Bound in Spirals Ch. 04

Sam tried to contact Samson several times as they ran, but he'd retreated from his mind. 'Dammit, your friend is suffering and you flee like a goddamn coward!' Sam thought with unbridled rage. 'If you return I will make you regret it.' He growled furiously, and put the thoughts aside. There were more important things at the moment.

'Letta set him down, I need to try to help him if I can.' Sam said grimly.

Letta slowed, and slumped to the ground. She released Theodore from her maw, and he rolled out in a wet, bloody pile. Large puncture wounds lined his chest where Letta had bit down on him, and his legs were riddled with craters, oozing dark blood. Just above where his boots had been was the worst. There, rings sloped outward, showing bone in the deepest areas. Sam winced, knowing he could not fix this. Theodore was scratching away skin on his face as he howled. Tears streaked with red poured from his wide eyes.

Sam said a silent prayer to a god he didn't believe in, that his only friend in this world would survive somehow. He reached tentatively for his power, and rested his hands gently on Theodore. He looked down into eyes that didn't see him back, and channeled his magic into Theodore. The torn skin on his head sealed quickly, and the wounds in his abdomen clasped closed a second after. The crippled legs remained unchanged.

'Letta, what do I do? Is there anyway we can save him?' He asked despairingly.

Letta did not answer for what seemed to be a long time. Sam stared down at the man who's body had paled with blood loss. His screams had died down, as his consciousness drifted away.

"Dammit, if we get you out of this alive you aren't going looking for food alone ever again..." Sam whispered.

Suddenly, a warped elation ran through Sam, and distantly he realized he hadn't released his hold on his power. As he glanced over Theodore's wounds once again, he giggled madly. He barely managed to crush down his magic, and clenched his hands on his knees. Tears fell from his eyes and he sobbed. He'd begun to hate himself for those feelings, whether he'd thought them himself or not. Finally, Letta spoked to him.

'I think the only chance he has, is to find one of the forest elves who has the magic.' She said weakly, and Sam remembered what she'd explained to him the day before. 'In my current condition, I think we can reach the nearest of their settlements in 5 days. He does not have that long.'

Sam pounded his fists into the hard earth, and yelled in frustration. He hadn't felt so useless since his father had died, 6 years back. He looked back to the unconscious Theodore, who was now breathing laboredly. Blood was pooled around his legs. Sam reached his magic again, and pressed his hands on Theodore, hoping for a different result somehow. The glittering patterns extended from his hands, and encasing Theodore's limp form.

The blood around his legs streamed upward and poured back into his open wounds. Theodore's skin regained it's color slightly, but the leg wounds still did not close and the blood began seeping out once again. As he looked, Sam thought he saw something strange. He leaned in closer to the open pits, and he saw something of a transparent green color. 'Uh oh...'

"Crap, some of the slime is still in his legs!" Sam said. "Fuckin' hell."

He tried to stick his fingers in and pull the slime out, but it started to eat away at him. He cursed and shook his stinging hand.

"I can't get it out." He said, looking at the reddened skin on his fingertips. He wracked his brain for anything that would save Theodore. A last resort option passed through his mind. He nearly disregarded it, but Theodore's situation was beyond desperate...

———

Tenall strode down the corridor, barely keeping her smile dignified as she anticipated the coming events. Behind her back, her hands tensed and released with excitement. The day she would be announced the next queen had come, and she would delight in seeing her sister's reaction to her superior power. The potion the priest had brought her had increased her magic just enough to surpass Dettella in time for the ceremony.

In the kingdom of Crestell, the people were clamoring with the hope of her sister's rise to the high seat following their mother's untimely death. Tenall would have liked to have had her sister killed prior to her mother, to lessen suspicion, but it only required minor rearrangements to her plans. The beginning of which would take effect that day, and after the ceremony she would become a far less likely suspect of her sister's assassination. After all, what reason would the new queen have to kill the perfect sister so dear to her heart?

Tenall breathed deeply to calm her nerves as she stopped at the end of the hall, just before the large white marble doors to the grand hall. Her guards stepped forward in their adorned purple armor and prepared to push open the ornate, heavy doors. She assumed her most graceful smile and straightened her back. Clasping her hands as the men pushed, she walked onto her first stage.

———

Hennel watched from the side of the hall as Tenall approached the dais where the power gauges stood tall. He knew his sister was planning something, what it was he had no clue, but he could tell by the strained poise she was showing. He did not like what his instincts were telling him. She hated both him and their older sister, Dettella. He had never been fond of her either, but he did not despise her as she did him. She was conceited, devious, devoted to power and he suspected she would kill anyone in the kingdom, if given the chance, but he couldn't hate her.

She stepped up onto the violet carpeted platform and the small crowd of high nobles and powerful mages silenced. They stared at her, waiting with bated breath for the other princess to arrive shortly after. Tenall's dress was a shimmering black that refracted the light from the impressive crystal chandelier that hung high in the hall. Hennel saw her cheek twitch under her long golden bangs, as though she was struggling to contain laughter.

He wanted to fidget in his stuffy suit, trying to keep from scratching the itch on his side. Tenall took in the crowd slowly, pausing on him for a fraction of a second. Her lip pulled up in that moment and only Hennel saw it. The contempt only showing to his concentrated scrutiny of her, and even he wasn't sure he'd seen it. His face remained outwardly emotionless, as was expected of one of the high guard.

He was supposed to remain impartial to the selection like the rest of the guard, but he could not help his leaning toward Dettella. The outcome was fairly certain from his point of view, as he'd been able to see each of their abilities personally, unlike most, and he knew that Dettella would win. She had shown superior control and capacity for magic from the few moments he'd seen it. Though, princesses are never gauged until the selection, so he did not know her class specifically but he'd have guessed she was SS.

Suddenly, the crowd's whispers resumed and their attention turned from Tenall. From the opposite side of the hall, the sound of the massive black marble doors scraped outward. The 2 high guards stepped aside and in walked Dettella. Her light blonde hair pulled back in a long, loose braid. The pale gold and silver dress she wore was just as stunning as Tenall's, but maintained Dettella's more reserved personality. The high collar was fringed with white. Intricate whirls of gold and silver caught the eye as she stepped, and it seemed to swim along the fabric.

Her hands clasped in front of her, Dettella stepped up onto the dais and nodded to the gathering of people. The crowd cooed delightedly. Her light smile and kind eyes were genuine. Out of the corner of his eye Hennel caught a sneer on Tenall's face which quickly vanished as Dettella turned to her. The quiet chatter died down as the princesses approached the gauges. Dettella removed a pristine white glove, and Tenall removed a purple one.

That was his cue, and he stepped forward from his position to the side. He raised a black gloved hand and spoke rehearsed words in his sonorous voice.

"Today we join to decide the succession of the royal family. Following tradition, the new queen shall be chosen by the measure of their power. Place your right hands on the gauge." Tenall's hand rose and she placed it on the thin metal grip that jutted from the side of the massive gray gauge, Dettella did the same on the opposite gauge. "Now please summon your magic forth."

On Tenall's sleeveless arm dark lines streamed to her fingertips, like liquid flowing through cracks. When it touched the grip, the lines widened and seemed to suck in the light around her skin, causing shadows to obscure her slightly. Dettella's power rose from under her skin gradually. Glistering silver patterns crested to the top of her half covered arm, and twinkled like the light that shone through the crystals above. Hennel wondered what it must have looked like to the people who had no magic of their own.

Suddenly, the gauges came to life. Replications of their magic ran up the machines that only the halflings could make. Hennel watched with disbelief as Dettella's power peaked just above the line indicating the lowest of SS class, and Tenall's continued. His composure cracked and his mouth dropped open. It hit it's cap just below the SSS class line. For a moment he forgot the words he had to say next.

"I-I..." He stammered, then managed to recover enough to speak. "Tenall Reyall ascends to the high seat from this day until her death..."

You could have heard a pin drop in the silence of the room as he finished speaking. Tenall had a wild grin on her face, that only he and Dettella could see due to her lowered head. He watched as Dettella removed her hand from the gauge, and pulled her glove on. She curtsied with unmatched grace.

"I swear my fealty to queen Tenall." She said with closed eyes and a hand over her breast. Her smile was unmarred by the shock everyone else had expressed.

Hennel looked at the new queen and saw her victorious glee turn into a hateful scowl when Dettella did not give her the reaction she wanted. Dettella stood up straight and clasped her hands in front once again. Then, she turned and walked from the room, leaving everyone still in shock.

The high guard followed Dettella's example as soon as she'd exited the room, and swore fealty. Hennel did so grudgingly, and strode from the room...

———

Sam looked back toward where he'd bound Theodore to Letta's back. The stumps of what remained of his legs after the amputation were wrapped in the red shirt he'd been wearing before. Sam had done the best he could considering his very limited knowledge on the procedure, and a poor work environment. Letta had stopped several times now so that he could use his magic on Theodore to put as much blood he could back into him until it coagulated.

"Hang in there buddy, we'll get you to the elves. They'll heal your legs, I'm sure of it." Sam said to the unconscious Theodore.

Letta's pace had slowed to less than half her previous speed, and she was still running on three legs. She had barely spoken since they'd started traveling, despite Sam's repeated attempts to reassure her. Samson still had not resurfaced either, though Sam did not really care to speak to him again at that moment.

'This would not have happened were I to have listened to you, like I should have.' Letta said to him finally. 'I was a fool. I am sorry, master.'

Sam shook his head frustratedly. 'Enough with that crap already. Regretting it now won't make it any better, just worry about getting us to Eltinn as fast as you can.' He said. She seemed to be pondering his words for a while and did not end up responding, but her pace did increase gradually from that point.

Letta ran on for the rest of the day without pause, and Sam began to regret not bringing the raw potatoes, despite his previous complaints. By the time night fell, they had put the misty plains far behind and Sam was grateful to be able to see the clear night sky. He wondered if Letta would stop soon, but it seemed that she was determined not to until they reached the town. The night was uneventful compared to the previous days.

By morning Sam worried that Theodore's wounds might have gotten infected. His body was coated in a film of sweat and his breathing was ragged. He found himself beginning to doubt that Theodore would live long enough to reach the elves. 'If Theodore dies... Where do I go from there...? No, I can't let myself despair, I have to keep Letta going if nothing else. I will get Theodore back to his family alive, legs or not.'

'Can you relax your hands on my fur, please? It hurts, master.' Letta said softly, breaking him from his puzzlings.

He loosened his clenched hands. 'Oh, er... sorry.'

———

Tenall stormed into her new chambers late in the night. After a banquet that seemed like it would never end, she had a day's worth of pent up anger.

"That scummy wench did not even raise an eyebrow when I destroyed her dreams! Grrragh!" She shouted, and slammed the diamond chalice of elven wine against the wall. The dark liquid splashed onto the elaborate portrait of her mother that still hung in the room. "She was supposed to feel defeated! Stuck up cunt just smiled like nothing was wrong. She couldn't have known, right? I had that priest's family, h-he couldn't have told!"

She paced in front of the enormous, canopied bed. She was tempted to go kill Dettella personally, but discarded the idea after a few minutes. "Well, no matter. She'll be dead soon enough anyway, and I will have the kingdom to do with as I choose. Gah, if only I could kill her myself! See the terror in her eyes as I slowly suffocate her, and I could bring that lapdog of hers in too, torture him to death right in front of her. HA! Oh how sweet that would be..." She shook her head, and tried to calm her excited breathing.

"I will have him killed soon as well, but I cannot kill them at the same time, unfortunately. Then, the only siblings I shall have left will be those powerless wretches, and I will be able to take my time killing them." She mumbled to herself, her anger drifting away to be replaced with glee. She sat on the soft, white fur covered bed and ran her fingers over the gilded post.

Her mind turned to thoughts of the ongoing war with Stralden, she would kill their queen as well she decided. "Insolent old hag... Thinking to defeat us was a fool's dream." She would not continue to defend as they had before, no, she would conquer them and destroy their silly ideals just as she had her sister's.

"To think the imbecile attacked us just because we enslave women as well as men, hehehe... Perhaps I will keep her alive though, but only long enough for her to see her precious 'morals' crushed." She mused aloud. Her exhaustion began catching up to her, and she removed her black dress then slipped into a silk robe that was lying on the plush purple chair in the corner.

She yawned as she slid under the thick covers, and she was asleep almost before she hit the engulfing pillows.

———

Sam shaded his eyes with a hand. Letta said they were close to Eltinn, but he had still yet to see it on the horizon. He felt the midday sun beating down on him as he scanned. They needed water soon, Theodore especially, and at that point it seemed they would have to wait until they reached the town.

Sam glanced back at Theodore's pale body, still slick with sweat. He'd been too afraid to check his wounds since they'd scabbed over, he didn't want to see the beginning of infection that he was sure was there. 'Not like there's anything I can do for that...' Sam thought. 'I hope they've got a decent doc or something in Eltinn, at least good enough for Theodore to live until I get him to the elves.'

'It is there.' Letta said suddenly and Sam turned forward again.

He squinted and thought he could just pick out some small lumps in the distance. "Those must be houses or something..." He murmured under his breath, then to Letta said, 'I'll have you drop us off outside the town and I'll carry him in or something. Don't need the extra attention right now.'

'Yes, master.' She replied meekly.

Sam winced when she referred to him as 'master'. He found that he preferred Letta's previous more defiant, self-confident attitude. It just didn't feel right for her to seem so weak all of a sudden. 'I could understand her regret, but I don't know why she's so... depressed. I feel kinda guilty somehow too, just by talking to her.' He rubbed the back of his head as he pondered the troubling things.

As she ran, Sam was able to catch a glimpse of a large lake off to the right of the town, before they went down the hill and it disappeared again. When he looked at it he realized how dehydrated he really was. 'Damn, I need to get Theodore water, and fast. If I'm this thirsty...' His thought cut off as he saw a farmhouse just to their left. There was a man working the plowed field, but his back was turned to them. When they were out of sight from the farmer, Sam realized he'd been holding his breath and shook his head.

'Fool, even if a few people see her, we'll be out of town before it spreads too much anyways.' He chided himself. He rubbed his eyes after letting out a yawn. 'Maybe we can sleep here for the night or something though, at least a cat nap.' He shook his head again to try to wake himself up, he had important things to do first.

Letta slowed to a halt about half a mile from the edge of the small town, and let Sam off. He unbound Theodore and hefted his limp form up onto his shoulder. Theodore murmured something unintelligible as Sam grunted under his weight. 'You'd think he'd be a little lighter after taking off his legs.' Sam reproached himself for the thoughts. 'I shouldn't be fooling around right now.' He sighed and started a slow jog.

'Master, what do you wish me to do?' Letta said. 'Shall I wait here?'

Sam turned with a frown, and thought for a moment. 'Just go hide somewhere by the lake, you need to drink as much as any of us.' He replied, after seeing her heavy panting. 'I'll come see you when I can. And, don't worry about Theodore, I won't let him die. I promise.'

Letta nodded her head at that. Sam gave a rueful smile to her, and turned back toward Eltinn. Despite his words, Sam was not feeling very optimistic about how things were going. 'I'll try to see if I can get the doc to treat her wounds too, if I even find one.'

When he passed the first building, which he couldn't tell the purpose of, he was breathing even harder than Letta had been. He needed sleep more than he'd thought, it seemed. Ahead, he could see someone walking past. As he came closer, he saw that it was a middle aged woman. She wore tall leather boots, short brown pants, and a beige tank top. She turned to look at him curiously as he stopped in front of her.

He tried to speak, but only managed to gasp for air. She seemed to notice Theodore and her eyes widened. "You need Mother Ranlenn. Follow. Quickly boy!" She said when Sam looked at her bewilderedly, and started off towards the middle of town at a brisk pace.

Sam followed, barely keeping his clumsy legs from buckling under him. His eyes stared at the woman's back and didn't see anything else. He was so focused on moving forward, that he nearly bumped into her when she stopped for a moment.

"Oi, you there! Help this kid carry em, he need be over to Mother Ranlenn." The woman shouted to a pair of confused men who had been chatting outside a house. Sam was aware of Theodore's weight being taken from him, and he clutched him for a moment before realizing they were helping.

"Th-Thanks," Sam managed between gasps. The woman slowed down to walk next to him as the two men carried Theodore ahead.