Bound in Spirals Ch. 11

"That said you seem skilled for someone who has received no prior training. Likely due to few the fights you've been forced into by chance. However, your biggest issue is your weapon. The sword you're using, it's a sword that requires a lot of skill to use. It is not an ideal novice blade. It is meant for quick cuts or slashes, and it's decent for stabbing. To use it to it's full potential you need a high level of precision. In that way, it's like a slightly heavier rapier. You tend to make heavy hacking swipes, and while the blade has enough weight and is sharp enough to cut through flesh easily, most metal armor will block those kinds of attacks.

"I see. So what you're saying is that I'll need to practice a lot with it." Sam said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. It seemed odd to him how much the normally quiet guard was talking.

"Well, no. I was trying to suggest you trying to use a sword that's more tailored for beginners." Darrel replied. He let out a soft sigh, seeing the intense look in Sam's eyes. "Sure. If you really like that sword I suppose that would be fine as well."

"Okay, let's spar again!" Sam said, feeling that thrill of anticipation once again.

Four hours later, Sam was slumped against the thick roots of one of the enormous trees around the small clearing. His breaths came in wheezy gasps, each one sounding somehow more exhausted than the last. 'Get up, Sam. I need to spar more. More. Yes, I need to keep going! More practice. More time to use the sword...' He tried to stand, but only succeeded in shifting his booted feet in the sparse blades of grass.

'Sam, you should just rest. You've already done enough for the week. You don't need to do that much in just a day.' Samson told him, a faint sense of worry coming from him.

'But... But I was just starting to get better. I should keep going. The Anged'der want me, so I need to be ready. I don't want a recurrence of Eltinn, and I can't... can't let someone be hurt by my problems. I need to be able to control myself, and not rely on my magic so much. And... the sword, I need to hold it more, I-I have to.'

'You've been sparring for three and a half hours straight! You can barely twitch a finger, and you're still wanting to keep going? If you keep this up you'll end up hurting yourself. Practice is good, but if you do too much at once you'll be unable to keep a proper regimen.'

'No... I can keep going, I'll be fine.' Sam forced his head to lift, his legs to move. His whole body felt like it was going to buckle, like all of his muscle had been replaced by jelly. Somehow, he managed to get to his feet, wobbling unsteadily. He felt like he was trying to stand atop an exercise ball.

Darrel watched him from across the brightly lit clearing, arms crossed, expression revealing nothing. Sam nearly fell forward as he bent to pick up his blade. It felt like it weighed a ton all of a sudden. He listed clumsily to the right, then stumbled left as he tried to compensate. Finally, he was forced to steady himself by resting forward against his sword. He leaned to the left and vomited, for the third time.

Darrel sighed. "We're done for the day. You've already surpassed my expectation by quite a bit, so go rest."

"...No. Need... need to go. Keep go...ing." He mumbled out between shaky wheezes.

The sword captain looked to have been about to say something, but closed his mouth as Sam fell straight backward, unconscious.

When Sam came to, he was in the carriage again. It was dark out the window, so it seemed he'd been out for at least 10 hours. He noticed his cloak was spread over him like a blanket, and someone had taken his boots off for him. Just at that moment, they carriage hit a bump it the road. The suspension absorbed most of it, but he was still jostled roughly. He hissed. His body felt like it was just a giant bruise. It was so sore.

'Man, maybe Samson was right...'

'You goddamn know I was right you big idiot! I tried to tell you, but you didn't want to listen. Now you'll be out of commission for the next few days, at least!' Samson said, then sighed. 'Well, hopefully you've learned your lesson after that.'

'Funny, now that you're a god. That phrase has a whole new meaning for you.'

'Ha-ha very clever. Well, maybe from now on you'll listen to your new god more often.'

'Maybe. I don't know, it's not like you've been alive for centuries like the other supposed "gods". Perhaps after you've matured a bit.' Sam replied with a grin.

'You're telling me to mature? You, who only had his first kiss a day ago?'

Sam chuckled aloud, his body cursed him for it. Only then did he realize that Dettella was awake, and looking at him. His cheeks felt hot suddenly, and his arm would have been rubbing the back of his head had it not been too sore to move.

"I, er... I was just thinking about how crazy everything has been for me lately." He tried to explain.

"It has been quite 'crazy', as you say, for me as well. Only a week ago I'd been preparing to take the throne, and now I'm here, forced to flee my country." Dettella said, turning to look out the window at the dark, silhouetted trees lining the road.

"Wait, you were meant to be queen? What happened?" Sam frowned in confusion. 'Don't they just have the usual 'eldest child ascends' system?'

"Well, I cannot say for certain, but I have a theory. What I believe is that my sister, Tenall, used a rare crystal called 'fluerenn' to steal another mage's magic, and that's how she became queen. As I mentioned earlier, my sister is quite twisted, and seemingly wants me dead or captured." She sighed. "I feel bad about leaving my brother behind with her, I should have had him come with me. At the time, I thought having a connection I could trust in Crestell would be good, but now I'm thinking that it was a mistake. I have a bad feeling that she will take her frustrations out on him."

Sam shuddered. If this sister was as bad as the princess made her sound, he felt bad for the brother having to be around her. He could sympathize with his situation. "Um, there's something I don't understand."

"Yes?"

"How did your sister stealing magic change the succession? Is the system not based on the eldest child?"

"Ah, no it's based on who among the children has the highest magical rating. In the south I've heard there is a small country that goes by that system, but it is not very commonly used in this realm. Is that the system they use in your country, Oregon?" Dettella replied.

"Ah, no it's just what most of the countries around mine did. My country isn't even a monarchy." Sam said, wondering if he was giving to much information.

The princess got that twinkle in her eye that she seemed to get whenever she was curious about something. It quickly vanished however, and was replaced by the look of worry she'd had a moment before. "I see. Well, anyway, the fluerenn crystals is just the first thing that came to mind. I don't know for certain whether she used such a method, but I believe she would have had to, to gain such an incredible increase. You see, when we were young, we accidentally saw each other's magic. It happened just after Tenall had her magic released."

"Wait, what do you mean she had her magic 'released'? Does it have to be activated somehow?"

"Yes, of course it does." She laughed, apparently thinking it a joke. When Sam didn't laugh with her she frowned. "You mean you didn't know?"

"Ah-uh, no, um, I... Yeah... I don't really know." Sam answered, feeling a little self-conscious all of a sudden.

"Well, the way it works is, when you're born your magic is closed off. It's still there, it's just blocked from access. So, to access it, you would use a 'release page'. I've heard you can activate it without the use of a release page, but it requires years of time spent meditating. But, since release pages have become so accessible it's very uncommon to hear about that method."

"Release page? What are they like?" He asked, recalling the portal page that brought him to this world.

"Well, they're made using severing magic. It's somewhat like looking down a hallway. The process is very painful, I remember it clearly, even though it was almost 20 years ago when I had my magic released, I was only five at the time. It felt like having something ripped out of me, something intangible."

"I-I see..." That sounded exactly like what he'd felt just before being transported by the portal page. "And these release pages, you said they're easily accessible?"

"Oh yes. They're everywhere now, even the most remote towns have at least one of them. They're supposedly quite easy to make, and require very little power. In that manner, they are unlike portal pages, which are similar in appearance. Crestell only has one portal page, and it's hidden among the old artifacts in the treasury."

"Interesting." Sam said. 'A portal page in Crestell. If I were to get back to my world, I would definitely need to get one of those... But since it only works with a person on the reverse side, would it even be possible? I don't even know if I would want to go back...'

"Portal page..." Dettella muttered. She glanced up at Sam, with something akin to realization in her eyes. Her expression became thoughtful, her hand coming to her chin. Then, she shook her head, apparently dismissing the idea.

'Should I just tell her? I trust her, don't I?' He glanced at Giela who was sleeping next to Dettella. 'Maybe later. Now isn't the best time. I should probably change the subject...'

"Oh, I heard that it was you who had made the soup this morning. Was that true?" The princess said, changing it for him.

"Ah, yeah that was me." Sam replied.

"Really? It was delicious. The use of spice to accent the tates was wonderful. Do you have some sort of formal training in cooking?" She asked.

He felt his blush creep up once again. "Oh, er... No, my dad just taught me how to cook a few things. It was always something he enjoyed..." He recalled sitting atop the tall blue stool next to his father, watching him cook. Sam smiled wistfully. 'I miss you dad... Even though everything is your fault. You told me those words, and I trusted you. I believed in you, and you betray me? You deserved to die, I just wish you'd suffered more. I hate you... No, no what am I saying? I loved you dad, don't listen to what he's saying. I still love you... But it is true that it's your fault. All my pain, everything Britney and Madeline did...'

He laughed softly, clutching his head. It seemed as if all his soreness had disappeared, all he felt was a burning anger in his heart. 'No, I'm wrong. It's Britney's fault. If it weren't for her, dad wouldn't have died. Britney killed him. Everything she ever did was to make me suffer, so it's only logical that she would have killed him. With him around, she couldn't get to me. He was an obstacle in her mind, just a stupid man who wouldn't let her have her fun. Then she made her daughter do it too, made her molest me. She must have had it planned all along...'

His laughter became shrill. 'Sam? What's wrong with you, why are you acting like that?' Samson asked, coming forward.

"It's her fault, it's all her fault. She killed dad, murdered him in cold blood. Her fault her fault her fault her fault..." Sam's mind whirled. He had to escape, he had to get away from her grasp. If only he could force his way out of her reach, he could live his own life. No more pain, no more suffering. He could be free. Free to live happily like he used to, with his father. With his magic, he could find a way to reach the place where dead people go. He could bring back his father, then Britney wouldn't be able to torment him...

'Ah, that's it! That's it, that's it! I know now!' He thought. 'I'll just kill her!' He laughed cheerfully. 'Why didn't I think of this before! I'll just torture her. Make her suffer like I did! I'll flay her slowly, make it last a while. Oh man, her screams will be delightful. Oh oh! I know, I'll kill Madeline first! Right in front of her! Oh this is wonderful!'

"Samson. Samson!"

He felt someone shaking his shoulders. 'Why are you shaking me. I'm trying to come up with a plan. I must decide which torture methods to test first. Please stop distracting me.'

"Samson, what is wrong? Please tell me. I can help, I will fix it."

'I'm busy, please come back later. I need to think about this. Ah, I can just heal her with magic to make it last longer! Oh how perfect. Perfect, perfect, perfect, perfect, perfect. So wonderful, so great.' He laughed again.

Something pressed against his lips. It was soft. So soft... He smelled... He smelled paper... paper and jasmine... He saw green. Brilliant green. Through his blurred vision, he could see an exquisite verdant green. Blinking away his tears, he focused on that green. It pulled him out of the pit of negative emotions that he'd begun falling into.

His thoughts became more coherent, and he realized the princess was kissing him. It was the third time this had happened, yet it was still just as shocking. 'Why?' He wondered. 'Why would someone so beautiful, so amazing... Why would someone like that go for me? She could have any man she wanted, yet she likes me? Me, pathetically weak man. A man who is half out of his mind, perhaps worse. It just makes no sense. Is it pity?'

The tears of anger, confusion, and grief continued to fall as he let himself be drawn into the kiss. 'I don't understand it, but I will savor it nonetheless.' Both of their eyes closed as they relished the contact. Samson's presence seemed to fade back again, apparently feeling like an intruder. Finally, he broke away from the embrace. Half due to a need to breathe, half because he wanted to tell her something.

Sam's body continued to tremble as he took her hands in his. "Thank you. I-I..." He paused, not sure if he could continue. "I don't... I don't know if I would still be even a little bit sane right now if it weren't for you. I probably would have killed myself or been killed by now, or just lost my mind completely... So, for that I'm very grateful. In return, when we get a chance I want to talk to you about some things when we're alone. It, It's not really a fair trade I suppose, but I guess it's the best I can do at the moment."

Dettella made eye contact with him, her expression solemn. "Alright. And, Samson, you shouldn't feel as if you need to repay me for this. I do it because I want to. It is not a burden, and you shouldn't think of yourself as a problem for me. I was serious when I said that I am attracted to you, and I would not hesitate to help you in any way I can."

"I-I appreciate that. It means a lot to me." His mouth involuntarily turned in a slight smile. "By the way, you kiss really well. It's feels really nice when you're pressed up against me. It's like, it's like I can almost feel your emotions. Not that I'm an expert or anything, you're the only woman I've ever kissed."

She blushed bright pink. "D-Don't say that so loudly!" Despite her words, her lips formed a smile. "Well, that's still good to hear... I was a little worried that my own inexperience would show itself."

"You know, you're six years older than me." Sam replied, a teasing grin making it's way onto his face. "Some might consider that scandalous, you know."

Her face turned almost red. "W-Well... M-My mother was 246 and still courting men who were less than a quarter her age before she died. S-So, for a princess this is nothing." Dettella said, her back straightening as she spoke.

Sam's jaw dropped. "Wha... Holy crap. Your mom must have had major game." He chuckled. He was realizing that he was able to feel more comfortable around Dettella than he had around anyone, at least since his father died. He was also noticing that it was fun to tease the princess a little. At times it felt like she was so dignified and noble that she was out of reach, but seeing her blush and get flustered like that seemed to bring her down to earth a little. Make her feel more human to him.

Dettella's blush faded slightly, and she relaxed back into the comfortable seat of the carriage. "Well, you might not know this yet, but I have 212 brothers and sisters."

Sam's jaw dropped again. "How?! How could your mother even manage that?!"

The princess shrugged. "It's how most of Crestell's queens are. They work hard to find a suitable successor. It is preferred that the queen survive for a long time, so they seek to produce high level magic in a child. It helps to keep a level of stability in the country. Sometimes a queen will stop after only a few children, but it is rare and considered by most as irresponsible."

"So you would have had that many children too if you'd become queen?" He asked, still baffled by the amounts of pain the queen must have gone through. It sounded impossible.

"I don't know. I never really thought about it. Though I probably would have." Dettella's expression became thoughtful. "My mother once told me that it gets easier after a while, but I don't know if I could manage the feats she did. She was quite a strong woman, and she did care about the country and worked hard for it's sake. Even if I don't agree with everything she believed in, I still respected her quite a lot."

Sam nodded. "You should probably get some sleep, you look a bit tired." He said, noticing her drooping eyes.

She gave him a soft smile. "Yes, I suppose you're right. We should both get some more sleep before we arrive at Geylin tomorrow. I have a feeling we might need the energy."

He nodded again, feeling his body's fatigue calling for him to rest. They both closed their eyes, and surrendered to sleep. For the first time since Eltinn, Sam dreamt.

Pain. So much pain. His whole body screamed in pain. Not just his body, his mind, his heart. It all hurt.

'Why does it hurt so much?' He wondered, surprisingly calm. 'My neck, my hand. Why do they hurt?'

Somehow, he knew he had to do something. What it was however, he knew not.

'The ring? That must be it, right?' He thought. 'No, that's not all.'

'The queen of black, the queen of white. They will leave with you only pain, queenkiller. O Hanged Man, bringer of peril and liberty. The twelfth of the prophesied, your fate is one of many tragedies.' A voice boomed.

'What do you mean?' He replied softly. 'Can I change my fate?'

'I pity you, traveler. For your end is sealed, but perhaps you may break the chains of destiny, and change the journey. There may be moments for you to redirect your path, but ultimately, it will always lead back to the main road.' The voice replied after a moment.

'I see.' He said. 'But, who are you? Why are you telling me this?'

'I am but a humble messenger, that is all. I tell you because I must. I am a messenger.' The voice answered. 'Hanged Man, remember your name. Remember your fate, and perhaps you may twist it. Now I must say farewell to you, O Hanged Man. For I must follow my duty, and deliver the messages.'

'Goodbye.' The Hanged Man said in a whisper, and the messenger was gone. As the dream faded away, he muttered, 'So much pain...'

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Thus ends Chapter 11. Thank you all for reading! If you have time, please leave a comment! I love reading them and I always look forward to seeing what you guys think!

P.S. I wanted to say that I did read all of the comments on the last chapter, but I didn't respond to very many of them like I usually do. I feel like I clutter up the comments, but I'll probably start responding again anyway, haha. I also wanted to thank those of you who left a suggestion or criticism last chapter! They were very insightful, and gave me a perspective different from my own. There are many things that, as the writer, I cannot see. So, it's always good to hear more viewpoints like that! It made me see a few of the issues, and when I eventually get around to re-editing that chapter I'll be sure to fix them.