Author's Note:
This chapter of my story contains no sex, it focuses entirely on plot. I considered trying to fit some in somehow, but decided against it. If you're looking for a quickie, I suggest you look elsewhere.
This story contains minor gore and graphic descriptions of pain (Unrelated to sex). Just to warn those who are bothered by that sort of thing.
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 woke with a start. He shot up, the coarse blanket falling to his side. The dream he'd had brought up old resentments, and he felt ready to break something. His ill feelings were dampened as he looked around, blinking. 'Where...? Oh, yeah. In the other world thing.' He thought, shaking away his drowsiness.
The light of dawn was streaming in through the opening in the tent. Sam rubbed his eyes as he dropped his legs off the side of the bed. Horns began to blare as he stood up. Covering his ears, Sam wobbled to the cushioned log and sat. Finally, the noise ceased, and he put his hands down. Outside, Sam could hear the marching of countless feet in sync. He listened intently as he straightened his clothing. Sam realized he'd slept in his boots and shook his head.
He got up once again, and clomped toward the entrance to the tent. It would take some time to get used to the heavy boots. Sam stole a peek out the slit. He saw rows upon rows of white canvas tents just like his. 'Jesus, how big is this camp?' He thought in amazement. He waited there, watching and listening for many minutes. Eventually, he decided to try to find that Grettia woman, figuring she was his best bet for some answers. As soon as he stepped out, he was halted by a voice to his left.
"Sir, you've got orders to report to the command hub as soon as possible." The youthful voice declared.
Sam turned to see a boy who looked barely 13, saluting him with a sharp movement. He was clothed in a green uniform, and carrying a leather satchel that appeared full. Sam was unsure of how to respond, instead he just stared at the boy with wide eyes.
"Uh, Sir?" The boy cocked an eyebrow.
"Oh, uh, sorry." Sam said. "Can you point me to where it's at?"
The boy's eyes narrowed for a moment, then he seemed to realize something.
"Right. It's that way, sir." He said pointing toward Sam's right. "It's a giant red tent, you can't miss it."
"Thanks, I'll go right away." Sam replied and turned to go.
Before he got more than a step away the boy spoke again.
"Sir, is it true? Is it true that the Captain perished last eve?" Sam turned back.
"What Captain?"
"Captain Samson Erke." The boy looked up at him, and Sam saw sadness.
"Yeah... I'm sorry." Sam replied quietly and strode away.
Sam walked in the direction he was pointed for over half an hour before he finally saw the immense crimson tent. It's gilded trim gleamed softly in the warm light of the morning. He traced the outside of the circular structure until he found the entrance. To either side of the pulled fabric, two men dressed in iridescent red armor stood at guard.
Sam shuffled awkwardly in their direction, unsure of how to approach. As he came near, both men looked toward him, their armor clinking as they turned. They straightened their backs and held their lances upright. Sam continued forward and both men turned their heads forward again. He took that as a sign that he was allowed to pass, and stepped past and into the grand canopy.
Sam blinked rapidly, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dimness. He heard the hushed whispers of many voices as he walked hesitantly to the center of the tent. Finally, he could make out an extravagant looking table that spanned the entire room. On the opposite side from him sat 7 people. As he began to make out their faces, he realized all were women, and they were looking at him appraisingly. Sam was suddenly feeling timid.
"Hmm, he does bear a striking resemblance." The woman directly to the center said, the rest made sounds of disgruntled agreement.
Sam's eyes scanned the assembly quickly, trying to make out their expressions. Most seemed as though they were appalled by something, though perhaps he was just misinterpreting their countenance. He realized he recognized one of the women, the one on the far left. It was Grettia, the supposed healer. She looked at him with barely retained eagerness, Sam wasn't sure how to feel about that. Grettia stood and circled to the front of the table.
"Sisters, come, you must see what I've witnessed in this boy." She declared with a flourish, her elaborate violet robes flowing with her arms.
The rest of the group began to rise, muttering to each other as they did. They joined Sam and Grettia before the table, and leered at him haughtily. Grettia motioned at him excitedly and all 6 converged on him. Sam felt fear boil up, these women seemed dangerous to him somehow. He shied away, as they neared him. He stumbled back and fell on his rear, they reached spindly hands toward him from inside their lavish robes.
As they gripped him, Sam couldn't help but let out a gasp. Just as each of them touched, he could see something inside. In their bodies, he could feel power, not unlike the patterns he'd been visualizing constantly. They were all unique, some were rigid and cold, others were inviting and warm. Though, something about them felt off, but he couldn't quite pick it out.
Some of the women gasped as they touched him, other's eyes widened, but all displayed some form of shock. They all backed away in unison, a few had a fearful look in their eye, some amazed, one was angry even. Sam wondered if what they'd seen in him was anything like what he could see in them.
He scrambled back and pulled himself to his feet. Wary of the frightening gaggle of women. Sam straightened his pants and dusted off his behind, as the group started muttering to themselves, more furiously than before. Grettia looked on with what seemed to be
self-satisfaction. Sam was more bewildered than ever at what was taking place, 3 of the women kept glaring at him as they conferred.
Sam attempted to take a logical assessment of his situation, but it was too unclear. Grettia seemed delighted, while the others were combinations of fear, anger, and confusion. All he could tell was that his position was precarious. Sam was surprised to find he was relatively calm. Normally, this would've had him too afraid to form coherent thought, he was most definitely fearful, but it seemed it was a controlled fear.
Sam shuffled further away and straightened his back. As he moved, he noticed all the women glanced at him nervously. In the back of his mind he could still visualize the energy he'd seen flowing in each of them, and had a revelation. 'Grettia called these women 'sisters', so I think I can safely assume they have similar magical ability. So that energy I saw in them must be related to their magic... then, could the spirals I keep visualizing be the power Grettia mentioned?'
Sam's eyes flicked from woman to woman as he frantically analyzed this discovery. They continued to bicker in hushed tones, until Grettia finally interrupted.
"I propose we send him to Stralden." She said abruptly.
Her 'sisters' looked at her incredulously, obviously understanding something Sam didn't. He remembered Grettia mentioning that name to him the previous day, but he didn't remember the context.
"Are you crazy?! We cannot send him there, he is not from here! It would be far too dangerous to the queen, what if he's an assassin?! What do..." One woman with blonde hair and an upturned nose spoke, nearly shouting.
The woman seemed to realize Sam was still standing right there and cut herself off. The 6 women formed a sort of half circle, opposing Grettia. They glanced to Sam in unison, wearing scowls, then back to Grettia. Their unified movements struck Sam as creepy somehow, he too glanced between them and Grettia, waiting for her response.
"You dunces. Do you not see it yet?" Grettia asked the group, while motioning at Sam.
The women stared at him, brows furrowed, then looked back to Grettia. Grettia just sighed and put her hand to her face.
"Sometimes I wonder how you fools ever made it past the vetting system..." Grettia muttered, just loud enough to hear.
The same woman who'd spoken before made a slur of sounds that was a combination of a scoff, a grunt, and a stutter of indignation.
"H-HOW DARE-" She began, but Grettia cut her off.
"He's an 'other'." She said.
Sam tried to figure out what she meant by that, but his limited knowledge of this world prevented it. Whatever it meant, it must have been something of some significance based on the reactions it got. All the women turned to Sam, their jaws hanging, and they seemed to realize the truth behind what Grettia said.
"H-He needs to be executed!" One said immediately.
Two others nodded at this immediately and Sam's 'controlled fear' unraveled. He instinctively raised his arms slightly at his sides, ready to defend himself. As he started to back toward the exit the woman with the blonde hair lunged at him with a shriek. Grettia shouted, and Sam heard the other women shout as well, but he was already turned and heading for the opening.
As he sprinted his boot caught on a rock jutting upward from the dirt, the exit mere feet away. He scrambled forward, trying to gain his footing again. Then, he felt a cold grip clamp down on his flailing right wrist. He felt the power of the one behind it, and panic crept through his limbs like poison. The energy was rigid and dark, unlike the whimsical spirals of his own. Sam turned, and looked into the murderous eyes of the woman gripping him.
She must have seen the terror in his eyes, as the thin lipped grin of a predator consumed her face. Sam expected her other hand to enclose his neck and choke the life from him, but she just held his wrist, her arm consumed by tenebrous, black structures. An awkward couple seconds passed as he froze in place, staring into her crazed, honey colored eyes. Then, just as suddenly as she lunged, she tore her hand from him. Her grin remained as she stepped back, watching his face, almost as if waiting for something.
