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  • Bound in Spirals Ch. 08

Bound in Spirals Ch. 08

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Author's Note:

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.

This chapter is a little bit longer than the previous ones. Enjoy!

—————

Sam turned his gaze from the elves to look at the bewildered creature in front of him. Belleby looked up at him, orange eyes full of fear and confusion. 'Sorry buddy, but I have to take advantage of you so I can survive. Don't worry though, I'll let you go as soon as I'm safely back with my friends. My friend is in dire need of healing so I can't take chances here.' At his words, Belleby just tilted his head in confusion. 'Ah, right.' Sam thought, and repeated his words in elvish.

'O-Okay, I understand...' Belleby replied, his voice surprisingly small.

Sam nodded and turned back to the elves. "Belleby says he understands my wishes, and will comply."

The blonde haired elf on the right looked at Belleby with disgust. "Traitorous beast, we'll just kill you with him."

Belleby shrunk back as the woman strode toward him purposefully. He trembled as he cowered down against the cave wall. All four children rushed forward at once. They all began babbling in a frenzy.

"Momma stop!" "You mustn't hurt him, auntie!" "Auntie, I will never talk to you again!"

The oldest jumped in front of the woman and barred her way, her jaw set in a stubborn expression. "If you do not stop, then I will run away and never come back! You will lose your heir and I will go to live with the humans!"

At that, the woman finally stopped, a look of horror coming over her face. "Feima, you wouldn't dare!"

"Yes, I would! So you better stop and listen to what he says. Okay?" Feima said, her tone coming off more as petulant than defiant, but it would serve his purposes well enough.

"Fine, we will listen. But don't blame me if he kills the stupid beast anyway." Feima's mother said through clenched teeth.

Sam quickly decided to go with the kind and amicable route, rather than the threatening one. The latter seemed more likely to bite him in the ass down the road. These elves already thought humans were savages as it was, no reason to make them feel that they were right.

"I only wish to get my friend the healing he needs. I don't mean to cause any trouble, I will happily release Belleby once I am assured of my friend's safety." Sam said, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "My friend lost both his legs to a slime in the misty plains down south. So, I brought him here, knowing the elves were the only people that could help."

Feima and the other children looked to the adults, there eyes gleaming with worry at how they would answer. The adults glanced at each other, then looked back to Sam. They were clearly still angry at the turn of the situation, but they'd calmed down considerably.

Feima's mother took the lead and spoke, "That will require a team of A class mages, and the closest place you'll find that is the capital. The cost would be cheaper if you went to Fienedel, but it is considerably further away."

Sam thought, watching Belleby as he stepped to Feima and nuzzled her hand with his snout. 'Hey, you got any tips for, er... negotiations? Like how to make them not hate me or anything?' He asked Belleby.

'I-I'm not sure... My memory is a bit fuzzy for anything beyond when you made me a familiar. Mostly just thoughts of playing, I think.' Belleby said, sounding confused.

'Ah, that's probably because your thought capacity is increased when you become a familiar. It will remain that way after I release you as well.' Sam replied somewhat absently as he turned back to Feima's mother. "I will take your word for it. Er, do you mind taking these ropes off of me?"

"You can keep the ropes on. We will bring you to the city as is, so we know you won't just set your beast on us once you're safe." She replied.

"But that'll take way too long!" Sam insisted, suddenly worried.

"No, if we take the underground road we can get there just as fast as your argwolf could." She said disdainfully. "We will bring your friend with us, your pet can wait here for your return."

Sam sighed. 'This is becoming a real pain in the ass...' "Very well, but I'll need to get my friend, along with my possessions."

"We will retrieve your friend, after you send your argwolf away first." She replied suspiciously.

"Fine." Sam said and tried to contact Letta. It appeared that she was either too far away, or asleep. "I will have to get closer to be able talk to her."

The woman's grunt in response seemed to neither accept nor deny. "We will remain here for the night and go in the morning." The other adults nodded in agreement and started setting out bedrolls.

Sam just watched silently as the children started wrestling around with Belleby, seemingly unaware of their parents' tension. One of them had found his sword and was swinging it around clumsily.

"Graenil! Put that down!" One of the blonde haired adults said. Sam was having a hard time telling the two apart, they could've been twins. She snatched the sword from the little boy's hands and glowered at Sam, as if he'd given it to him to play with.

Sam shifted around and released his sheathe's binding from his back. It clunked onto the rocky floor. "You can put it in that." He said, nodding to the black leather sheath.

The woman grabbed it, watching him with wary eyes. "Alright, time for sleep you bunch, you've already stayed up long enough." She said as she fumbled the sword into the sheath. The children groaned and began to protest, but the woman just ignored them. "Who'll take the first watch?"

"Can I do it?" Feima asked eagerly, looking to her mother for an answer.

The woman hesitated a moment, "...Very well, but if that man so much as blinks strangely you wake us up. After three hours wake me up to take a turn. Understand?"

"Yes, mother." Feima said, and sat down on her bedroll. She watched him with an intense focus, while petting Belleby's broad, flat head. The creature purred contentedly.

After what felt like an hour, the adults and the other children were asleep. Sam looked around the cave, feeling unsettled. He thought he'd find something at least somewhat interesting in the cave, something to distract his mind with, but it was just a bunch of carved out rock with no distinguishing features.

A cold chill ran over his back, where his shirt had been torn open, and he wished he had his coat. The adrenaline of earlier had faded and now he felt unsure of himself. Afraid, even. It shouldn't have been surprising really, but he'd thought that maybe he was just stronger now. Apparently that hadn't been the case. He felt himself glancing over at the adult elves with increasing frequency, fearing their waking.

'H-Hey... Wh-What happened?' Samson's voice rang in his head, and Sam stiffened.

Feima looked at him closely, "What are you doing?"

"A-Ah, just a bit cold is all. My shirt is all torn open and I can't reach it, to fix it." Sam explained quickly. The girl nodded tentatively, still watching him closely. 'Samson! Where have you been?'

'I-I don't know what happened, when you were hit I just felt myself lose consciousness. When I recovered, I was almost lost in the void. Fortunately, I was able to find your magic again fairly quickly. What has happened?'

Sam explained what had occurred since his waking. 'Elves, huh? Wouldn't expect them to be so openly aggressive as that, usually they're more of the passive aggressive type. I get a bad feeling about this situation, it might be best to try to get out of their grasp. These could be part of some racist faction. By racist, I mean the type that'd be likely to kill you, not the call you names type. Most elves are the latter as it is.'

'You really think so? They haven't killed me yet. Though, admittedly they were planning to do so.' Sam replied, frowning. 'I was just gonna let them take us to the capital.'

'Yes, I wouldn't recommend that. As soon as you let go of the familiar, they'll kill you, no hesitation. Not after you outwitted them like that, elves are very proud and don't take kindly to that sort of thing.' Samson statement resonated with his conviction.

'Alright, what do you think I should do?' Sam asked.

'Why're you asking me? I've never been in a situation like this before.' Samson replied with an irksome lack of concern.

'Goddammit, you're supposed to be the one who knows what he's doing!'

'I never made such a claim, that's just what you assumed.' Samson said indignantly.

Sam suppressed a sigh, and began wracking his mind for a means of escape. He looked around discreetly, only moving his head if he had to. His sword lay 15 feet away, next to the sleeping, blonde elf. He looked down at his bound wrists and ankles, wondering how he could get the rope off of them without raising the alarm. At that moment he wished he'd gotten sever magic rather than bind magic.

It was another half an hour before he thought he had a decent plan, though it depended on a lot of unreliable ideas. Nevertheless, he pushed on despite his fears.

"H-Hey, um Feima, was it? Would you mind allowing me to remove my shirt? It's torn open in the back and I'm getting cold. I-I just want to try and fix it with my magic real quick." He whispered to the girl who had been annoyingly vigilant. She frowned, glancing toward her mother, clearly debating if it was alright. "If you want, you can hold a knife to my throat while I pull it off. Better safe than sorry."

"Ahh, very well. But you'll have to do it with your hands tied." She replied after a few moments of thought.

"Y-Yeah, that's fine. I just need to be able to touch it really." He said, feeling a small spark of relief when she agreed. It was good that she wasn't quite as suspicious as her mother. He didn't get his hopes up yet though.

He held out his bound wrists as she stood and quietly approached. She crouched down, her right hand touching the hilt of a knife in her belt. Her brown leather pants creaked softly as she knelt and her billowy, flannel shirt tickled his forearms. After a second of fidgeting with it, the roped was undone. Sam moved his hands to the bottom hem of his shirt slowly, not wanting to cause alarm. Pulling it up and over his torso, he set it down before him.

When he looked to her again, he realized that Feima was staring at his numerous scars. She didn't even notice when he held his hands back out for her. "Hey, you can tie me back up now."

She jumped slightly when he spoke and her cheeks colored, visible even in the dim light of the cave. "I- ah, sorry. I didn't mean to stare." Feima quickly retied his hands, and shuffled back to her bedroll.

He spread out his shirt, the blue fabric shredded and stained slightly green. 'Samson, do you think this could actually work?'

'Hell if I know. My magic training wasn't very extensive. I was drafted into the army, before I got anywhere really good. It probably is, might be pretty difficult with no practice though.' Samson replied, still sounding annoyingly relaxed. 'I mean, both human magics are a bit more complex than their names really imply. But, you did manage to create a familiar bond on your first try, after having only seen it done once. What I'm trying to say, is that I have no idea.'

'A lot of help you are. Now beat it, your presence is distracting.' Sam said, his anxiety starting to get to him. Samson's presence seemed to move away, though still within range in case Sam needed him.

Power flooded into him as he pressed his fingers to the leftmost tear. He began to bind it together, trying to do it slowly. Shifting his focus, he forced his intentions into the power, shifting a small thread of intertwined swirls. It was so faint that Sam failed to see it at first as it snaked out from under the shirt.

'Phew, it's going well so far.' As soon as he thought it, the line started to fade rapidly. Then, it was gone. "Shit."

"What was that?" Feima asked, hearing his whispered curse. Sam glanced up at her, seeing her staring at his scars again.

"Ah, I j-just messed up a little bit. That's all." He replied with a soft, nervous laugh. He was relieved when she just nodded distractedly.

'What is so interesting about my scars?' He wondered as he looked down at his torso with a frown. 'That's odd... Why are the forms dimmer on my torso? Ah, is it because I'm directing it through my arms?' Sam suddenly clenched his teeth, 'Agh, that doesn't matter right now! Focus!'

He began weaving another thin thread with his right hand, repairing his shirt with the left. The line started inching to his right, towards the group of sleeping elves. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Feima stifle a yawn. 'That's a good sign.'

"Do you have a name human?" Feima asked suddenly.

'Goddammit, I'm not ready for the small talk yet!' He thought and winced as the thread began to fade again. He refocused his efforts and the thread retained it's form. A bead of sweat rolled down Sam's forehead.

"Did you not hear me? I asked your name." Feima said, sounding annoyed.

'Damn brat. Give me a break for a minute.' Sam thought. His voice was strained when he spoke, "Sorry. M-My name? Ah, uh, right. It... It's Sam."

"I'll forgive you this time, but make sure you answer next time." She said with satisfaction.

'Fuck off.' "O-Of course." A drop of sweat fell from his nose.

"...Don't you want to know my name?" She asked when he didn't continue.

"It's Feima. I heard it earlier." He replied. The thread disappeared again.

'FUUUUCK!' Sam barely resisted the urge to crawl over and punch her. Instead, he took a deep breath. 'It might've been better if one of the adults was watching, at least they wouldn't talk to me... But, then again they wouldn't have let me remove my shirt in the first place.'

He looked up to see her fidgeting, still staring at the scars on his chest. 'What the hell is wrong with you?' He shook his head to clear it.

"You remembered it after hearing it one time?" She asked, a faint flush creeping into her cheeks. Sam asked himself what was wrong with her a second time.

"Er, yes...?"

She was silent for a while after that, and Sam was thankful for it. The thread was just over half way when she spoke again.

"Are all humans like you?"

"Wh-What do you mean? Am I the first human you've met?" He replied, nearly sighing in relief as the thread remained constant despite the distraction. 'It's getting a bit easier.'

"Yes, you are my first." She said, and gave a small giggle. "I mean how you're submissive and all."

'Submissive? No. Just staying under the radar.' He gave a wry chuckle."No, all humans are different. As I'm sure elves are as well."

"No, elves are much smarter than humans." She replied.

Sam just shook his head, "Sure whatever, but I was referring to personalities, not comparing the races."

"I don't understand what you mean."

Sam sighed. "How old are you, exactly?"

"What? Are you mocking me you barbarian?" She said, a little too loudly.

Her mother stirred slightly, and Sam held his breath. When she stopped moving and didn't rise he let out his breath silently.

"No, I'm just asking." He answered more patiently than he felt.

She glared at him suspiciously for a few moments, then relaxed slightly. "I am 16 years this winter."

'Wow, she's much older than she looks.' He thought. 'And acts for that matter. Appearances can be deceiving. Gah she's probably too indoctrinated by now. Not worth it.'

"Why did you ask that?" She said after he remained silent.

"Ah, I was just curious." He replied.

The thread reached it's destination at that moment, and Sam had to stifle the exclamation that threatened to escape him. His eyes followed the thread, so faint that he struggled to see it further down the line. It ended at the sheath of his sword, just below the cross guard. 'Moment of truth...' Sam forced his intention into the thread, and saw it flare for just a second. The sword crept an inch across the ground. Only a slight shift, but it told him that it would work.

This time, he couldn't hold in the sigh of relief. Feima looked at him, her eyes narrowed. Sam went back to diligently repairing his shirt, not daring to look at his sword for fear of his urge to just take it right then. Oh how he wanted to hold it. He could feel the adrenaline pumping through him, like a burning coldness. Grasping his body in a strangling grip, making him want to move, to take action.

He breathed deeply, composing himself, then began his next task. This one was even more unreliable than the flimsy thread, but he hadn't come up with anything else. So, he started talking to Feima, trying to coax her into sleep. He had to do it quickly, or she would end up waking her mother.

Sam forced his body to tremble slightly, then it became a real shiver as he acknowledged the cold of the cave. "It's pretty cold in here, isn't it?" He asked.

Feima nodded. "Yes, it is. It get's cold here as we approach winter. We will likely get snowfall within the next moon or so." She said, unconsciously pulling up her folded blanket.

'Holy shit, that actually worked...' "Ah, it was still pretty warm down in the human lands a few days back." He said, not looking up from his shirt, which was now more than halfway repaired. "It got so hot on one of the days a while back that I had to keep dumping buckets of water on my familiar so she wouldn't die from the heat."

And so he went on talking to her, telling arbitrary stories that he made up as he went. Nothing too interesting, or requiring response from her. It seemed to be working as her eyes began to droop noticeably, and she was yawning frequently. She did occasionally break in with a question, but he quickly diverted before it became a string of them. Mostly they related to the supposed human customs that he'd been making up.

After a quarter hour, Sam heard her breathing become a steady rhythm. He glanced up, seeing her slumped against the wall. The blanket was pulled to her chin and her eyes were closed. Her lips were opened slightly, her jaw relaxed. Sam continued talking in a soft voice despite her being asleep already. He didn't want to risk the possibility of the sudden change waking her.

Carefully, he began flaring the power to the thread, dragging his sword closer. Inch by painful inch, it crept closer in a straight line. Sam nearly cried out in frustration as Feima's mother shifted her leg, her foot moving directly into his sword's path. He fought the climbing desire to just wriggle his way over to it. 'Too loud, can't risk it all now for my impatience.'

He grimaced as the hilt nudged her foot. She groaned and shifted in her bedroll, and Sam felt his hopes fall as her foot remained in the same position. 'Should I wait? See if she moves again?' He wondered, frowning at the thought of having to wait even longer. 'No, I need to get out of here now.'

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