lines like this with a summoned entity that looked like she did was not something that would serve him well in the slightest.

Above him, the headmaster spoke less to him, and more to the rest of the room as the process moved along. There was a separate chamber, off of this one, where the isolation and bonding would occur. He would have to remain with her for roughly twenty-four hours before they could come to retrieve him. He would have to remain focused on her and their bond for that entire time. If she slipped back to where she came from, he would fail his Proving. It was exceedingly rare for someone to fail at this point in the process, but when it did happen, it became a cautionary tale shared in hushed whispers.

The headmaster spoke a word of magic in a booming voice, causing the doors to the isolation chamber to open seemingly of their own accord. Samuel looked down at the summoning circle as he placed his foot close to the outer barrier of it. His gaze shifted to the succubus creature inside it, “You’re to come with me—is that understood?”

Again, she only stared back at him. He had a vague sense of her confusion in the back of his mind, which was an interesting sensation. His own feelings on the situation were complex enough as it was, but now he had another set of emotions to consider.

“I’m going to break the circle,” Samuel explained, leaning down to point directly at the line, “And then you will come with me.” He tried to gesture in a way that she might understand.

Snowball’s eyes went down to the line when he pointed, then looked back up at him, staring expectantly. He was about to speak louder, with more spacing between his words, the way people always seemed to try when there was a language barrier, when she finally nodded.

“Good,” Samuel whispered as he returned the nod. “That’s good. Good…job, I guess.”

With the bottom of his foot, he rubbed out a gap in the line. All of the magic that had been held within the complex array began to falter and fade. The invisible pillar of binding that had formed shimmered in the air before slowly fading out of sight once again.

He moved on to the next ring in the array and rubbed a gap out of that one as well. With a brief crackle, the gathered magic dispersed harmlessly into the chamber, slowly leaking out of this plane of existence through the innumerable cracks in reality to return to whence it came.

Those gathered in the gallery were already beginning to file out through exits on their level, leaving him and Snowball to make their way to the isolation chamber. Usually, Samuel would be polite and offer a lady his hand when leading her somewhere…but she wasn’t a typical lady. She wasn’t even human, despite how she may have looked. Samuel did his best not to spend too much time looking. Every aspect of her body seemed to be expertly crafted for purposes most charitably described as “sinful.”

Instead, he waved vaguely for her to follow as he trudged across the chamber to the waiting doors, unaware of how long they might remain open for him.

The isolation chamber was much smaller than the chamber used for the Proving. It was also more comfortable, though only slightly. There was a soft carpet instead of bare stone, and instead of furniture, pillows had been strewn about the floor. On the far side of the room was a low table with a wide array of food and drink for the both of them, all set out on platters. He wondered if this, in itself, was a test. There was no bathroom in here, so any relieving of himself he would have to do would be in front of his familiar.

Snowball crossed the room to look over the food, her nose twitching and sniffing in a distinctly rabbit-like way. Behind him, the heavy stone doors to the chamber slid closed, with another set of heavier doors slamming shut in the distance. Everything was closed up now. It was just him and Snowball for the next twenty-four hours.

Samuel flopped down on one of the most-oversized pillows available, letting a long exasperated sigh escape him in the process. He ran a hand through his hair, completely disregarding all the time he’d put into looking his best earlier that morning. “Fantastic,” he grumbled.

Snowball’s ear twitched before she turned her head to look at him. Her expression turned curious, thinking he was attempting to communicate with her again.

“Sorry. Wasn’t talking to you,” Samuel grumbled as he slumped. “Go ahead and eat. I’m not hungry.”

With a wave of his hand, Snowball returned to her inspection of the table with all of the food. With another deep breath, Samuel closed his eyes to focus his thoughts on the delicate connection between him and his new familiar. It existed as a thin thread between them in his mind; though fragile, it didn’t appear to be under any strain.

Sometimes, a familiar’s own nature would compel it to resist or tug at the thread. Either it resented being summoned or was scared by the surroundings it suddenly found itself in. In rare cases, the familiar found the Summoner’s personality utterly antithetical to its own and would actively rebel until the connection was broken. Thankfully, none of that seemed to be a problem for him at the moment.

When he opened his eyes, Snowball was hunched over the table on all fours, her shapely humanoid ass wiggling from side to side, the fluff of her bunny tail twitching. She rifled through a plate of vegetables, stuffing a few of them into her mouth with a thoughtful look, as if testing the flavors for the first time. Samuel couldn’t help but chuckle a little at the strange child-like wonder she was showing over a plate of produce. Again, her ears twitched as she looked over her shoulder at him.

“Sorry,” Samuel apologized as he waved a hand with a laugh. “You just…um…” She stared back at him blankly, his chuckle of amusement swiftly becoming an awkward one of embarrassment. “Nevermind.”

With a sharp sniff of her nose, Snowball returned to the food, methodically testing each item one by one. Samuel closed his eyes to return his focus on the taut but weak connecting thread that was strung between them. His training had taught him that it required intense focus to maintain the connection, that the thread should feel strong and sturdy like a silk rope by the time everything was over. But the thread was not strengthening, nor did it seem to require his focus for its continued existence.

Samuel had no idea what that meant. He hadn’t read of anything like it. Judging by the looks he had received from those gathered in the gallery, nothing about this situation was normal. He imagined that the faculty had already assembled to discuss the predicament, as something like a succubus should have been far and away beyond his current level of skill to be able to call.

That is, if she actually was a succubus. It was the distinct impression that he got from her, but he’d never heard of a succubus looking so inspired by a rabbit in its appearance. He liked to think that he had prepared himself for everything possible to him regarding the subtle variations that summons could take, but this was a surprise.

In his mind’s eye, he imagined running his finger along the thread to test its tautness. As he did, he felt a distinct tingle run through his hand. The feeling brought a smile to his face as he followed the thread’s length. The farther along the thread he moved, the stronger the feelings of his familiar became in his mind.

Intensely interested in this development, he moved a little further and found that Snowball was absolutely ravenous. There was a hunger inside of her that was so prevalent that it shifted quickly from the back of his mind to the very front. It was difficult to describe, as it wasn’t just a hunger for food but rather for some other nourishment he couldn’t quite place.

Whatever it was, it set his stomach to rumbling as if it were his own hunger. He pulled back along the thread, easing away from her feelings as gently as possible for fear of putting too much strain on the connection. His stomach continued to growl despite returning to his own end of the thread.

Perhaps it wasn’t just her, after all. Perhaps he had been hungry before and just hadn’t realized it amid all of the confusion and embarrassment of his Proving. He considered grabbing something from the table to snack on, but he had to ensure he wouldn’t overdo it.

When he opened his eyes, Snowball was mere inches from his nose, staring at him expectantly. Samuel leaned back an inch or so from the succubus as a sudden blush filled his cheeks. “Eh, excuse me?”

He couldn’t help the wandering of his eyes, which slipped down her slender neck to the swell of her breasts beneath the rudimentary cloth that barely preserved her modesty. He swallowed hard as he tried desperately not to imagine the softness of them in his hands, juxtaposed against the firmness of her nipples as he—

Snowball shoved an apple in his face, immediately breaking his train of thought. He stared at her in surprise before slowly reaching up with one hand to take it. “Did… you sense that I was hungry?”

The familiar pursed her lips thoughtfully, the feeling of which came through their connection very clearly. He tilted his head to the side before offering her a smile.

“Thank you.”

Though she had no understanding of his words, she did understand the general feeling of gratitude that he shared. This was much more in line with Samuel’s studies. A Summoner and a familiar typically communicated through emotional impressions or vague mental images. Sometimes, a connection was so strong that it could manifest as both, forming an almost rudimentary language all its own. A mental body language was how some referred to it.

This must have been what that was like. He could speak all he wanted, but if there wasn’t some form of mental image or emotional weight to the words, she wasn’t likely to understand a lick of it. It was a good thing to keep in mind.

Satisfied that she had assisted him with what he needed, Snowball went back to the table to look over some more of the fruits on the platter where she had obtained the apple. Samuel watched her curiously, putting the lewd thoughts out of his mind for a moment as he bit into his apple. The satisfaction he felt with the juicy crunch confirmed immediately what he had suspected earlier, that he had actually been much hungrier than he’d realized. Within moments he’d taken the apple down to the core and tossed it into the small trash receptacle in the corner of the room.

The Summoner observed his familiar as she continued to sniff and paw at the food on the table. Her choices would have been obvious to him even if there hadn’t been a connection between them. She could eat a few fruits but generally passed on them. The meat and grains were of no interest to her at all. There hadn’t been one she’d tried among the vegetables yet that she didn’t like.

It seemed to him that her diet was to be composed almost entirely of vegetables. He theorized that if there was any grass or hay present, she might have been keen on that as well. He made a mental note to test that later.

This was another thing that had managed to go in his favor despite everything else that seemed to have gone wrong. One of the reasons he had chosen a rabbit was the creature’s diet. Many people who did manage to summon fearsome beasts as their familiars quickly discovered how difficult it was to provide a complex diet for such a creature.

Even those who had chosen simpler carnivores often found how challenging maintaining a steady supply of meat could be. While still on school grounds, the dietary needs of familiars were met just the same as those of the students. But when a licensed Summoner finally went out into the world on their own, it was a whole different story.

“Fuck,” Samuel muttered as the thought of going out into the world with Snowball imposed itself over everything else. What were people going to think about him walking around with such a sexually-charged creature attached to him at the hip? Once the bonding process was done, he could dismiss her to the pocket of space that such creatures resided in after they became bonded familiars. However, keeping a familiar in that space indefinitely was detrimental to their connection and happiness—not to mention it would be bad for her health after a while.

“What am I going to do?” he groaned as he ran his hands through his hair. Who would take him seriously as a Summoner when he had a scantily-clad wench hanging off his arm? Everyone was going to think he was some kind of pervert, another one of the nobles who used their power and privilege for sexual gratification above all else.

Snowball was on all fours in front of him once again, this time with a pear that she offered to him. What appetite he’d had was suddenly gone. He gently brushed the fruit aside, sighing, “No, I’m not hungry anymore. Thank you.”

Once more, Snowball pursed her lips as she set the pear to one side. He could feel her considering what it was that he wanted, tangibly confused by his refusal of the food. What he was experiencing was probably too foreign or too complex for her to understand just yet.

Snowball looked down before placing a hand between his legs, a smile curling the corners of her lips. Samuel froze as she groped around, then nearly jumped through the ceiling when she found what she was looking for, giving him a firm squeeze.

“Hey, HEY!” He swatted her hand away from his crotch. Though the contact wasn’t particularly hard, she jerked back as if he had prodded her with a hot iron. He felt a surge of fear and confusion travel through the connection and down to the base of his skull. Reflexively he reached out to take hold of both of her hands to try and calm her.

“Shh, shh, no. It’s not like that,” he hastened to assure her. “I’m not mad or anything. It’s just not something that is done. It’s not appropriate.”

Her fear and shock ebbed, but what remained was pure confusion. His half-hearted explanation lacked the emotional clarity she needed, namely because it was a touch that had excited him a little, and yet he seemed to hate it. She stared back at him with large, blank, red eyes. The wings on her back folded a little closer to her body as if to offer herself a comforting hug.

“I’m not angry with you,” he repeated, squeezing her hands softly. “You just can’t go groping people like that is all.”

Again, she didn’t appear to understand, but she seemed to be picking up on what was in his tone.

“You surprised me,” he explained, trying to keep the sentiment as simple as possible. Slowly Snowball nodded, as if understanding the idea of being taken by surprise and simply overreacting. He smiled as he returned her nod, “That’s it, you got it. I was just surprised, that’s all! You’re fine. It’s fine.”

A smile spread across Snowball’s face, satisfied with his explanation now that it had been made as simple as possible. She reached down and took the pear back as Samuel gave her another reassuring nod. The connection between the two of them remained. Indeed, it felt as though it had strengthened.

Snowball leaned back onto the balls of her feet and shrugged. “Sorry.”

Samuel nearly choked on his own spit. “D-did you just fucking talk!?”

The familiar looked down at the pear with a puzzled look on her face before glancing at the table. She couldn’t seem to figure out what he’d just asked her. Instead, she shrugged again and smiled. “Sorry?”

“…What the fuck?” Samuel gasped in amazement. “What is going on?”

---

Chapter 3

“How is this even possible?” Samuel wondered aloud, and though he wasn’t speaking directly to Snowball, she seemed to think he was. The familiar tilted her head to one side, one of her ears twitching a little in her confusion.

Samuel raised a hand, trying to signal that he wasn’t speaking to her specifically. The fact remained that she had spoken and had done so entirely on her own. It wasn’t impossible for a familiar to speak, but those that did had required years of training or magical alteration in order to have just a few dozen words at their disposal in most cases. He’d been with Snowball for less than a few hours, and she had already spoken a word, entirely on her own, without him intending for her to do so. She had arrived at her first word independently.

“Can you say other words?” he asked curiously.

“Yes,” she replied with an excited smile, apparently pleased that she had understood his question. The sense of satisfaction she had with herself practically radiated off of the familiar.

Samuel leaned forward from his spot on the overstuffed pillow, “Incredible!”

“Incredible,” Snowball agreed with a nod, though this word felt more like parroting than a true response to his statement.

The Summoner put a hand over his mouth, absolutely astounded at what he was hearing. Three words, even if all she was doing was copying him, was unprecedented. He couldn’t think of a single instance of this occurring in all his studies.

Not only was his familiar some kind of sexy humanoid who may or may not be a succubus, but she was also capable of talking to him. Snowball was learning at an alarming rate, and he couldn’t keep the goofy smile that stretched from ear to ear from his face.

Sensing his renewed interest, Snowball scooted back over to him with narrowed eyes. He had the distinct sense that she was examining him more closely now, that she too had a renewed fascination for the situation.

“Um, hi,” Samuel croaked nervously.

“Hi hi,” she replied, lifting her eyebrows and wiggling them slightly. What was that supposed to mean? Was she attempting to come on to him?

“Are you just copying me now?” he queried skeptically.

“No,” Snowball whispered as she leaned in close to him, her lips brushing against his cheek. “Am learning. Keep talking.”

Samuel’s face got warm at the intimate contact. Her lips were soft and inviting, something that he never thought he would even be considering when it came to a summoned creature. She gently placed her hands on his shoulders as she rested her weight against him.

“Don’t stop, Master,” she sighed close to his ear. He knew what she meant, but the suggestive way she said it made it difficult for him to process the request.

“Er, uh, right. You need me to talk more in order to learn more words?” he stammered.

“Yes, more,” she whispered gently. “More, Master, more.”

Samuel swallowed the lump in his throat as she pressed against him. The soft swell of her breasts against his chest made it difficult for him to think of anything worth saying. Indeed, it made it difficult to think of anything at all.

Snowball wiggled her hips a little, and he felt a wave of anticipation come through the link from her. He couldn’t be sure, but his familiar’s current focus didn’t seem to be entirely concerned with the prospect of learning words.

“You know, you don’t have to be this close,” Samuel suggested weakly.

“No?” Snowball asked, a smile coming to her face. “Master sure?”

It had been only minutes since she started talking, and now the two of them were exchanging ideas vocally. Granted, her speech was a little broken and had a thick accent he couldn’t place, but it was hardly something to quibble over, considering the circumstances.

There was also the fact that she was more interested in exchanging more than mere words. A wave of desire washed over him, not born of his own mind. Behind it came the mental image of her sucking hungrily at his cock, which caused him to put her at arm’s reach hurriedly.

“No like?” Snowball asked with a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

“What? No, I mean yes, but no. Not like this,” Samuel tried to explain in his flustered state. “It’s not proper, not to mention incredibly unethical. Summoning something to stick my dick in would be pretty scummy, don’t you think?”

“Mmm, dick?” Snowball inquired as she nibbled her bottom lip, large eyes fixating on the growing bulge of his crotch.

“Yes, dick,” he said, clarifying what it was called.

“Want Master dick!” Snowball declared proudly, reaching with one hand toward his crotch once again.

“No!” Samuel protested, crossing his legs as he turned away from her. “Cut it out! We’re not doing that, alright?”

Unlike last time, Snowball didn’t appear to be offended. She wasn’t deterred, either. The familiar stepped back toward the food, a sly look in her eyes as she shrugged. “We’ll see.”

Samuel breathed a sigh of relief as she occupied herself with a head of broccoli, but realized almost immediately that it was a bit of a ploy. With how Snowball was bent over, the rudimentary loincloth that she wore shifted to one side, revealing the generous majority of one ass cheek. Did she wear underwear? If the loincloth moved farther, would he see everything?

He was jarred from his perverse musings by Snowball snickering over her shoulder, mouth full of broccoli. She teased him with a wiggle of her ass, causing him to look pointedly at the ceiling in protest.

“Not funny,” he protested, crossing his arms before closing his eyes to focus on the connection between them.

“Is funny,” his familiar argued with a defiant sniff. “Is very funny. Master Samuel cute.”

The mental image of the thread strung between them within his mind became a little more vibrant. Her teasing him a little strengthened the bond. He could also feel the desire there, adding an interesting shade of red to the thread.

Well, at least all the clowning around wasn’t just a waste of time—it was doing the job he usually would have been doing with mental focus and meditation.

Ultimately, that would be the route he would have to take. Each time they interacted, she had found ways to make it sexual. It lent a lot of weight to the idea of her being a succubus, but her heavy-handed attempts at seduction weren’t something he could just give in to. Still, a part of him rationalized that the bond between them would indeed be strengthened by giving her exactly what she wanted, by bending her over and…

No, he couldn’t do that. Ignoring the ethics of it entirely, there was the matter of whether or not it was even safe. He knew there were those, especially nobles, who would essentially use summoned creatures as sex toys. But that was the kind of thing he had learned from loose talk around the school and not from the archives themselves.

In fact, there had been little mention of succubi in the archives outside of a relatively sanitized assessment of their powers and abilities. Likely the faculty kept most of that information in the restricted section, in hopes that it would keep students from attempting such summons for the wrong reasons.

Samuel lowered himself into a deep state of meditation, tuning the familiar out so that she wouldn’t be able to tempt him. As much as he wanted to converse with her some more, if for no other reason than to understand more about what she was and where she came from, he would have to let it wait until their time in isolation had elapsed.

He was vaguely aware of her continuous crunching and munching on the vegetables for a time. Still, it eventually fell away from his conscious mind as he fell deeper into his meditation.

The sound of the door opening behind him jarred him out of his trancelike state. Though it had felt like only minutes that he’d been focusing, hours had actually passed. The mental image of the thread, now a thick, vibrant rope of light, faded from his mind as he began to focus on the physical world around him. Snowball looked curiously at the open door, her nose twitching. Samuel got to his feet slowly with a groan as he stretched his arms and legs. Beyond the doors stood the slender form of Professor Shizira.

“Professor,” Samuel said with a respectful nod. “I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon. Is everything alright?”

“That remains to be seen,” the elf replied dispassionately, her gaze shifting subtly from him to Snowball. “It would seem as though your bonding was a success.”

“Yes,” he confirmed with a smile. “A little easier than I thought it would be, actually.”

The professor said nothing, though her quirked brow made him feel like she was assuming something unwholesome about the bonding process he took.

He cleared his throat before changing the subject, “What brings you here?”

“First, dismiss your familiar,” the elf instructed, “then I’m to take you to the headmaster. He would like to have a word with you.”

It felt like someone had thrown a wet blanket over him. What did the headmaster want to see him for? He’d seen the man perhaps a handful of times during his stay at the school.

Though Samuel thought of himself as a good student, he had to remember that he probably wasn’t all that remarkable in the grand scheme of things. Certainly not noteworthy enough to merit an audience with the headmaster, himself a High Summoner of the Mysterium. This spoke to just how strange his situation must have been.

Samuel nodded absently before turning his attention to Snowball, “Alright, time for you to go for a little while.”

Snowball frowned, though she seemed much more shy about speaking in front of the professor. She shook her head, itself a gesture that interested Shizira, making the professor’s eyes widen with awe.

“It won’t be for long,” Samuel assured her as he raised his hand and spoke the words of dismissal. Snowball’s physical form glowed slightly before suddenly dispersing into motes of light, like fireflies scattering to the wind, each of which flickered out of existence after a second or two. Instead of being returned to the Outer Spheres from which she’d been drawn from, her essence was placed in an extra-dimensional bubble that existed between there and the physical world.

Samuel wondered briefly if she would be lonely there, or if it would even be to her liking. The theory went that the bubble was formed from the bond and the nature of the familiar itself, ensuring that it was an environment best suited to the creature. But no Summoner had ever been inside such a place, so it was impossible to know for sure.

“Come along,” Shizira beckoned as she turned on her heel briskly to lead the way. Samuel broke into a brief jog to catch up with her, slowing once he was moving along beside her. He tried to think of something to say by way of small talk to break the tension and silence of the trip, but each time he opened his mouth to speak, nothing wanted to come out. Instead, they went the whole way without a word exchanged between them.

The headmaster was waiting for him when they arrived in the large courtyard at the center of the school grounds.

“Headmaster Udozhal,” Samuel greeted with a respectful nod. “You honor me with—”

“Yes, yes,” the headmaster said with a dismissive wave of a gnarled hand. “You may skip the formalities, dear boy. There’s no need to stand on ceremony at the moment. We are simply two Summoners now, meeting to speak on a matter of magical theory.”

“We are?” Samuel asked tentatively, thrown off entirely by his elder.

“Indeed, we are,” the headmaster confirmed before waving a hand gently in Shizira’s direction to dismiss her. “Walk with me, Lord Eamon.”

The headmaster wasn’t a large man, nor a particularly imposing one. He commanded respect through a multitude of ways that had nothing to do with bringing it constantly to people’s attention. Seeing the faculty regard him with such respect said a great deal, when each student had day-to-day experience with just how powerful each faculty member was. If the headmaster was the one they all turned to and respected, surely his power must dwarf their own. Still, Samuel found it strange that this was the man they all deferred to, himself included.

Udhozal was smaller than Samuel and of such wizened years that he wouldn’t know where to begin guessing his age. He had a large snowy white beard running down the front of his robes, bound at the end with a metal ring inscribed with some arcane writing. A pair of old spectacles balanced on a large, reddish nose. Udhozal also wore an ancient floppy cap that looked about a century out of style, and his robes appeared as though they had been laundered continuously for the better part of a century as well.

Still, something about his unassuming nature seemed like it was mostly a misdirect that would make rivals and enemies underestimate him. Either that, or it was a concerted effort to seem less intimidating to the student body when they were in his presence.

“What did you want to see me about, sir?” Samuel inquired as he walked alongside the High Summoner.

“I first wanted to congratulate you and commend you on your proving. Your approach was practical, and your summoning circle highly efficient. The focus and control you demonstrated with your array was most impressive.”

“Thank you, sir, that’s high praise indeed.” Samuel couldn’t help but feel his head swell a little bit. Receiving such a compliment from the headmaster himself was not something he expected.

“Well deserved, at that,” the older man said. Samuel realized that although he was taller and younger than Udozhal, he was actually having a hard time keeping up with him. The man seemed to glide down the path instead of shuffling the way one might expect of the elderly.

“Secondly,” he continued, “I wanted to inquire as to how your time in isolation with your familiar went. Clearly, it was successful, but perhaps you would be so kind as to illuminate me on the details?”

“Uh, yes, of course, sir,” Samuel agreed, “It was rather strange, actually. The whole situation is. But after a brief period in the chamber, my familiar actually spoke.”

The headmaster’s pace slowed as he looked up at Samuel over his spectacles with a raised brow. “Spoke?”

“Yes, sir,” Samuel confirmed, “fully-formed words. One after the other until she was combining them for coherent responses.”

“Fascinating,” Udozhal commented as he resumed his usual pace. They had crossed the courtyard now and were exiting through the east gate into the gardens. Birds sang in the trees, bathed in the sun’s rays that shone through their canopies.

“It was surprising, to say the least. I can’t say I’ve ever read about something like this happening,” Samuel added.

“No,” the headmaster said as he shook his head. “Not in a generation, at least.”

“What do you mean?” Samuel asked, confused. Something like this had happened before? Why had he not read about it somewhere? Did that mean they had some insight into what was going on?

“Your familiar—Snowball, was it? What did she say to you, exactly?” the headmaster asked, blowing past Samuel’s question entirely.

“Oh,” Samuel said with a bit of warmth in his face. “She uh… well, she was able to make clear what it was she wanted from me.”

“Which was?” The headmaster looked again at Samuel as they passed one of the larger garden fountains.

Samuel hesitated for a moment as he tried to think of the phrasing he wished to use. “It was of a sexual nature, sir. She tends to skew our interactions in that direction.”

The headmaster chuckled a little bit as he nodded. “Yes, succubi are indeed known for such behavior. I take it you did not give in to her advances just yet?”

Samuel stared back at the headmaster in complete shock, “N-no, sir!”

Udozhal raised a hand to calm the young Summoner, “Relax, Lord Eamon. I am not offering commentary nor judgment on decisions you may or may not have made in pursuing your bond. I am merely trying to gain an understanding of the sequence of events.”

“O-of course,” Samuel stammered, glancing around the garden now to see if anyone might have been listening in on the conversation. The two of them seemed to be the sole occupants of the space for the time being.

“When you performed your summoning, your intention was for a rabbit, yes?” The headmaster asked as he continued past the fountain.

“Yes, sir. I figured something relatively simple with a denser array would ensure a successful summoning. I also wanted a creature that would be easy to feed and carry around with me in order to keep a low profile.”

“Very practical of you,” the elderly man observed. “And yet you ended up with a succubus. A rather unorthodox variety of succubus as well. Have you any idea as to why that is?”

“Hmm, no sir, I don’t. I was hoping someone would be able to tell me,” Samuel confessed. “It’s my understanding that a creature like that should be well above my current skill level. In fact, I’m not even sure what the practical application of such a creature would be outside of the obviously sexual. It was the farthest thing from my mind at the time, I assure you.”

“Espionage,” the headmaster answered in a matter-of-fact tone. “Succubi, and their seductive abilities, have often been used for espionage in the past. They can be inserted into an enemy’s bed chamber to extract secrets or bend them to the Summoner’s will from a distance.”

Samuel stared back at the older man in complete silence for a moment before he glanced over at him.

“The practical application outside of the obviously sexual,” Udozhal clarified.

Samuel nodded once in vague understanding. The headmaster waved a hand.

“We’re getting off track a little bit.”

“We are?” Samuel wasn’t even sure what track they were supposed to be on.

“Indeed,” the headmaster replied, “Because of the unusual circumstances of your proving and how your power has manifested itself, we are forced to take a few unorthodox steps from here.”

They arrived at the far end of the garden, where it met with the cobblestone road that passed by in front of the school and eventually joined with the main street further south. Pedestrians walked past them, seemingly unaware or uninterested in who either of them were.

The sound of the busy road wasn’t something Samuel had been so close to in quite some time, he realized. His studies had kept him within the school walls for nearly the entire time. A motor car rattled past them, briefly honking its horn to alert pedestrians of its presence.

“What sort of unorthodox steps, sir?” Samuel asked as he followed the headmaster off the curb and into the street.

“First, we’ll be waiving the first year of missions that you would normally be required to perform to upgrade your license from probationary to ratified,” Udozhal explained. “Instead, you will be undertaking a rather specific task. You will journey north to the city of Eldruna, where you will seek out the Runescribe Elantrica Ilmora.”

Samuel’s brows furrowed as they arrived at the other side of the street. “Sir, with all due respect, I was hoping to join my father as soon as possible. I’ve worked very hard to get to this point, and he’s been expecting me for quite some time now. I was told I might do my year of missions with him.”

“I understand,” the headmaster acknowledged, placing a wrinkly hand on Samuel’s arm. “I would not be sending you on such a journey if I did not think it of the utmost importance. Birds have already been sent with messages to your father on the change of plans and to the Runescribe to expect you presently.”

“As you wish, Headmaster,” Samuel fell back on formality to suppress the frustration he was experiencing. “What am I to do once I’ve arrived?”

“That,” Udozhal held up a finger, “will be between you and Runescribe Ilmora.”

“Alright,” Samuel sighed. “Then when do I leave?”

“As soon as possible,” the headmaster returned immediately. “And to that end, I have arranged for you to be accompanied on your journey.”

Samuel raised a brow as the headmaster motioned toward the stairs of the Cathedral they now stood in front of. At the top of the stairs was a nun of the faith, waiting for them with both hands clasped in front of her. Once the headmaster had gestured in her direction, she began to descend the stairs toward the pair. She wore the standard habit of the Synod, complete with the large medallion around her neck, but the usual coif and veil were absent at the moment. She had golden-blonde hair tied into a tight bun on the back of her head and clear blue eyes that pierced through him as her gaze settled upon him.

Samuel knew those eyes. He had withered under that gaze for years of his schooling and endured untold hours of torment and mockery at the mercy of those delicate-looking hands. Seeing her in a nun’s habit, though surreal, did nothing to conceal the cold cruelty of the woman he had known growing up. She had bullied him time and again at every opportunity. It had only been the last couple of years that he had been free of her, and now—here she was again.

“Sister Aurora,” the headmaster explained, “has just finished her year of small missions and been given her first major assignment. She has been assigned to escort you to Eldruna.”

Samuel adjusted his posture to stand up more straight, squaring his shoulders in preparation for whatever scornful remark she might have for him. He was surprised to see that, in the presence of the headmaster, she thought better of speaking out of turn and held her tongue.

But much like him, her displeasure with the arrangement was plain as day on her face. Samuel imagined that his face looked much the same now that he knew he would be spending the whole journey with his childhood bully.

---

That's it from me. See you soon for a chapter post!