Volume 4: Dereliction of Duty
Chapter I: The Caress of Familiar Aches
"Engineer Sarah Kettar,
There was a time where the word of The Great Engineer was enough to make people rejoice with images of a bright future in their mind. I trust you remember the tri-shear plow, the hydraulic strut, the instant tent? So many of the Free States' technologies exist because of their support for His divine grace, but in recent years, support for His churches has been in rapid decline and for the life of me, I cannot imagine why.
We live in dark times and it seems that despite our best efforts, the collective knowledge of the races is ebbing like tide from a craggy shore; vice and quaint distractions of the mortal coil have taken hold where once there was enlightenment and progress. Even amongst our brothers and sisters of the Faith, mortal concerns have stripped them of their faculties and this attitude is spreading rapidly-
'What need do we have of Engineers', they say, 'my goblet is filled with wine and my belly full with food. I have bills to pay, work to do and wives to keep in comfort. A machine cannot do these things for me,' they decry. 'The sweat of my brow is my tool! Let it be so!'
Of course, they forget that it is because of the Engineer's inspirations to mortal beings that these things exist in the first place. Metals were forged to make that goblet, racks invented to allow those grapes to grow proud and strong, the barrel in which that wine was matured did not spring into existence, nor the process by which grapes were made into wine in the first place. . .
How can we show them we are still needed? How do we help them understand? It will not be by the hands of our Senior Artificers who wear only the title and sacrifice nothing of themselves, it will be in the streets. By word, by deed and more than anything, by proving to them that this draconic brand of hedonism is not the way forward.
We must show the common man the gods have not abandoned them, lest we ourselves forget:
There was a time where the word of The Engineer was enough to make people rejoice. . .
I look forward to hearing your ideas,"
-Engineer Jason Malsvic
# # # #
Sarah was slumped in the corner of the elaborate carriage as Caldion guided it carefully through the Ferret's Triangle towards Laleah. The steady clop of horse hooves plodding rhythmically along the packed dirt trail was mercifully quiet and would have allowed for all manner of conversation, but no one dared break the heavy silence between them. Days of running had taken their toll on everyone, and even with the relief of having escaped, there was a cloud over the rag-tag group that not even hours of time on the road would break up.
For her part in it, Sarah's body had demanded, and won, her surrender; she lay slumped in the corner across the bench snoring softly and filling the air with the pungent tang of sex that not even the open windows had managed to air out.
Keiter- with help from a stack of books- and Tessarie sat on the opposite side of the carriage, watching the world outside roll by at a steady pace, none of them knowing exactly what would happen next and silently hoping that whatever madness Sarah had dragged them into, she could also drag them out of.
For Sarah, though, there were only dreams. . .
#
The peninsula was relatively small, barely the size of a hamlet, but Sarah had negotiated a stellar discount from the Free States in exchange for access to her new invention when she was finished. There were issues, of course; farming was out of the question, the rocky soil was barren and the nearest trading post was half a day's ride, but it was home. It was her home.
It was
their
home.
Even after a year the concept was alien, but the steady kiss of salty air flowing in from the End's Ocean never let her forget that for every breath she'd taken under the lash or in the service of others, she would breathe a million more free and happy. Happiness was still a new concept to some archaic part of her elven-influenced mind, but it was a welcome one.
Sarah leaned forward against the window sill over her sink. Breakfast was chilling steadily on the table just behind her, but Ithric hadn't awoken yet and their daughter had taken her mother's absence as an excuse to go back to sleep in her high chair. Sarah was left to let her gaze- and mind wander over the misty oceans as its breeze caressed her bare lower body. Only Ithric's shirt kept the chill at bay, but it was a familiar, welcome chill.
A sea of dark turquoise waves tinted by spears of light from roiling clouds and an ever present mist several leagues out from shore lapped at the fringes of the craggy shore surrounding the tower, promising- tempting- begging to be explored. No one was insane enough to leave the shore more than a few leagues into that fog, not even the pirates would risk it for very long, but Sarah had a different idea about the mist. It was a problem to be solved, not some mystical entity that couldn't be conquered.
At one time humanity had considered the dark a mystic force, but when someone lit a candle, that notion was put soundly to rest, now wasn't it? Sarah tapped her finger on the sill, gaze shifting towards the canvas tent between their tower and the shore. It wasn't terribly long- perhaps a sloop's hull length, the tent would serve as an air bag once her moss arrived and once she had a working prototype, she could scale it up to a full galleon. . .
It was going to be wondrous- a boat of their own. One that could fly, no less! No more running cargo and smuggling drugs with up and down the coast to make ends meet. Once their daughter was old enough, they could teach her how to run rigging and even make her own ship, they could turn the whole operation into a business.
Captain Hart. No, Kettar- It was Kettar now. . . Yes, Captain Kettar and company. It would be the Red Minion that made them financially secure, and maybe- just maybe- it would keep her sane. Captain Kettar indeed. She chuckled. "Gods what a silly idea."
Ithric's yawn announced his arrival into the kitchen, followed by a mumbled 'morning'. He paused at the door, smiling a little at Sarah's half bent form- her tight butt was completely exposed and her pale skin flush with goosebumps. Even despite having a flowing hourglass figure, she was in good shape from months of work both during and the few days after her pregnancy she'd managed to get up the energy. "Now there's a sight worth getting up for."
Sarah glanced back from her daydreaming. "Hm?" It took her a moment to catch his gaze, her mind still full of ideas on how to get the Red Minion airborne. "Come now, how much longer are you going to be filling my head with that nonsense?"
The tall man approached her slowly, his casual gait and warm smile making stirring a familiar sense of warmth. They couldn't indulge it, no matter how much Sarah might have wanted to, but when she was fully healed there was going to be a lot of time to make up for. She found herself grinning as his powerful arms wrapped around her stomach, he kissed her deeply and pulled her into a reverse hug. His breath tickled her ear, "Until you start to believe it." He kissed her neck, nuzzling against her with a warm sigh. "Then I'll fill your head with something else."
The half-elf scoffed playfully. "Filling my mouth is not at all the same thing,
young man
." She nudged him.
"Tch." Without warning, Ithric nipped the tip of her ear causing Sarah to duck out of the way involuntarily. "I told you to knock that off- you're three years older."
Sarah laughed, pressing her back against him as if he'd disappear should she dare let their bodies break contact. Finally she looked up at him over her shoulder and smiled. "I thought you liked older women."
"I like a lot of things. . . Like filling your head- with thoughts, you pervert." He chided, resting his chin on her shoulder, looking out the window. "Don't pout, you'll get your fill tonight anyway."
"I usually do." She leaned back and kissed his cheek once more as he wrapped his arms around her upper body. "But you never seem to mind, hm?" She dotted his nose playfully, chuckling all the while. "The elven invasion continues."
"Mmm." His grip tightened, supportive and warm even against the coastal air. After several seconds of silence, he whispered. "Does this mean you've finally come to accept it?"
"Hm?"
He reached up and rubbed the tip of her ear between his thumb and forefinger. She started to flinch away, her body's tickle reaction already kicking in, but he held her firmly. He pressed his weight against her butt, pinning her against the sink as he kissed her neck, sending ripples of heat through her, an urge to return the attention, to be felt and feel. . . Sarah cupped the back of his skull, letting out a sigh only he could make her whisper. He drank deeply from her scent and kissed her ear. "You're my fey queen."
"Don't." Sarah breathed. "Don't do that. . ."
"But it's true," Ithric whispered into her ear as his hands slid up to her heavy breasts. His palms cupped her sensitive nipples, pressing on her even more. She grabbed his wrist looking back at him, the father of her child and the only man she'd ever actually loved. . . It pained her to pull his hand away, but she knew better than let this go on.
"Please?"
"Please what?"
She kissed his neck. "I know you like it, but it's- it's just. . ." In a weak twist of focus, she offered a lame smile. "You don't want your palms coming back wet, do you? Or your shirt, for that matter- this is your shirt, after all."
"Shh." The sailor wrapped his arm around her belly again, his free hand cupped her shoulders and despite her initial resistance, he pulled her in close. "It's okay. . ." Without waiting for an invitation, he drew back enough to place his hand on her back, tracing familiar scars by memory. He wasn't put off by the ugly ridges and valleys the scourge had left on her, no, he held her firmly and continued to stroke her back for several moments, breathing through her coppery hair and into the nape of her neck. Finally he leaned her forward to where she had been, looking out the window. There was no shame or remorse in his touch, nor from her when he ventured too low and slid his hand between her cheeks.
No. . . There were no boundaries now. Sarah Kettar looked up at him, even as she felt his fingers glide down her rump, gliding down into places they aught not be. He pressed against her nether lips, sliding one finger between them with a dangerous sigh across her ear. She licked her lips, swallowed. "Trying to make a second one already?" She whispered, inclining her head to their sleeping daughter. "Give me
some
rest, dear."
"You're the one who never lets me pull out." Ithric chuckled softly and pressed his weight against her that little bit more, nuzzling into her neck, he whispered, "You have another idea?" With his lips to her throat, he added: "Something we can
both
