Into the Caves

You shake your head at your foolishness. Last night has made you doubt even Glenda. You smile down at her fondly and nod. “You are right, sister. We should check every possibility. Thank you.”

“Want me go first?” the imp asks enthusiastically, zipping about overhead, his cock waving obscenely like an eager dog’s tale. “I can scout. Be back quick!”

You shoot him a glare and pull Glenda against you protectively. “Don’t think I’m satisfied with your answers for last night,” you warn. “I wager you had more than a little to do with the idea of corrupting those slimes.”

“No. Never fire hair,” the imp quickly says, his wings flapping rapidly with nervousness. “All their idea. Me only victim. You save me! Swear!”

You scoff. “As if a demon’s word were worth a thing. Come Glenda. Let’s go.”

Glenda nods wearily. Tenderness washes over you and you pull her naked flesh against your own. She has a lighter tone of skin than your slightly bronzed tint, and your figure is also larger than hers, meaning she nestles against you comfortably. With Glenda pressed against you with one hand and the other holding tight the comforting steel of the Saint’s Sword, you venture forward into the darkness of the caves.

Centuries of tides washing back and forth have smoothed the floor to a largely flat surface, but as the light peeking through the cavern behind you fades you slow your pace, lest the unexpected take you. The only sound is that of the ocean waves, their echoes creeping through the deepening dark like a warning whisper, fading and rising with each moment, yet even that soon begins to fall away. By the time the last of the natural light is gone, all that remains is the regular slap of your feet and the beat of the imp’s wings as he flies behind you. Being unable to see the demon makes your heart beat faster in fear and you whisper a quick novice’s prayer.

“Oh Virgin’s Rose, I beseech you. Light my path with your sacred light.”

The imp hisses something and flaps back as fingers of white flame envelop you. Like ivy they climb about your naked body, a gentle shudder coursing through your flesh at their warmth. They do not burn, but the heat is real, and with it comes the sensation of satisfaction, of knowing you do as the goddess bids, like warm and loving arms of a mother about you. Its light is meagre but sufficient, illuminating the space several feet ahead, though no further, and now, with confidence, you forge onward.

The caves reach far. Farther than you imagined. They narrow and widen seemingly at whim, expanding into jaw dropping halls of stone and pillared stalactites, with fathomless drops crossed only by narrow paths, then tightening until you have to walk sideways just to squeeze through the cracks in the stone face of walls. But they reach farther, and you are never at a loss for where to go, for the way forward is lit ever by the white flame which coils about you, as if the goddess herself guides you.

You had noticed lately that the air had begun to grow warmer. Not like a humidity of hot springs, but rather a oppressive warmth, like the heat of a living thing. It makes you feel uneasy, and your skin crawls despite the coils of holy flame which wrap about you. Squeezing through a passage you find yourself in a broad chamber, the wall to your left just skirting a wide pool of dark water that your holy flame glows against like a mirror. There is the faint sound of dripping water from somewhere further in, and small ripples spread across the pond from some unknown source. The heat is thickest here, and had you still clothes you likely would have had to strip. As it is sweat begins to bead your body, crawling down the curves of your figure and making your skin flush with warmth.

You try to press on but quickly realize Glenda is not with you. You stop and turn to see her lean over the waters and peers at their reflective surface. She is at the edge of the light which wraps around you, her pale figure looking almost ghostly against the sunless darkness of the cave.

“Come Glenda,” you say curtly. “We must move on.”

“Must we?” she wonders aloud, blinking her almond eyes. She straightens and stretches, jutting her petite breasts out as she throws her slender arms back. She holds the position a moment, her taut body strained and you blink as if seeing something in the shadows against her figure, but then she releases with a gasp and you see nothing changed. “I am tired sister,” she says. “Might we not relax in the water? At least for a little while?”

“We should keep going,” you say.

“Not safe here,” the imp says, flapping above. He sniffs the air with his beak-like nose. “Keep moving fire hair.”

Glenda huffs and sits down at the water’s edge. “Well, I think I deserve a break.”

“Don’t be childish,” you say.

“I’m not. You’re the one taking advice from a demon and not me.”

“Leave her fire hair,” the imp says, flapping near you. “Me and you go on. I protect you!”

You frown, narrowing your eyes at the elf as she slides her toes beneath the dark surface of the waters, seemingly utterly unconcerned for you and your erstwhile companion.