Bound in Spirals

Hello strangers! It's me again, your favorite writer of this story! First, I'd like to apologize for forgetting to mention that I was taking a short break for christmas, I put it in my bio, but I'm sure not everyone checks it. Second, I'd like to thank Ed for his amazing help as usual, but unfortunately this will be the last chapter he edits. Real life obligations have stolen him from my grasp. Thirdly and finally, please enjoy!

—————

Sam did not move from his position against the tree. Rough, flaky bark scratched his back through his clothing. His forearms were starting to tingle with numbness from being pressed against his knees for too long.

'...What will you do now?' Samson asked, finally breaking the silence.

"I will make sure Theodore is healed. Whatever it takes." Sam replied.

'Well, yes... but what do you want to do beyond that?'

"I... I want to go back to the library, back to my books... No... I don't know. I feel weary, Samson. Weary of life, weary of this past of mine that plagues me whatever I do." Sam said aloud, his voice reflecting his words. "I realize now, with the clarity of detachment, that indecision is one of my great weaknesses. I cannot easily make big choices. I am dependent on others pointing out a direction for me. I don't know if I can easily break from that pattern."

'But, you can't just give up. What abo...'

"I never said I would 'give up'. I will continue living, but I don't think I can convince myself that I am enjoying it anymore."

'Well, what about the princess? Doesn't she make you happy?'

His eyes twitched into a brief expression of pain and he opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came. He paused, collecting his thoughts. "...I can't help but think that all of this is too good to be true, that I was too naive. It will undoubtedly end badly. Our little teasing and whatnot just seems a bit foolish now. My eyes have been opened, forced open, and I just feel like I have been lying to myself all this time." He said solemnly, his words punctuated by Dettella calling in the distance.

After a moment of thought Samson said, 'I think that perhaps you're being too hasty in your judgment. If you're willing to listen to my advice, not that I'm the greatest person for that sort of thing, but I

do

want to help.'

"I'll listen." Sam said.

'Alright, then for now I suggest making a goal for yourself. Doesn't really matter what it is, I suppose. It could be that you just want to get between the princess's legs, but set yourself something to achieve. Then after that, you can set a new goal.'

Taking a deep breath, Sam considered the idea. It took him a while to think of something that he genuinely wanted, something he could focus on. "Very well. I have something..."

'Well? Don't leave me hanging like that, tell me what it is.' Samson said with an audible smile.

"I will learn to use this sword. Consistently defeating Darrel will be a good enough goal to start, I think." He said.

'...That wasn't a joke, was it? Fucking... You're impossible. That goal will take forever to reach!' Samson said incredulously. 'I'd been thinking something a bit easier to accomplish. Something like, oh I don't know... becoming the queen?'

"It is the only thing I could think of, and despite my uncertain feelings toward Dettella and the others around me, I don't want them to suffer because of me. I will become strong enough to prevent that at least."

Samson sighed, and Sam could imagine him rubbing his forehead in exasperation. 'Fine, I suppose it's something at least. Though I really do think fucking the princess is a much better goal, in many ways.'

Sam shook his head, not deigning to respond to that. He stood, leaning on his sword, and looked back the way Samson had run.

'Oh come on, I was just joking! Well, half-joking at least...'

Sam began walking back toward their little encampment, feeling a little more certain about himself now that he had a goal in mind.

———

Dettella's mind was in a nonstop war between worry and curiosity. Every time curiosity seemed to be getting ahead, her conscience would suddenly step in and fend it off, but it always came back with a vengeance. Sam, of course, is what they were warring over. That strange personality switching he'd had... It was on the verge of tearing her apart.

"Samson!" She called, still hoping for a response. Darrel had told her to 'leave him be', but this time she just couldn't. 'Blight it! I thought I'd seen him run this way.' She frowned, in part concern, part frustration.

She decided to go back to her carriage and start again from the beginning. 'I really should have pursued knowledge on tracking. Well, any useful knowledge of the wilderness would have been ideal really.'

"Milady! I found him." Giela came running up, pointed back behind. "He's walking back now."

"Good, let's go meet him then." Dettella replied, already starting off the way her handmaiden had come.

"Um..."

"Hm? What is it?" She stopped, looking at the short woman.

"Well, I think you should be careful." Giela said, shifting uncomfortably. "Something... Something has changed, I think."

Dettella pursed her lips. "Very well. I will be cautious. Let us meet him back at the camp." She said, turning back toward the road.

They arrived at the carriage first, but they were not long in waiting. Dettella nearly let out an involuntary gasp upon seeing him. He looked... different. At first she couldn't pinpoint what it was. He still had an air of melancholy about him, but something... 'That's what it is!' She thought, seeing his eyes as they turned toward her.

The madness residing in them, it was simply no longer there. No, that wasn't right... The madness was still there, faintly, but it was as if it was under control somehow. Something significant had just happened within Sam, and Dettella wasn't sure whether to be concerned or happy for him.

A feeling rose unbidden inside her. She tried desperately to quash it, to dispel it, but it was insistent. She flinched. She wanted to slap herself. 'No! No, I won't allow it!' She told herself, but the feeling grew regardless... Disappointment. It was quickly followed by revulsion, but it was not enough to overpower it.

Dettella saw Sam's hand move and her eyes followed it, eager for a distraction. The movement, she realized, was him clenching the pommel of his sword. He looked down at his hand, and for a brief moment, the madness in his eyes lurched forward hungrily. She felt like vomiting. She despised herself for the feeling of relief she had in that moment.

'I am a disgusting person.' She thought, 'Why do these hideous feelings continue harassing me?! My curiosity... it is too dangerous.' Self-loathing nearly consumed her in that moment. She didn't know what to do, it was so frightening.

"Dettella," Sam finally spoke, his voice sounding hesitant. "I... I'm sorry if I troubled you, running off like that. My mind... lately it has been hazy. It has cleared a bit now, I suppose..."

She looked back up at him and his icy blue eyes met hers. His expression was troubled, as if he was trying to find the right way to say something he didn't want to say.

"Yes... You look more lucid." She said, trying to make herself feel relieved for him.

"...I want—" His reply was cut off.

"We should leave now." Darrel said, stepping around the carriage. "We have delayed too long. Much longer and news may arrive before we do."

Sam nodded and hurried off toward Letta, leaving Dettella feeling uncertain. She winced, a sudden headache stabbing behind her eyes. "Ugh, not again..." She muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. 'Blight, I thought I was done with these...'

"Milady?" Giela looked at her, concerned.

"Just a headache. Would you please fetch me some water? And help everyone else prepare to leave if they need it. I have to go sit down." The princess said, her voice strained.

"Of course." The elf strode off as Dettella walked the few steps to the carriage, lacking some of her usual grace.

———

Sam took the opportunity Darrel had afforded him gratefully, and escaped the increasingly awkward situation. 'Dammit, why couldn't I say anything?' He grumbled frustration at himself under his breath. 'I should have at least told her that I still wanted to talk to her, one on one.' He sighed. 'Well, I'll just make sure to approach her after we get Theodore situated with the healers.'

It had felt very strange seeing Dettella again. Even though he'd seen her half an hour earlier, she seemed like a completely different person to him. Somehow, she seemed less perfect, more... realistic, in a way. Before, she'd seemed like a goddess, or an angel. Something to be worshipped. Of course, he'd known somewhere that that wasn't the case, but it was how it had seemed most of the time.

Now, he recognized her flaws. In that brief moment he felt like he'd seen 'more' of her than he had since he'd met her days before. Oddly, the fact that she was imperfect had washed away the doubts he'd been having about his feelings earlier. Her slightly large nose, the speckling of acne on her upper cheeks, eyebrows that were just a bit uneven...

It somehow made her good features seem even more beautiful. Her soft full lips, her golden blonde hair cascading down her shoulders in loose ringlets, and her dainty chin. Most of all, her big emerald eyes. So vibrant in color as to seem unnatural, and the gleam of intelligence in them. They captivated him as if they had a mesmerizing magical power in them.

Of course those were just physical features. Her personality was, in it's own way, just as attractive. Her persistent curiosity for anything she lacked knowledge of, her gentle kindness, and her intelligence. As well as her lack of prejudice, despite the world she'd grown up in. All of it added up to pretty much everything he could ever hope for in a romantic partner.

In the few moments of him realizing all of these things, he'd frozen up. He'd barely been unable formulate coherent thoughts. This really wasn't all that out of the ordinary for him, but for some reason it had still shocked him. So when Darrel said they need to go, he'd fled from the scene as quickly as he could.

He skirted the empty fire pit, aiming straight for the great gray form ahead. Letta was lying on her stomach, her head resting on her paws. When she heard him coming her ears perked up and she lifted her head, turning to him. Upon seeing him, her deep black eyes widened.

'You are... changed.' She said.

His joy at seeing her took him by surprise, making his lips pull up involuntarily. He hadn't expected to feel happy so soon after acknowledging he was going insane, after that feeling of complete hollowness. For a moment it made him worry that he was trying to hide from it again subconsciously. No... he was just genuinely happy to see Letta.

'I've just had a moment of clarity.' He replied.

'I understand. Did it have something to do with the princess?' She asked, glancing toward the carriage.

'Not directly, no. Though it will affect my relationship with her, I think.' He paused. 'Why do you ask?'

Letta sniffed loudly. 'Her scent is... conflicted. I have not smelled this from her before. Not to this extent, at least.'

'Really? Well, her expression was a bit odd when I was talking to her.'

'Yes,' She replied. 'Also, she is starting her period of menstruation.'

'Wh-What? Why'd you tell me that?' Sam stammered, taken aback.

'I just wished to warn you so that you would know that mating now would not be fruitful.' She huffed in her approximation of laughter. 'I also wanted to see your reaction. You have not changed too much, you still get flustered easily.'

He frowned at her. 'You shouldn't go around saying people's private stuff like that. It's pretty rude, you know.'

'I am not going around, I can only communicate with you. Besides, it is useful information for you. You should be grateful.'

'Well, regardless I'd rather you not tell me that sort of thing, it's a bit embarrassing. Though I appreciate the thought, I guess. You can tell me about their other scents though, that would be interesting. What do I smell like?'

'Your smell... it is clearer than before. You smell happy about something, and... never mind.' Letta said.

'Well, I am happy. I am happy that I'm talking to you. I, er... I feel like I've been neglecting you a bit. I wanted to apologize for not spending much time with you lately...'

Letta shook her massive head. 'You need not. I remember when I met my first mate... At times we forgot even to hunt.'

'I see... Well, thanks for being understanding then.' He replied as he began clambering up her side.

'You are coming with me, then?' She asked, sounding pleased.

'Yeah, I don't think I could manage riding in the carriage with her right now. It would probably be a bit awkward, at least until I get the chance to talk to her alone.'

'"A bit awkward" is probably an understatement.' Samson said, joining in.

'Samson, I would like you to try to get in contact with Rentell again. I need to know who the other "saints" are as soon as possible.' Sam told him.

'Whoa, where's that coming from?'

'Just try, please,' He replied. 'It is important to know if there are any around, and what their intentions are.'

'I'll try, but I doubt I can figure it out before he ends up contacting us first...'

'That's fine.' Sam was already returning his focus to Letta as he spoke. Samson retreated, muttering discontentedly about not being wanted around. 'Letta, would you tell me what scents Fenella gives off?'

'Hmm...' She sniffed the air in the direction of the healer, who was currently stuffing her chest back into the trunk of the carriage. 'She is contented. That is all.'

Sam frowned. He'd been hoping for a bit more. 'Are you sure?'

'Of course I am sure. She is a difficult one to read, though. The sword captain is the same, most of the time. You are odd at some moments as well.' Letta replied. 'The princess usually is very clear, the elves as well. Except for the one that follows you like a pup who has lost her mother, I rarely get any interpretable scents from her.'

'Interesting...' He said, scratching at his shoulder. Vielchena was currently sitting on a lichen encrusted boulder, sharpening her sword calmly. This reminded Sam of Darrel's warning that he would need to sharpen his sword soon. Despite it being made of velta it would still need maintenance, however infrequent. 'You said rarely, that means there have been moments when you could get something from her? When did it happen, and what did it mean?'

'I have caught it twice. Once when you gave her your clothes, second when you disappeared into the forest earlier this morning. The first was a quick moment of pleasure. The other was... more difficult. Something of a combination of worry, fear, and what I believe was a sense of abandonment. It happened when it took you long to return. Each time it was very brief, then it returned to something... neutral.'

'Interesting...' Sam thought, deciding he'd have to try to coax more of the elf's emotions out. It was the least he could do. 'It's amazing that you can smell all of that, though. Pretty useful.'

'Ah, w-well it is partially a sort of feeling as well, not just my sense of smell. Any of my kin could do it.'

Sam chuckled, Letta's random moments of embarrassment were still as odd to him as it had been the first time. A thought suddenly came to him. 'Letta, do you know how powerful mages learn to 'conquer' their magic, so to speak?'

'Hm? I am not certain... Though, I believe Everen used meditation somehow. Usually she would spend an hour a day "relaxing her mind". I once asked her why, and she told me something like, "Meditation is essential for one's mind and soul to be at peace."'

'Alright... I read something about stress relief techniques so I have an idea of how to meditate, but could you tell me how she did it?' Sam asked, then slid down off her back to help Darrel mount the captives on her. To him he said, "How far are we exactly? I need to know when to have her stop."

Darrel just looked at him for a moment, his eyes revealing nothing. Then he nodded. "Two hours until we reach the gate, one until you should have her stop." He said as he lifted the first elf up.

'About 15 miles at the carriages speed.' Sam thought then nodded and turned to the three captives. He held out his hands toward Frinala. She glanced at the other female elf, then stepped onto his clasped hands. Sam hefted her up, getting her high enough for her to get a hold on Letta's back.

'Everen used to sit and stare at a candle flame and hold a little of her magic. Occasionally she would repeat a word over and over as well, mostly when she had no candle or lantern available. She never really explained anything to me though, so I do not know exactly how she did it.' Letta told him as he boosted up the second woman.

As he lifted her up, she put her next foot on his head as if to step on it. Sam dropped her. She crashed to the earth with an indignant squeal.

"Y-You fucking scum! How dare you?!"

She screeched, her pale face flooding a deep crimson of rage.

Sam looked down at her with a blank expression.

"Don't try to step on my head and I won't drop you."

She glared up at him defiantly.

"If you'd prefer, I can let you ride in her stomach."

She stiffened, then stood slowly. She didn't speak, nor did she look at Sam. He held out his hands again and she stepped into them. Dry tree needles came off of her soft leather slippers and into Sam's hands as she clambered up onto Letta's back. He dusted off his hands and climbed up ahead of the elves.

"Rebind them." Darrel said, then turned and walked back toward the carriage.

Sam turned to do as he'd said. 'Wait,' He thought, 'I shouldn't use my magic. Not until I can control it, or rather, control myself...' He hesitated, his hands held in front of him. 'What do I do?'

Letta turned her head to look at him. 'Are you alright Sam?' Her tone was suddenly worried.

'Hm? Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just trying to decide something.' He replied.

'But... Why are you trembling?' She asked.

'Trembling?' He looked more closely at his hands. 'I

am

trembling. How odd.'

'Sam are you sure you are alright? You sound... dazed.'

'Dazed, huh? I suppose you're right, I feel a little bit dazed.' He said, noting the tickle on his cheeks as tears fell from his eyes. 'I wonder why this is happening.' Suddenly, his trembling subsided. 'Oh, it stopped.'

With the back of his hand, he wiped the tears from his cheeks. 'I should probably bind them now.' Without bothering to think, he summoned his magic. The gold and silver swirls suffused his skin. He quickly bound the elves' legs to Letta and their hands together. They barely protested, still looking at him with bewildered eyes.

When he finished, he hurriedly released his magic. A relieved sigh escaped his chest, and he realized he'd been holding his breath. "Haha, I'm not sure what I was expecting to happen..." He muttered, shaking his head at his strange behavior.

Off to their right, the carriage started rolling. Sam looked down, seeing Darrel, Fenella, and Vielchena all riding on the backs of three of the five winnem. Letta rose slowly and started to lope after them. Once on the packed dirt road, Sam's mind began to lose focus. He stared at the passing trees blankly, random thoughts meandering about in his mind.

———

Dettella leaned forward, resting her elbows against her thighs. She tried to focus on her book, but the combination of her headache and thoughts of Sam were distracting her too much. She put her bookmark in and closed the book. Sighing, she began to rub at her temples. 'I need to be clear minded when we see the queen, perhaps I should try to take a nap.'