Bound in Spirals Ch. 02

"Next I should teach you the basic ways to control your magic." She said. "The first thing you should know, is that when you are in the act of using magic, when you are focusing it, it will not muddle your mind. The easiest way to keep it from effecting your mind like earlier, is to cut the connection as soon as you have finished the task. However, that loses effectiveness the longer the task takes.

"So, as long as you are doing simple things, it should not bother you, but obviously that is not always possible. Unfortunately, the only way to reduce the side effects, is simply training your mind against it. The reason this poses a problem is because it takes a very long time before becoming immune." She sighed and rubbed her temples, as if remembering painful memories. "In most cases this takes years of practice."

"How do..." Sam started, but was cut off by a cacophony of a blaring horns.

Sam's head swiveled in confusion. The extended trumpeting cut off sharply, and was followed by a series of stunted notes. Sam looked back to Delinna for some sort of response, but the one he got was not what he expected. Her eyes were wide and staring, her head pointed to the left. Her mouth was moving, as if muttering to herself. Inside, Sam was starting to panic. Suddenly, Delinna's gaze turned back to Sam.

"Get up, in that tent over there is a sword, take it and run to the council tent." She said stolidly.

Sam sat frozen for a moment. He gulped as he watched Delinna sprint off toward where she'd been looking seconds before.

"What the hell?! Wait, what's going on?!" He yelled to her, but no response came. "Goddammit! Who the hell does that?! Just leaving me here clueless!"

'Screw it.' Sam stood hurriedly, and ran to the tent she'd pointed out. He fumbled with the opening, the canvas slipping from his shaking grasp. The tent was furnished with racks of weaponry. Axes, swords, and bows lined the edges. 'Which sword?!' Sam thought exasperatedly.

His question was quickly answered. He saw the sheathed sword lying flat on a low, stone table in the center of the tent. Grabbing the sword, Sam ran back out the entrance, nearly tripping over his own feet. Once back in the clearing, Sam's panic rose as he realized he had no idea where the council tent was from there. Cursing under his breath, Sam made a hasty decision.

Sam ran across the clearing, heading in the direction opposite of Delinna. He saw his jacket still lying where he'd dropped it, and next to it was the knife he'd torn from his arm. He decided to grab both of them, not knowing what kind of situation he was in.

"Into the maze, I guess..." Sam muttered, holding the sword in one hand, and the knife and jacket in the other.

Sam ran fast and straight through the tents, unfortunately not finding anyone. His stamina depleted quickly, and he slowed to a jog. Everywhere were white tents, no distinguishing landmarks to indicate his location at all. 'What a stupid design. How can anyone find anything in this damned place?' he grumbled.

After running what seemed to be miles, he finally found the edge of the encampment. He scanned the open landscape, and saw nothing but flat land. Dead plants specked the plains in small patches, and Sam decided then, that running out there thoughtlessly would leave him as dead as the grass. His mind cleared of it's earlier panic, he thought of his options.

He flopped down onto the ground, wiping the sweat from his forehead. 'What should I do? Delinna seemed worried about something, something I'd be willing to bet is dangerous. Probably that other army.' He rested his chin on his hand as he pondered. 'But, no one seemed worried earlier... What could have changed?' His thoughts were interrupted by a distant voice. Sam perked up, and twisted his head, searching for the source.

About a quarter mile to his right, Sam saw a man in gleaming red armor waving his hands above his head franticly.

"Samson! Samson, this way!" He called.

Sam stood abruptly and started jogging in that direction. As he approached, the man took off his helm. Underneath was a head of wavy blonde hair, and a handsome face coated with stubble. The eyes were the same intense green ones he'd glimpsed earlier that day. His expression was grim, as he walked toward Sam. He stuck his helm in the crook of his right arm, and opened his mouth to speak, but Sam cut him off quickly.

"What's going on? Is it the other army? Where's everyone else?" Sam rattled off.

"Hold on Samson, give me a second." The man said with a sigh. "We need to make haste, the council has already taken off with the last of the carriages and the winnem."

"Wait, what's a winnem?" Sam interrupted again.

"Huh? Oh, they're the big animals that people ride." He answered. "Anyways, yes, the enemy has overcome our forces. Supposedly they had around 10,000 new soldiers, and they circled around us. We don't really know the specifics at the moment, but we need to retreat to warn the capital."

"O-Okay. Uh, what do we do?" Sam asked, his fear returning.

"Well, we will have to travel on foot for now. The town of Eltinn is about a weeks time in that direction." The man said, pointing straight into the distance. "If we run, we should catch up to the convoy sometime tonight, dawn at the latest."

Sam ran a hand back through his hair and groaned inwardly.

"Can you run very long in that armor?"

"Not likely, thank you for reminding me." He said and started removing the heavy plate. "We'll have plenty of time for more questions on the way, we shouldn't waste it here."

Underneath the armor was a maroon shirt in the same style as that which Sam wore, and the same pants and boots. 'I think I kinda like the uniformity of the clothes, at least...' Sam thought amusedly. As the man picked up his lance, Sam realized he hadn't gotten the man's name earlier.

"Hey, uh, I never got your name earlier." Sam said, involuntarily rubbing the back of his head.

"Oh, my apologies, I'm Theodore. Theodore Granic." He replied, grinning and extending a hand toward Sam. He shook it firmly.

"Alrighty, let's go then."

The two ran for an hour straight with little communication due to Sam needing to focus all his energy on running to keep up with Theodore. Finally, Sam was forced to take a break to catch his breath. He stumbled and fell flat on his stomach, dropping everything he was holding in the process. Groaning, Sam rolled over onto his back and laid there wheezing for several minutes, unable to speak. Theodore remained standing, show very little fatigue.

As Sam felt some energy return, he sat up and stretched out, not wanting his muscles to tighten. 'It looks like it's about 3." Sam estimated, looking at the position of the sun. 'That is, if time is the same here...' Sam looked to Theodore, expecting some sort of mocking from the man, but none came.

"I'm a bit surprised you kept my pace for that long, we might end up catching them right around sundown." Theodore said.

"Yeah, how the hell aren't you at least breathing heavily right now?!" Sam laughed.

"Hah, I used to be able to run from dawn till dusk, but I've lost quite a bit of my previous conditioning." He replied with a big smile.

Sam just shook his head as Theodore offered him a hand. He was pulled to his feet, and he quickly started brushing the dirt from his clothing. He grabbed his belongings from the ground, and situated himself once again. He decided to wrap the knife in his jacket for now, since he had no sheath. Sam examined the sword, looking for a strap somewhere.

"Hey, uh... is there a strap or something on this thing?" Sam asked, frowning.

"Well you can just use a bind, you don't really need straps." Theodore said.

"Oh, right. I'm not really sure I can do that yet." He said, still perturbed by his reaction to magic earlier.

He almost resigned to just carrying it when he remembered what Delinna had said. 'I can't just stay afraid of it. Besides, it's a small thing, I can cut off the magic quickly.' Despite his thoughts, he was still shaken up.

"Uh, where's the best place to put it do you think?" Sam asked, looking to Theodore.

"Hmm. Probably on your back, like this." He said, drawing a line across Sam's back with his finger.

"Alright, I'll try it. If I, er... lose control, don't be afraid to hurt me, I can heal well enough." Sam replied, looking into Theodore's eyes with a new confidence.

'I really have no idea where to start with this, I haven't practiced at all yet.' He thought as he brought the sword to his back. 'Guess I'll just try to imagine the magic there or something.' Sam breathed deeply and exhaled slowly, steeling his nerves. He reached for his power and immediately saw the pulsating lines. As he did, he felt a push against his mind, like a forgotten memory. It was as though he already knew what to do.

'Just feel the sheath, focus on it, and direct the power there.' Sam immediately felt it connect, like holding two magnets near, it snapped to his back. He quickly pulled his mind out from his magic, and sighed with relief as he felt normal once again. Letting go of the sword, he felt exhilaration run through him as it remained on his back.

"YES! It worked! It worked!" He yelled, jumping with joy. "WOOHOO!!"

He stopped suddenly, seeing the amused grin on Theodore's face. Instant embarrassment flooded Sam. 'That was an odd outburst, I'm not normally one to do that.' He felt his cheeks burning as he rubbed the back of his head. Theodore walked over to him and whacked him on the shoulder.

"That was a sight to behold." He said with a chuckle. "I don't think I've ever seen someone with such bright forms before."

"Forms? What do you mean by that?" Sam asked in return, raising an eyebrow.

"That's what we call it when the patterns show up on your skin, when you use your magic." Theodore answered.

Sam nodded and turned his attention to his sword. He jumped to test the sheathes stability on his back and found it did not shake at all, and still allowed him to move his shoulders without encumbrance.

"So, would this like drain my energy over time or anything?" Sam said.

"Delinna did not have much time with you did she." He replied, somewhat solemnly. "Once a bind is placed, it will remain without need for energy. So, unless someone severs it, or the binder deactivates it, it will stay intact."

"I see." Sam said softly. "Hey, if you don't mind me asking, how do you know so much? Are you a, uh... mage as well?"

Theodore laughed and shook his head.

"No no, I am but a normal man. My family owns a library in Dentlin. Growing up I read just about every book in there, and a few more than once." He answered. "That is where the majority of my knowledge comes from."

"Oh, I work in a library back home! I always read during my breaks, anything that seems interesting." Sam said, elated at finding something in common.

"What a funny coincidence. Is that where you found the portal page?" Theodore inquired.

"Yeah it is actually. It was in a dusty old storage room, in some strange book."

Theodore rubbed his stubble thoughtfully and Sam waited for some sort of response, but none came. Suddenly, he turned to Sam.

"Do you know how to use that thing?" He asked.

"The sword? No, not really. Only what I've read about, and I don't remember much."

Sam pulled out the sword slowly with his right hand, relishing the sound of it. 'I have never felt more badass.' He thought. His first glimpse of the sword mesmerized him. It's weight was well balanced in his hands and felt easy to handle. The blade was of a dark metal, a matte gray, with intricate black patterns lining the flat center. Immediately, he thought it strange. It was long, but far thinner, and narrower than any longsword he'd seen. He whacked the flat of it against his hand, testing the sturdiness.

His confusion increased as it remained rigid. Sam felt the soft black leather hand and a half grip under his fingers, and brushed his thumb across the thin cross guard. He turned back to Theodore.

"How is this sword even functional? This thing should be really brittle, but it doesn't seem to be?"

"Ah, that is made of velta. It's the about strongest metal in the realm, for how light it is." Theodore answered. "The swords made from it are generally on the smaller side, due to the cost. Honestly, I am a bit surprised the council gave one to you. No offense, but it would be more useful in a trained soldier's hand."

"Maybe you should take it then, you're definitely better than I am." Sam said, holding the sword out to the man.

"No no, I can't fight with a sword for shite. Besides, you will learn to use it soon enough, I'm sure."

At that, Sam put the sword gently back into the sheath, careful not to miss the mouth.

"We should, uh, probably get moving again." Sam said sheepishly. "Though, maybe we could start a little slower."

Theodore chuckled, "Alright, the sooner we catch up, the sooner we can eat and drink."

"So, how did the group get so far ahead of us? I ran straight this direction as soon as the horn blew." Sam asked, after a half hour of jogging in silence.

Theodore sighed solemnly, "We got the warning nearly an hour before the alert, just after I got back to the council, one of mages managed to get out of the enemy trap and made it back. The council decided that in order to protect the 'important persons', that they would leave behind most of the wounded and serving folk as a distraction. Coincidentally, they fall under the 'important persons' list." He said it with clear cynicism, and looked down mournfully.

Sam felt a sudden disdain for them at that, and clenched his fists angrily.

Theodore continued, "I was assigned to alert a few others then retrieve you and Delinna and bring you as well, but neither of you were at the training facility by the time I managed to get there. I figured she would have taken you to the council, then when you weren't there I ran to the outskirts and came across you fairly quickly after. I assume she went to fight."

"Yeah, I didn't know where the council tent was, so I just ran straight in the opposite direction from her." Sam replied, downcast.

"I wouldn't worry too much about her Samson, she's more resilient than most." Theodore said and patted his shoulder.

Sam nodded, and increased his pace, not feeling much for talking anymore.

A few hours later, just before the sun set, the terrain began to change beneath their feet. The dry plants became greener, the dirt softer, and in the distance, Sam could see a few small trees. They stopped to rest in a patch of tall grass.

"What... What happens if we don't catch them, or we pass by without realizing it?" Sam asked, breathing raggedly.

"Well, there is forested land about another near here, I can hunt if it comes to that. Ideally we will not have to worry about it though."

"I hope we just find them soon, I'm really fuckin' thirsty." Sam said with an enervated smile.

The night was among the darkest Sam had ever seen. The small shaving of moon provided little light, and he could barely see a foot in front of him. He'd already tripped and fallen 4 times, unable to see the small rocks and well ingrained plants. On top of that, he was on the verge of passing out from exhaustion. Ready to accept his fate, he dropped his jacket, and the knife with it.

He fell to his knees and Theodore stopped immediately. He caught Sam by the chest as he went face first toward the ground.

"Hang in there Sam, just a little longer. I can see light in the distance, it's probably their fires." He said, hefting Sam to his feet.

"I... I... Can't..." Sam mumbled between wheezes, wobbling precariously.

With that, his head went limp in Theodore's arms, and he lost consciousness.

"... Drink... Drink..." A distant voice said.

Suddenly, a harsh stinging spread across his cheek as Sam's senses returned. He groaned and tried to move, but found his muscles too stiff. Something wet pressed against his lips, and a hand pulled his mouth open. Cool water poured down his dry throat and he felt instant relief. Sam's eyes fluttered as he opened them to see a stern looking Frenna holding a leather canteen to his lips. He blinked, trying to remember what had happened. Frenna's cheeks flushed and she averted her gaze.

"I-I am sorry for slapping you, but you were having difficulty waking." She said softly.

Sam would have responded, had he not been guzzling down water like it was the last he'd ever drink. Instead, he just nodded to her.

"Once you have finished you can sleep again, we just had to get some fluids in you."

Sam's eyelids were already drooping tiredly. He tried to nod his affirmation again, but he fell asleep before he could.

'Wake up!'

Sam's eyelids flicked open and he looked around, his head swiveling franticly. He sat up quickly and checked his surroundings. It was early morning. He was lying on grass, next to an elaborately gilded carriage. Draped over his chest, was his one armed jacket. 'What happened? I passed out before we made it to the convoy... I'm certain of that.'

'Who was it that woke me up? I don't see anyone...' His questions were forgotten as he heard the clanging of metal and bellowing men. Sam jumped to his feet and was surprised to find his body lacking soreness. He scoured the ground around him for his new sword, and realized it was still bound to his back. Next to him, the carriage shot off. He was startled by the sudden movement and any remaining weariness was chased out of him.

As it pulled away, it's wooden wheels rumbling, a battle was revealed. Sam was frozen in his place, watching with horror as men in dark green armor swept the area atop their mounts. Unarmed servants were beheaded, and there were few trying to stop them. 7 of the red guard stood in opposition of the attackers, all in scattered pieces of armor, as if they'd been forced to abandon the rest.

Sam watched as all the remaining carriages pulled away from the camp, and fled. Sam was forced to take action as one of the riders set their sight on him. He slid his sword from it's sheath and held it out before him in shaking hands. 'Cut the legs.' Sam barely had time to move until the rider was upon him, sweeping a longsword at his neck. Instinctually, he ducked the sword and felt his arms move, his blade biting deep into the winnem's left foreleg. It squawked as it crashed into the ground behind him.

"Arghh..." The rider was thrown from his saddle roughly and he rolled, his armor clattering.

Sam ran at him, his sword held in his right hand. As he swung to cleave through the man, his attack was deflected, and his balance lost. The man was already on his feet and swinging toward Sam by the time he'd regained his footing. Sam dodged as the sword came down, whistling past his left ear. The man's blade lodged itself into the dirt with the heavy swing, and Sam took advantage. He stabbed straight forward with both hands, intending to pierce the man's heart, but the man moved.

He bellowed as Sam's sword cut into his left side, breaking through one of his ribs. The man pulled away and Sam moved in to stab again, but his strike never landed. Half of his forearms fell to the ground, and his sword fell with them. He cried out in pain as the blood began spraying from him. He tried to reach his magic, but the screaming pain was distracting. 'Please connect! Please, PLEASE!' Sam yelled into his mind.

Finally, he could see the beautiful spirals, and his pain became distant. His mind calmed, and seemed to slow as he realized his healing would be too late. The enemy's sword was coming down at his head too quickly. He watched his blood pouring back inside, and his arms snap up from the ground, but it wasn't fast enough. The sound of metal cracking through skull sounded out. He was stunned as the death blow never landed. A spear sent chunks of bone and gore flying as it pierced Sam's would be killer.