To Save a World

Hey, all!

First, for those who were actively waiting; I'm sorry this took so long. Just being able to finally complete this second chapter was a minor miracle in itself, swamped as I was with work and school and life in general. That said, I do plan on continuing this series - no matter how long it takes.

And so, a new first. Writing and posting a second chapter! Fuck yeah! My commitment to writing has never been this strong, and being able to put this out there means so much to me.

Finally, I learned from my last post that I will never be able to get rid of mistakes, no matter how much I try - so I'm going to have to ask for your patience instead. As usual, I know how much I lack, and I do want to improve, so constructive criticisms are welcome and appreciated.

That's all from me, enjoy!

* * *

"So... you're a creature that feeds off sex." Aaron whispered, looking up at her from his crouched position while tightening the rope with a grunt.

"

Desire.

" She whispered back, blushing. "Not just sex. My magic feeds off the human emotion of desire."

She took a surprised step back as the body below her gave a jerk, but thankfully remained unconscious. Herry, in only his underclothes, was tightly and inexpertly bound by lengths of coarse rope like an animal about to be taken to slaughter in the ground below her. She nervously looked around.

All her life she had tried to live below everyone's notice. It was the safest way, attracting less attention and ire, scurrying close to the ground well below the notice of whoever weaves the fates. Binding your unconscious slave master

definitely

flies in the face of that principle. But the night was still dark, the air around her still filled with the soft sounds of sleep. No one had noticed. She breathed a small sigh of relief.

Lydia was back to her usual voluminous clothing, tightly clutching the rough garments against her body as if it would protect her from the reality of what she was about to do. She couldn't believe the emotional whirlwind this night has become - from confusion to overwhelming pleasure to stomach-churning anxiety. The poor girl would be dropping from exhaustion if not for the massive wellspring of magic that was buoying her, the vast amounts of energy glowing from within vanishing her tiredness away.

"So you're a sex demon? A succubus? Why haven't you used your magic to escape this place before? What-"

"

Not

, a sex demon!" she huffed, "A suko -

what?

I am of the

dusk

. I feed off the minds of people and can affect them in turn. And I am a

sealed slave

, I just can't leave, even if I had the magic to do so. How do you not know this?" She stared at him in exasperation, hands on her hips while he blinked up at her owlishly.

He shook his head, and she couldn't help but observe the contrast between the large, bound body beneath him to the brazen, childish curiosity his light eyes seemed to display. "Okay, pretend that I'm an idiot and don't know a single thing about sealed slaves."

She huffed again. "When a Council declares a person to be a slave, they are bound with a ward that assures their obedience with the threat of pain or death."

"Oh." he thought about that for a bit, then gave her a grin. "I didn't see any mark anywhere on you though."

"Mine is the invisible kind," she said, blushing again. "It's on my forehead. Watch."

She felt his stare as she poured a little bit of magic into making her seal visible. It wasn't much of a display - such simple warding will become visible once magic touches it. In truth, she just reveled in being able to spend her stores as she wanted - so long had she lived accounting for each and every drop of her energies. Using precious magic to just light up the slave seal on her forehead like this felt decadent, even defiant.

Lydia watched the wonder in his eyes as he saw a miniature anchor-and-scales seal of Searle glow a soft green in the middle of her forehead.

"That's really cool."

She was a little bit confused by his words, but Lydia felt the admiration in his voice. "Thank you."

He stared at the glowing mark for a bit, standing up, dusting himself off, and generally ignoring the prone body beneath him with a look in his face that she couldn't identify.

"So what now?" Aaron asked her, finally directing his gaze to the unconscious Herry.

"Now we find the binds and destroy it." He was staring at her blankly again.

She stared back at him. "The terms of my servitude is written on a paper contract, which is bound to a crystal with the wards to magically enforce the intent from the contract, and in turn binds it to here." Lydia pointed to the diminishing glow from her forehead.

Aaron stared at her and Lydia tried to ignore his obvious confusion. No, not confusion - more like complete and utter ignorance.

How could he not know this?

The basic principles of warding is a well-known aspect of humanity's magical technology, an aspect of life so fundamental that even an uneducated serf such as her would know about.

Could he be from the rumored far-away islands in the Southeast? But surely they would still have some magic there?

The mystery should have nagged at her - after all, he was her one and only ally, and trust is essential in any alliance. But instead, the questions just filled her with a new excitement.

An adventure. Who would have thought a slave like me would be on an adventure?

"Who are you, really?"

Lydia saw him go still, and it was there that she grasped the severity of her question.

They both completely froze as a grunt sounded in the otherwise silent night. Close - too close, must be right behind the wagon from them. They waited in tense silence for a while, but the splash of liquid on wood and ground soon reached them, and then a yawn. It was just a servant, woken for his nightly piss.

Lydia released a long sigh of relief as the sound shuffled away, and watched Aaron do the same. His eyes, almost silver in the fae starlight, did not lack fear. But they were determined.

"Later. We'll talk about it later." He told her, grabbing Herry's discarded trousers and balling up one end of it. She nodded.

"For now, let's get out of here." Aaron looked at the balled up section of cloth, and then handed it to her. She understood his intent, and shoved it in the caravan master's mouth. He was grinning at her. "Feels good, doesn't it? Here, help me roll him under the wagon."

* * *

There were about a dozen wagons in the large caravan, arranged in concentric rings around a main campfire; the outermost ring of vehicles composed of five wagons - quarters of the many hands and militia that handles the day to day task of transporting (apparently illegal) human goods. The second ring is composed of three of the more important wagons - the largest one was shared between Herry and Serry, another, smaller one was Shizo's own private quarters, a privilege of being the head of the mercenary band of the caravan. Three are the slave carriers - smack in the middle of the camp and the most well-guarded. The last was his wagon - the most expendable one, sort of a spare that doubles as storage for unexpected business opportunities. The vehicles are considerably tightly packed about three meters apart.

By mutual consensus, they both agreed that the papers and the crystals must be in Herry's wagon. Aaron's was the most isolated one - about six meters away from the paranoid security circle of hell, and on the side of the road. Farthest from their objective and from their way of escape, which was the forest.

"Ready?" Aaron whispered.

Lydia nodded. Together, they moved silently in the crisp night, their eyes on the faintly glowing embers peeking from the angular silhouettes of wooden vehicles. They walked unhurriedly, clutching their clothes to their bodies against the chill, looking for all the world like they just wanted to innocently share the heat of the campfire. One of the lounging watchers noticed their approach and stirred. Lydia slowed, and the young man watched as the person slowly laid back down on his pallet and went still.

He glanced at the woman beside him and thought of the run-down of her powers that he hurriedly got; She needed to see her target for her to 'influence' them, and the farther the mind is, the larger the cost from her magical stores would be. Moreover, the farther her 'influence' deviates from reality, the higher the likelihood of the target just ignoring her mental suggestions, rendering her abilities useless. More than that, she only knew a few tricks; like making people fall asleep, minor illusions, and something she called 'soothing' - which he surmised was what she did to him the first time they met.

But still, even with all those caveats, the 'ability to influence minds' was just what they needed right now to successfully escape. It was just the right amount of subtle and versatility, and if he was not mistaken there was still a lot of potential for growth.

Not to mention the highly...

motivating

... method of gathering her power. A small, secret smile formed on his mouth as he watched another barely-awake guard silently fall to her powers.

Lydia glanced at him as they neared the center of the wagon ring, her face now close enough to the dying embers to reflect its light, making her eyes appear like vengeful gems of fiery stone. Her lips held a victorious smile, marveling at the ease by which she renders her enemies powerless.

A spike of alarm tore through his brain as he saw a familiar figure ghost through the shadows toward their way, matching their stately pace with his own languid grace. Shizo met them just as they reached the center of the camp, the two parties opposite each other with the stone-ringed campfire in the middle of them. Lydia hesitated, but Aaron never thought of it and fluidly took control of the situation.

"Cold night," he greeted Shizo and bent down to tend to the dying coals. Lydia thankfully followed his cue as he encouraged the embers to fire again.

"So the slut finally shows her true colors," Shizo said with his dead voice, crouching menacingly in front of them.

Lydia tensed - but then his hand was lightly touching the small of her back. "I rather like her colors, especially in this lighting. Don't you? I think the yellows really set her off."

"You'll get it now, slut." he taunted flatly in his own, unsettling way, "You've been Herry's most prized toy for too long for him to just give you up to some stranger. He was planning on finally having you once we reached Timberhouse, did you know that?"

Aaron, finally coaxing a small flame out of the coals, met her downcast eyes. She was frowning at the ground, her hands clenched into tight fists, tense. He understood her fear and loathing, and that made him more wary. He did not want her to lash out, now that she had the power to do so. Aaron tried to communicate his reassurance with his own eyes.

"I guess we do now," he replied amiably, speaking for both of them.

"You too, whoever you really are." Shizo directed his ire at him, "Soon you'll slip up, and we'll be on you like wolves."

"I don't know how you get off spouting baseless allegations like that. Then again, I didn't know you could speak that much without confusing yourself," he replied. Shizo stared at him. Aaron began to realize that the man's basic rebuttal for everything was that same dead stare.

"I'll be the first one to ram my sword up your gut when the time comes."

Aaron swallowed, plastered an unaffected smile to his face. The indifferent way that the man delivered his threats really unsettled him, although he tried not to show it. Shizo seemed to be the perfect movie psychopathic-killer, but with a sword instead of a chainsaw. And an army of bloodthirsty mercenaries behind him.

"Very sophisticated comeback. You continue to raise my expectations of you." Aaron bravely replied.

Shizo sat down with nary a reaction, instead reaching into his hip for a flask which he started taking sips. He wasn't staring at them anymore, instead directing his robotic attention to their surroundings, the flickering fire lending him an untouchable menace. Aaron began to grow nervous, suddenly worried that he'd notice the curious lack of watchers around their precious camp. He turned to his companion.

Lydia was staring at Shizo from deep within her cowl. Her eyes flicked to his, and he realized what she was doing. A stronger nervousness gripped him. She was using her abilities on their enemy - doing what? Making him sleep, probably. He tried not to think about how the man did not seem affected in the slightest - would he notice his sudden sleepiness, and connect it to them?

For a very long second, he froze with indecision. What do you do when your companion is using her invisible, incomprehensible magical abilities on a potential psychopath sitting peacefully across from you in a quaint campfire

in another world

? The world spun around him.

"You know, where I'm from, the nights weren't so dark." Aaron thoughtlessly said. "The skies are always filled with lights. Big lights, small lights, moving and blinking and glaring. I come from a world that never sleeps."

Talking felt natural to him. Using his head, thoughts into words and words into his voice. Yes, that was what he has to do - use his head. If that was what it came to, being the only thing that he can really do. He was a bit surprised from the sudden attention, but then decided to forge on ahead. Lydia's silent gaze stayed on him for a long moment, making her attention obvious. He organized his thoughts. Glanced at his companion.

The world stopped being so uncertain.

"The people are so near each other, yet so distant. It's kind of amazing how you could brush with a hundred people in moments and yet not even talk to a single one of them." The little fire threw sparks into the night as he idly prodded it with a stick that he found. Aaron directed his gaze at Lydia, attempting to soothe her and draw her to his pace, but he also felt Shizo's full attention on him. Probably wondering what the hell he was talking about.

"Where I'm from, we cross continents in days, oceans in hours, and cities in mere minutes. Yet the average person on the street wouldn't know how to cook their own food."

He heard Shizo snort, and he looked up to see him take another swig from his flask. The faint stench of alcohol reached Aaron's nose, and he silently rejoiced. He felt a flash of excitement as the man stifled a yawn.

"We've invented a multitude of machines, smaller than a bug and bigger than a house." He shook his head. "Ten houses. And they can do everything from monitor each and every heartbeat to predict the pattern of storms. The-"

"Whatever it is you are hoping to achieve by this pointless talks," Shizo interrupted, overly enunciating his words "Will not be enough to stop me from killing you when the time comes."

This time, the youth allowed himself a triumphant grin. "Whatever it was that I was hoping to achieve has already been thoroughly accomplished."

Shizo's muddy blue eyes flashed with alarm, and for an instant Aaron regretted being so cocky, but then they fluttered closed. "Bitch... -n use magic." Their greatest danger seemed to minutely sway in his sitting position, and then gracelessly toppled sideways, breathing unnaturally deeply in his uncomfortable position.

Aaron looked at his companion and was met with her own radiant grin of victory. Her eyes shone with new power and confidence - the eyes of a conquering knight with the mighty dragon dead at her feet.

"Well, that was easy." He said drily. He was answered with a sudden tackle from a happy female, her mouth finding his own in a heated kiss.

"I feel so powerful and it is because of you." She gasped into his mouth.

He resisted ravaging her then and there, the fear and apprehension they felt only a minute ago translating their victory into a potent aphrodisiac. "After we get away, I'll expect a very generous show of your appreciation." His hand possessively squeezing her rump left no doubt as to the nature of said appreciation.

She flushed with excitement, her smoky gaze boring into his own. "After all of this, I will spend the whole day showing you just how thankful I am."

"Just a day?" Aaron replied, disentangling them and standing up, "I won't be contented with at least a

week.

"

He was rewarded with a hitch in her breath and a deeper blush.

Shizo's unconscious body was hauled into his own wagon as discreetly as they could manage - a nondescript, utilitarian affair with carefully organized bags and boxes taking up most of the limited space. There was enough left to lay out a stowed sleeping bag - and it was here that they dumped the sleeping man. He was disposed of his sword, gagged and bound and will generally have a very uncomfortable experience, much to Lydia's not-so-secret delight.

His wagon was quickly searched, just in case, and it yielded them a couple of large, wicked looking hunting knives, an extra sword, a leather armor set, and a heavy chest with a formidable iron lock. They couldn't find the key, and reluctantly concluded that searching for it would be a waste of precious time. Anyway, Aaron thought that the caravan masters wouldn't trust the mercenary enough with the bindings - which were the most important items to find. Lydia agreed.

They each took a knife as a weapon, and the rest of the loot would have been left behind had Aaron not insisted they bring it with them, a plan forming in his mind. In the end, the weapons and armor went with them, tightly wrapped in bundles of cloth that would mute any metallic clinking and stowed in a leather bag that Aaron found.

The pair reached the door of the largest wagon, silently panting from their exertions and from the urgency of their task. Aaron felt like he was swimming in a sea of electricity. Or maybe he was walking through a fog of crackling energy. Everything felt so sharp and crisp, his brain seemed sluggish with the millions of thoughts going through it at the same time, and his body was twitchy from the tension. What would happen if they got caught? Would he become one of these so-called sealed slaves?

He shook his head, banishing the terrible thoughts.

They were crouched, staring at each other and absorbing their situation, their senses hyper alert for any signs of danger so deep within enemy territory. Aaron gave his companion a tight smile, and then decisively nodded.

Lydia opened the door of the wagon smoothly, immediately peeking her head in. She froze for a bit, and Aaron watched her in tense silence, barely breathing in the knowledge that Lydia was using her mystical powers once again.

He forced himself to breathe. It wouldn't do to be so tense, it would narrow down his focus, blinding him from threats outside of his field of attention. He learned that from - where?

Aaron released a long breath.

No. Not now.

Finally, Lydia gave him the go signal. "She's in very deep sleep - she shouldn't wake up if we don't make too much noise."

That surprised Aaron. "We just literally hog-tied two grown men without them waking up from your spell." He whispered.

"Those were... different." She struggled to explain. "Sleep is heaviest several moments after you first enter it - I made them sleep that kind of sleep. Serry's already been asleep for some time, I can only make her sleep longer, not deeper."

"Why?"

Lydia shrugged helplessly. "Sleeping minds are different from waking minds."

Aaron breathed deep, calming himself, and nodded. Although it would have been good to know about that beforehand, there was nothing to be done about it now.

"All right," he whispered, "Can we still tie her up?"

The young woman thought for a bit. "Yes, but I'll have to continually feed her sleep with my magic."