Bound in Spirals Ch. 06

Author's Note:

Still no sex, but it will appear soon. Probably chapter 8 or 9 at this point.

Major thanks to my editor, Ed! He's helped me a lot with some good suggestions, along with fixing the numerous typos and grammatical errors that I tend to miss on my own.

All aspects of this story are fictional. Any resemblances to real people are entirely coincidental. All characters participating in sexual acts are 18 years of age or above.

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Sam wheezed heavily, trying to breathe despite the excruciating pain pulsing out with every little movement. The sword in his back left everything below it paralyzed. He should have passed out from the pain by now, but somehow his magic seemed to be keeping him conscious. Whether or not that was a good thing... He wasn't sure. His mind seemed to be drifting on the edge of lucidity, and he couldn't think straight at all.

'Does it hurt?' Letta's voice in his head made him smile faintly, though it was partially him gritting his teeth. His strained groan was the only response he could give. 'Hold on master, I will pull it out for you.'

He clamped his eyes shut as she gently rolled him over with her massive, wet nose. The narrow sword's tip held his chest off the ground by a few inches, still embedded in his sternum. With each breath he took, it felt as though a new sword was stabbing him through the spine. The pain made him want to scream and cry, but not a single tear came.

"AaaaAAAAAAAGH!!" He howled as he felt the blade pull from him. A few tears finally did come out then. The healing seemed to take hours as he lay there unmoving. His magic felt different somehow. As though there was a funnel that kept shrinking, the magic pouring out in smaller and smaller amounts. Even after the hole in his chest had sealed, he seemed to feel a phantom pain remaining there.

He began to push himself up, but his elbows buckled and he slapped back down against the packed earth. 'Th-Thank you, Letta. I was certain I would die there.' He mumbled to her mentally.

'I need no thanks, master. I only did what is expected of a familiar.' She said, sounding meek.

'Letta, please don't... don't call me master anymore. Please just act the way you did before, we are... we are even now.' Sam replied dazedly. Distantly he felt his relief replaced by sadness and guilt. 'Call me Sam. Or pup, even! Just no more 'master' crap.'

'I, I... Yes, Sam... I will try to do so.' She said apprehensively.

Sam tried to push himself up again, but only managed to roll onto his back. For a while he just stared up at her huge black eyes. 'Just... Well, you're my friend now Letta, and it doesn't feel right to have you being all submissive to me. I would like it a lot more if you treated me as an equal.' He said finally.

'I have never had a friend before... Is there a certain way I should act?' Letta asked, cocking her head to the side, the universal sign of canine curiosity. Sam felt like laughing at the sight. It was surprisingly cute, considering how terrifying she was normally capable of being.

'Ugh... My mind... I need to focus...' He thought. He peered into those black eyes, seeing the distant whorls of golden power like miniature galaxies in the depths. 'Well... truth be told, I haven't had a real friend since my dad died when I was 12. But... I think mainly it's about being able to trust the other person, I guess. You always help each other out without having to worry about owing them or anything, it's just what you do because you care for them.' He said, his eyelids sagging heavily.

'Okay, I think I understand now.' She replied, and gave what appeared to be a small nod.

Suddenly, Letta's ears perked up and she crouched over Sam, her head staring intently down the direction he'd come from. Her lips rose, baring the dagger like white teeth. Her growl shook the air, sending rumbling vibrations through him.

Sam lifted his head just enough to see what was causing her reaction. 'Letta... it's al...it's alright. They aren't bad.' He said, letting his head thump back down. His thoughts were still muddled, and he felt like he was getting drunk. Lorry and Mother Ranlenn were standing there at the mouth of the alley, gaping. Letta settled back hesitantly, still watching them attentively as she sat down next to Sam.

Mother Ranlenn was carrying a wooden crate that clinked with glass as she stepped forward, carefully skirting the rubble that remained of the fountain. Lorry remained standing where she was, staring at Letta, though her gawking had been replaced by a look of curiosity. Mother Ranlenn set down the crate wordlessly, and she examined one of the knives that had been left behind by the Anged'der.

She licked the blade and spat immediately. Her head whirled toward him and her eyes widened visibly. "These blades were lathered with wheel flower oil..." When Sam didn't respond she went on, "It temporarily takes away the ability to access your magic pool, and should have knocked you out! It seems that it did not effect you. Or rather, it did not effect you as intended. I can see that you are losing your grasp on it gradually now."

Sam nodded weakly. That must have been the reason he felt so weak, and so tired. She pulled out two small vials and unstoppered them. "These will help to reverse the effects." She said, and held them to Sam's mouth. He opened wide and she poured in a few drops of each of the liquids.

He immediately coughed as his throat began to burn, like he'd swallowed something that was too hot. The feeling settled in his chest and he clawed at it, gasping. It almost felt as though his heart was on fire, burning him from the inside out. Then, as suddenly as it came, it ceased. He laid there wheezing as Mother Ranlenn looked down at him impassively. It felt as though the fire had burned away every trace of the fatigue that had plagued him just moments before.

"What... the hell... was that?" He muttered between breaths.

"Sorry. Perhaps I should have warned you. It does burn a bit, doesn't it? Well, it can't be helped, blue weed tends to do that. The dellit oil should have soothed that by now and reenergized you, right?" She started rambling to herself about other methods she could have used, but Sam had stopped listening.

The metaphorical funnel gradually began to widen until his magic was flowing into him regularly. The forms on his skin began writhing wildly, lighting the shade provided by Letta. It looked like the light was being refracted through spinning crystals as it came to life. Sam reluctantly released it as it began to cause his mind to stray to disturbing fancies.

He breathed deeply and paused in pushing himself up as he saw the renewed looks of amazement on the women's faces. Sam also thought he might have seen a flash of fear in those gazes just before he let go of his power.

"Why... H-How did you find me?" Sam asked, the question suddenly occurring to him. He stood, trying to ignore the heat in his cheeks as the women stared at him. Seemingly reappraising him, they looked him up and down. "Uh... Hello?" He waved, trying to get their attention.

"Hm? Oh, heh, well..." Lorry started, finally seeming to realize what she was doing. "I, well, I had Neril follow you. When you said you were going to look on your 'mode of transportation' after telling a story of how your winnem had died... I was curious." She blushed slightly as she spoke.

Neril, the small beige cat, hesitantly came out of the alley, glancing cautiously at Letta as it loped over to Lorry. Letta was staring at the cat with an intensity that Sam hadn't seen from her before. He frowned, 'Letta, what's up? Why're you staring at him like that?'

'I... I wish to chase him.' She said, and Sam did a double take. Her tail was flicking playfully behind her as she watched the terrified looking cat. 'May I, Sam?'

He was dumbfounded. 'What? No! That's Lorry's familiar! Besides, we've done enough damage to the town for one day, don't you think?' Letta turned her head to him, a look of defiance in her eyes. 'Letta, no. Please don't, if one of those other cat's were here, maybe, but not Neril.'

'Very well.' She replied sullenly, turning away.

"Sorry about lying to you earlier, but I felt that she was a secret I'd be better off keeping at the time." Sam said, rubbing the back of his head. He continued, turning to Mother Ranlenn, "Would you mind taking a look at her wounds from the slime, Mother Ranlenn? She didn't get it as bad as Theodore, but I'm still worried."

"Huh? Oh yes, yes of course." She said and started rummaging through her crate of supplies. "And, you may call me Felenna. It still feels strange when the townspeople call me Mother. Honestly, I do not really like it much. Makes me feel old." She began muttering to herself as she began circling Letta's paws, examining the scabbed wounds.

'Letta, she is the one who helped Theodore. I think we can trust her.' Sam said. 'And, Lorry is helping me get supplies. We will be leaving Eltinn tonight.'

Letta made an attempt at what seemed to be a sigh, but it ended up sounding more like a snort. 'You are so naive, pup. You cannot just trust someone because they help you once or twice. You will be stabbed in the back that way.'

'I... Yeah, you're probably right. I will try to be careful about that.' Sam replied, scratching at the patchy hair on his cheek. 'I also need to learn to fight properly, I've had too many close calls. I don't suppose you would know anything about fighting with a sword, do you?'

'No, I only know what I have seen men do. I find your little metal teeth to be trivial most of the time. However,' she continued, 'I believe that the Samson inside your head might be an exception. When he took control of your body... I was surprised, to say the least.'

Sam felt his teeth clench as he was reminded of Samson. He felt like growling. 'I will have to think about that. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't still bothered by how he ditched his friend when he was in need.' Sam sighed softly, and he rubbed his temples. 'Though, I do think I understand why he did it, it still makes me mad. I don't know, Letta.'

'Well, you do not have to enjoy his presence, just use him to teach you the sword.'

'Alright, I think I will do that then.' Sam said resignedly, trying to bring his thoughts back to what was currently happening. Lorry was glancing back and forth between him and Letta. He chuckled. 'I think she is wondering what we are saying. She's some sort of expert on familiars.'

'Ah, I thought she was watching a drakkelfer that I could not see.' Letta replied, then attempted to laugh.

'Was that a joke? What's a drakkelfer?' Sam asked.

'Oh yes, I forgot again that you are new to this world.' She said, sounding disappointed for some reason. 'A drakkelfer is a little prickly creature that dashes back and forth when a predator is near. They are fast and difficult to eat.'

Sam laughed, imagining Letta chasing this drakkelfer around. 'So, it seems you have a sense of humor.' He said, grinning widely. She imitated his grin, baring her enormous canines, and he started laughing again. Lorry stared at him incredulously. "What, your familiar doesn't make jokes?" He asked her, still smiling. "Pretty shitty familiar if you ask me. No offense Neril."

Lorry just continued looking at him as if he was a madman, and Neril barely spared him a glance before returning to his wary monitoring of Letta. "How can you make jokes after what just happened? You nearly died!"

Sam shrugged indifferently. "I dunno. Maybe I'm still delirious, or in shock perhaps." He shook his head. "I guess I'm just happy to be alive. Strange... I haven't felt that in a long time I think." Lorry looked at him worriedly, but didn't say more.

"Alright, I have done what I can here. Her wounds were mostly shallow, and uninfected. They seem to be healing fairly quickly as well. They look almost two weeks old, but it has only been a few days according to what you told me." Fenella said, rubbing her chin thoughtfully as she looked at Letta's forepaws again.

"Ah, that is due to the familiar bond." Lorry cut in. "Depending on how strong the binding is, a familiar may develop certain benefits through it. Along with quicker healing, it increases mental capacity. There are also occasionally a few less noticeable enhancements or abilities, but they are rare and often unnoticeable. I do not know much of them personally, as none of my familiars have developed those."

"Huh, interesting..." Sam muttered, then looked up. "Just out of curiosity, what would happen if a familiar was bonded twice?"

Lorry looked startled by the question somehow. "Um, I am not sure. When passing a bond on to another person there are no changes I'm aware of, but I have not heard of a case of someone re-bonding a severed familiar. Why do you ask?"

Sam flinched slightly. "Aha, well ah... Lucy here," he said, gesturing to Letta, "said she'd been bonded in the past. I just wondered if maybe the benefits doubled up on top of each other or something."

"Well, it is believed that the physical benefits are linked directly to magic, so I doubt it. Though, perhaps the mental capacity would be effected, since that is not affected after severing. It is a good question to think upon..." Lorry said, looking up at Letta curiously. "If you notice anything strange, I would be interested to hear of it."

"Ah, certainly." Sam said, forcing out a laugh. "I doubt I'll notice anything before I leave tonight, though..."

"Oh, you're leaving tonight..." She mumbled, sounding disappointed. "Well, perhaps I could join you! I needed to be leaving Eltinn soon anyways, so it would work."

"No!" Sam said, surprising himself with his forcefulness. He calmed himself and continued, "I mean, I would prefer to keep it to just Theodore and I. We need to travel quickly, and Le-Lucy is having a hard time as it is with her wounds."

He knew it was a weak argument as soon as it came out. He didn't really want to hurt her feelings, but after what had happened earlier, he just couldn't look at her without being reminded of his stepmother. 'I can't... I just, I need to leave that life behind...' He thought, trying to convince himself he was making the right choice.

"Oh... Yes, of course. I understand..." Lorry said, and he knew she'd seen through his words.

"Well, since that is settled, let's go back now." Fenella said, relieving Sam of the awkwardness that had started to build. "We will eat at my house."

'Letta, I will meet you at the lake tonight. Try not to get yourself into too much trouble.' Sam said, turning toward the imposing, gray wolf.

She snorted loudly. 'I was about to say the same to you, pup.' She replied and bared her teeth again in that menacing smile. Sam laughed softly as she rose and began to trot away, following the cleared path she left before. With that, the other three began to head back. Careful to avoid the more dangerous parts of the slums, unlike Sam had on the way there.

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Hennel knew he'd won as soon as his strike connected, the wooden practice sword cracking loudly against the thin leather armor. Deredd grunted as his left hip failed under him, and by the time he looked up again Hennel had his weapon held to his neck.

"Alright alright, I've had enough humiliation for one day." Deredd said, using his sword to help pick himself up. "Sometimes I wish I had friends who weren't sword masters, so I could win for once."

Hennel laughed as he clapped his friend on the shoulder. "No need to be sullen, Deredd. You can only improve by fighting a challenging opponent."

"Then why don't you practice with someone who's better than you, Hennel? Where has Darrel gotten off to?" Deredd asked, his voice becoming whinier as he went on.

Hennel sighed. "Darrel has accompanied Dettella to direct her guard while she is away. They left this morning, and it is unlikely he will be returning anytime soon, as far as I am aware."

Deredd started muttering under his breath and Hennel only caught a few words. "... Damned... I swear... Leaving me... Deal with..." He pulled on his purple coat and cloak roughly, still grunting and mumbling as he trudged toward the gate.

Hennel shook his head and chuckled to himself as he pulled on his own coat. Deredd stumbled as his oversized cloak caught in the gate hinge and cursed loudly as he tore the fabric. Hennel couldn't help but laugh aloud as his friend tramped away. "Blight you, Prince of stone widdels!" He shouted at Hennel, shaking a fist as he turned.

'I can always trust him to lift my spirits. Even if it is at the cost of his dignity.' He thought, straightening the silver trimmed lapels of his high guard uniform. Despite his rather rough edged personality, Deredd was an honest man beneath it all, and loyal to a fault. Unfortunately, his good mood did not last long. 'I wonder how Dettella is fairing right now... Gah, that is the thousandth time I've thought that in the last hour! Barely gone for half a day and I can already feel the gray hair growing.'

He sighed again, as he buckled on his felnn metal sword. A make of sword only granted to the elite swordsmen of the land. It was deceptively light to the person bound to it, but to anyone else it would be impossible to wield. The weight of it would take six men to lift, and that was only the bare minimum required to do so. As he adjusted the curved scabbard on his hip, Hennel felt like a missing piece of himself had just been put back.

He rested his left hand on the intricately carved pommel that depicted the head of a whip falcon, it's curved beak lined with dagger-like teeth. Beginning to stride toward the gate, Hennel felt a strange feeling. Like there was an itch between his shoulder blades. He tried to shrug it off, but the sensation only grew stronger as he walked through the open gate.

Twitching slightly, he suddenly had a bad feeling. Something was about to happen. That was all he could tell. Something was going to happen, very soon. What was this 'something' though? Hennel tensed as he glided down the open passage, glancing between the grand marble pillars that lined the right side.

He gave a slight smile to the red haired maidservant who was heading in the opposite direction. She curtsied in her simple brown dress and returned the smile, showing off some very white teeth. Hennel shuddered as he passed her, that smile had never met those blue eyes. 'Odd,' he thought, 'I don't think I've ever seen such immaculate teeth on one who wasn't a noble.'

Suddenly, his instincts kicked in, and all thought slipped from his head. He ducked as he caught a glimpse of light reflecting onto the pillar next to him. A knife whipped past his left ear, nicking the tip of it. He spun, ripping his sword from it's sheath as he pivoted, and swung. Metal clanged against metal as his blade struck the next knife out of the air as it was headed straight for his neck.

The woman, no... The assassin, caught the deflected blade from the air. She led the blade in an impossibly graceful twist between thumb and forefinger, and it was headed straight for his heart now in that fraction of a second. Hennel turned sideways, slipping between the knife and pillar. Already, the grinning assassin was flinging another blade at him.

Hennel leapt forward. His metallic, purple tinted sword arcing forward with extreme precision. Knife met sword and the shrill, ear piercing screech of metal bending made the woman wince. A ruined knife clattered against the polished stone floor. Sharp, dark blue patterns seemed to flicker about on the flat of Hennel's curved felnn blade as he struck.

She howled in pain as her legs were cut from beneath her. Blood sprayed outward, and she hurled a fourth knife at him through the shower of crimson as she fell. He leapt back, and tried to deflect the knife but it was too near his hands. He couldn't move quick enough. It took a moment for Hennel to register the pain in his stomach.