Reborn as a Succubus: Time To Live My Best Life!

{Isabella}

One... Two... Three...

The seconds ticked on by, each one stretching out for an eternity. All while Isabella just stared at Kimiko.

[What do I do? What do I do? What do I do? What do I...?]

That question flickered through her mind for what had to be thousands of times.

And still, Isabella couldn't figure something out. The only thing keeping her from breaking down completely was that, if Kimiko was dead, she'd only just died. Maybe, just maybe she could do something.

Blinking, she shook her head.

[What the fuck are you doing, Isabella? Heal her!]

Instantly, Isabella began moving her hands and whispering incantations.

"Vita estana mariva," she spoke, "Vita estana mariva!"

She was by no means a Life Mage but this was an emergency, so she just pulled out the first healing spell she could think of.

The wounds on Kimiko's body closed. But, she wasn't opening her eyes.

"Come on... Come on!" Isabella stopped. "Aaaagh! What...?"

Desperation began to sink in.

She looked down at her own hands.

"What do I...?"

Suddenly, a thought came to her.

Isabella stopped.

[Wait.]

She remembered.

Melisa's spell.

[Right, right, right!] Isabella thought, nodding to herself. [I-If anything can do it, that spell can. Melisa used it to save the king when he was poisoned! A-And all those nim, too! Yes!]

Isabella stopped.

[Fuck. What was the incantation? The spellsign?]

Isabella had seen it. She'd seen it more than once. But, as talented as she was, could she truly recall a spell, especially one as complex as that one, after having seen it casually cast a handful of times?

She'd have to find out. She had no other choice.

"Lumi... Lumi san..."

Isabella took a deep breath. She needed to calm down. She knew she did. Only then, would she be able to do this. She tried to remember Melisa casting it, her sweet, gentle voice speaking the words to those poor nim from before.

"Lumi sanguine... Lumi sanguine, vita crescere!"

There it was. The incantation.

Now, the spellsign.

Isabella did the same thing. She recalled Melisa's graceful hand moving through the air. Isabella had been paying close attention, each and every time she cast that spell, and she was glad she did.

Slowly, she worked through it. One motion after another, all pulled from the depths of her memory, until...

"Lumi sanguine, vita crescere!"

...

Nothing happened.

[What?] Isabella stopped.

It wasn't that the spell had no effect on Kimiko. No. It was that the spell hadn't been cast to begin with.

[But, but...] Isabella looked down at her own hands. [If I had misspoke, or drawn a part of the spellsign wrong, I would have misfired. Why...?]

A drop of blood fell from the corner of Kimiko's lips.

Isabella's eyes widened. She had no time. She had to figure this out.

[Okay, okay, think. Something made the spell not activate. Why...?]

Again, it clicked in her mind as she pressed the issue.

[Hold on, this incantation...] Isabella paused. [Lumi sanguine, vita crescere. Lumi...]

Isabella's eyes widened.

[Sanguine. Is this Blood Magic?]

She'd have to assume it was. And, based on what little she knew about Blood Magic, there was only one way to test it out. Experience tales at My Virtual Library Empire

She turned toward the countless Shadow Mage bodies in the room.

She drew her hands up, one aimed at them, collectively, the other aimed at Kimiko.

Closing her eyes, Isabella reached for the Essence lingering in the air. The Essence mixed into the scent of death.

[... Sacrifices,] she nodded to herself. [That's how Blood Magic works, right?]

She drew the spellsign. Then...

"Lumi sanguine, vita crescere!"

This time, magic!

A red aura encased her right hand.

Isabella could hear the bodies behind her... sizzling? She couldn't tell. She had her eyes fixed entirely on Kimiko.

[Come on... It worked. So, please, please, please... Come back to me.]

There was something... off about this magic.

Isabella's heart felt funny. And, soon, as the sizzling sound ceased, Isabella felt the spell beginning to eat away at her own Essence like no other spell ever had.

But, she kept her hand raised. She kept it up until she had no more Essence left to offer. And, even then, Isabella kept her hand raised, as though she could will Kimiko back to life.

"Come on..."

Isabella's lips trembled.

"Please..."

Her hand fell.

A tear escaped her left eye. Then, one from her right eye joined.

She looked away.

[... Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, f-]

"... Bella?"

Isabella froze.

She turned back.

Kimiko's eyes slowly opened.

---

{Armia}

Armia trudged down the cobblestone streets, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and emotions. The setting sun cast long shadows across the city, painting everything in shades of orange and gold.

[Damn that Isabella,] she thought, her tail twitching in agitation. [Who does she think she is, with that infuriating smirk and those... those eyes.]

She couldn't shake the image of Isabella's teasing grin, the way her green eyes had sparkled with mischief and something else. Something that made Armia's scales tingle in a way she wasn't entirely comfortable with.

[Get it together,] she chided herself. [She's just a little troublemaker. Nothing more.]

Still, Armia couldn't deny it. There was something about Isabella that got under her scales, and made her feel a certain type of way. It was infuriating. It was exhilarating. It was...

A scream cut through the air, yanking Armia out of her thoughts.

Her head snapped up, eyes wide. That scream had come from...

"Home," she whispered, her blood running cold.

Without a second thought, Armia broke into a run. Her powerful legs carried her swiftly through the streets, her heart pounding in her ears.

[Please,] she prayed to any god that might be listening. [Please let them be okay.]

As she rounded the corner onto her street, the sounds of fighting reached her ears. The clash of steel, the crackle of magic, and underneath it all, grunts of pain and exertion.

Armia's house loomed before her, a once-comforting sight now turned ominous. The front door hung off its hinges, splintered wood scattered across the threshold.

She barreled through the doorway, her eyes struggling to adjust to the dim interior. The entryway was a mess of overturned furniture and shattered decorations. And there, in the middle of it all...

"Shadow Mages," Armia growled, her voice low and dangerous.

Two black-clad figures whirled to face her, their hands already weaving spells. Armia didn't give them time to finish. With a roar that shook the very foundations of the house, she charged.

Her fist connected with the first mage's jaw, sending him flying across the room. The second managed to get off a spell, a bolt of dark energy that Armia barely dodged. She felt it sizzle past her ear, leaving a scorch mark on the wall behind her.

[No time for finesse,] she thought, grabbing a nearby chair and hurling it at the mage. It connected with a satisfying crunch, and the mage crumpled to the floor.

But Armia couldn't savor the victory. More sounds of fighting echoed from deeper in the house.

"Father!" she yelled, racing towards the back of the house. "Darien!"

She burst into the kitchen, and her heart nearly stopped.

Her father was locked in combat with two more Shadow Mages. His sword flashed in the fading light, keeping the attackers at bay. But Armia could see the fatigue in his movements, the way his left arm hung limply at his side.

"Armia!" he shouted, parrying a vicious strike. "Get out of here!"

Instead of replying, Armia let out another ear-splitting roar and threw herself into the fray. She wasn't even thinking about magic, feeling way too much adrenaline.

She tackled one of the mages from behind, driving them both to the ground. They grappled on the floor, rolling over broken dishes and splinters of wood. Armia felt a sharp pain in her side – a knife, she realized dimly – but the pain only fueled her rage.

With a grunt of effort, she pinned the mage beneath her. Her fist came down once, twice, three times. The mage's mask cracked, revealing a face twisted in pain and fear.

A cry from her father made Armia's head snap up. The other mage had disarmed him, and was moving in for the kill.

"No!" Armia bellowed.

She snatched up a broken chair leg and hurled it with all her might. It struck the mage in the back of the head, sending him stumbling forward. Her father seized the opportunity, grabbing the mage's wrist and twisting. There was a sickening crack, and the mage's spell fizzled out.

In moments, it was over. The two Shadow Mages lay unconscious on the floor, and a heavy silence fell over the kitchen.

Armia stood, her chest heaving. She looked to her father, relief washing over her.

"Father," she said, moving towards him. "Are you alright?"

He nodded grimly, though Armia could see the pain in his eyes.

"I'll live. But Armia, your brother..."

Armia's blood ran cold. In the heat of the fight, she'd almost forgotten.

"Darien?" she called out, her voice echoing in the sudden quiet. "Darien, where are you?"

No answer came.

With growing dread, Armia made her way deeper into the house. She checked each room, her heart pounding louder with each empty space she found.

Finally, she reached Darien's room. The door was ajar, a dark smear marring its surface.

[No,] Armia thought, her hand trembling as she pushed the door open. [Please, no.]

The room was a disaster. Books and papers were strewn everywhere, the desk overturned. And there, in the center of it all...

"Darien," Armia whispered, her voice breaking.

Her brother lay motionless on the floor, his eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling. A pool of dark blood spread out beneath him, soaking into the carpet.

Armia fell to her knees beside him, her mind refusing to accept what her eyes were telling her. She reached out, her hand shaking, and touched Darien's cheek. It was cold.

"No," she said, louder this time. "No, no, no. Darien, wake up. Please, wake up."

But Darien didn't move. Didn't blink. Didn't do anything but lie there, growing colder by the second.

A sound escaped Armia's throat, halfway between a roar and a sob.

[What the hell...?]

---

{Melisa}

Melisa sat at her desk, her brow furrowed in concentration as she traced spellsigns in the air. Faint trails of purple energy followed her fingertips, dissipating like smoke in the dim light of her room.

[Okay, let's try this again,] she thought, taking a deep breath.

"Lumi sanguine, vita crescere."

The air shimmered, a small orb of reddish light forming between her palms. Melisa grinned, feeling a surge of pride.

She was just doing a bit of casual practicing. Outside, rain pattered against the window, creating a soothing backdrop to her practice. Melisa glanced out at the gloomy Syux skyline, her mind wandering.

[At least the quarantine's been lifted,] she mused. [Though I'm not sure if that's good news or bad news at this point.]

Her thoughts drifted to Zephyra. The court sorceress was supposed to have left Syux by now, but after the whole "queen dying mysteriously" debacle, she was more or less stuck here.

[Silver lining, I guess. More magical tutoring for me. Though I could do without the whole "kingdom on the brink of chaos" thing.]

Melisa sighed, letting the spell fizzle out. She stretched, her back popping satisfyingly.

[I wonder where Javir is,] she thought idly. [Probably still in her office. And Jaylin's probably training, because of course she is. That girl needs a hobby that doesn't involve trying to kick my ass.]

A wry smile tugged at Melisa's lips as she thought of her parents. They were... well, busy.

Very busy.

And loud.

[At least they're having a good time.]

Suddenly, a series of hard, frantic knocks echoed through the house. Melisa jumped, her heart racing.

[What the fuck?]

The knocking continued, growing more insistent with each passing second.

[Okay, okay, I'm coming! Jesus.]

Melisa made her way downstairs, grumbling under her breath.

"If this is some door-to-door salesman, I swear I'm gonna turn them into a toad."

She reached the front door just as another volley of knocks began. Melisa yanked it open, ready to give whoever it was a piece of her mind.

The words died in her throat.

Isabella stood on the doorstep, soaked to the bone. Rain plastered her pink hair to her face, mixing with what Melisa realized with a jolt were tears.

"Izzy?" Melisa breathed, her irritation evaporating instantly. "What's wrong? What happened?"

Isabella's usual cocky grin was nowhere to be seen. Her green eyes, usually so full of mischief, were equal parts angry and haunted.

"We need to talk."