Bound in Spirals Ch. 07

They finished loading up their supplies, and Sam quickly went back inside to grab one last thing. His sword was where he'd left it the night before, leaning against the brick wall. He'd been hesitant to touch it since then, not trusting himself to keep it sheathed. Even now, as he lifted the lightweight blade, he felt an itch to pull it out and practice. The urge so abnormally fierce that he feared it. His fingers twitched slightly as he bound it across his back.

'What is this feeling?' Sam wondered. 'Why am I so urgent to use this sword? Is it because I'm finally learning how to use it?' He didn't have an answer to the question, but he knew that it had felt good in his hand. Better than it had before. He mounted Letta, and they set off.

———

Dettella strode toward the new carriage, feeling refreshed after a good night of rest and a warm breakfast. The new cronnit dress she wore was rough against her skin, but the cronnit fabric was much sturdier than silk. It felt more appropriate for travel to her and she welcomed the humble nature of it. She gave an elegant wave in both farewell and thanks to the, now much wealthier, innkeeper. The plump woman gave several hasty, unpracticed bows.

Turning back to the cart, she nodded to Darrel and the two guardsmen who had found their way to the village together in the night. Yalene held open the unpainted wooden door for her to enter with an urgent smile, as if she were afraid something would happen to Dettella in the few steps it took to reach it.

She ducked into the coach, giving a small smile of gratitude to Yalene. Inside, the benches were outfitted with heavily padded beige cushions, and the light colored wood was polished to the point of gleaming. The ceiling was decorated with ornately carved patterns, imitating those of a bind mage's forms, almost to perfection.

Dettella sat down, looking about the interior in wonder. "This is the most finely crafted carriage I have ever seen." She muttered, running her fingers over the floral design on the cushions. Shaking herself from her reverie, she straightened the stiff, violet dress over her knees. "Yalene, who made this? I must know, for I will have to recommend them."

"Ah, yes milady, this was made by the master craftsman here. I believe his name was Rikaerdd Fosder. It had been planned for the Lady governing this land, but he was happy to have you receive it instead." She answered.

"One man did all this himself?" Dettella asked, glancing about the intricate work.

"Well, he designed it himself and did all of the woodwork, but the glass windows and something in the wheels he called 'suspension' along with the metalwork were made by other hands. Supposedly, he is the most skilled sever mage in the village and is renowned for his handiwork."

"My word... I assume that he was paid well for this?"

"Ah, well, about that... He refused any offers of compensation we gave, saying that he was glad that his work would go to someone who would appreciate it. Apparently talk of your kindness reaches even this far from the capital, milady." Yalene said with a joyous smile.

"Well, if we return this way I will have to meet this man and thank him for his generosity personally." Dettella said as the winnem gave a squawk outside and the carriage began rolling. "These glass windows, will they not break from the jouncing?"

"Master Rikaerdd said that they would not. Something about this 'suspension' device that he mentioned would prevent their breaking from the bumps. I believe it must be an invention from wherever he originated." Yalene answered.

"Did he mention that he was from another land?"

"Ah, no he just had an unfamiliar accent, so I made an assumption. It was very crisp and overly enunciated, very strange." Yalene said, her brow furrowing in hard thought, something her mind wasn't used to.

"Well then I shall have to ask him about it when I meet him eventually." Dettella said, still marveling at the windows. "Do these open somehow?"

"Oh, yes, the craftsman showed me how. See this latch right here? You just push it up and then the frame opens inward." Yalene said, demonstrating how to open the window.

'Rather similar to a miniature door.' Dettella thought, knowing right then that she'd have to inspect the carriage for more of these marvelous designs. 'This man really is quite talented.' Then, she looked away from the window, where the last of the buildings of the village were disappearing behind them.

Touching the ceiling with one hand, she summoned forth her magic. The argent, curling patterns blooming in her mind. She let some of the power pour out from her fingertips, flowing into the carved patterns like water in a stream. In a few seconds, the ceiling was covered with a web of sparkling silver, and she let out a small gasp. The light reflected off the polished wood in such a way to make it look as though it had been bathed in a liquid moon.

Yalene looked around in utter astonishment. "Milady! What is this?" Her eyes were wide, looking at the beautiful color that had washed over the inside of the carriage.

"I just set a bind in the patterns on the ceiling..." Dettella muttered.

"You did? But then why can I see the glow so easily? How much power must you have used to create such a light?" Yalene wondered.

"Hardly any at all. I was just curious to see what it would look like. What do you see?" Dettella said, her voice still soft.

"It's like... It looks like the reflection of the moon off a lake..." Yalene said, and Dettella was amazed by the accuracy of her words.

"To me, it looks like I gave the craftsman too little credit..." She said.

———

They stopped again as the sun began to descend below the western horizon. The terrain had become covered with copious amounts of the enormous redwood-like trees at a quickly increasing rate, and Sam was certain that they would find the first village by the next day.

Letta had followed the stream that flowed behind the small house until it reached a large, forked river. They had made camp a short walk from the river in a small meadow that resided in a clearing of the trees, just large enough for Letta to curl up, and the others to lay against her side.

After stopping, Sam had gone out a distance away and began his practice with the sword. Samson continued to coach him as he trained, teaching him more and more complex movements which Sam soaked up with alacrity. He was eventually forced to stop several hours later, as the night darkened to the point that he couldn't see his own hands.

'Damn...' He thought as he begrudgingly sheathed the sword on his back, wishing he had more time.

'It's dangerous to move around carelessly in the dark like this,' Samson cautioned, feeling Sam's reluctance, 'You could...'

His words were cut off as Sam was sent sprawling by a heavy impact in his side. He was groaning and straining to see what had hit him, when he felt powerful jaws crunch down on his right leg. Sam's scream was muffled by his gritted teeth. He felt his knee break under the immense pressure of the creature's mouth, but it didn't tear his leg off. It began dragging him over the rough forest floor, at a rapid pace. His mind dulled as the back of his head was slammed against an exposed rock.

'...Sam...!' He heard Samson calling for him, but he couldn't make out his words. '...am...orm...!' Distantly, he felt Samson try to take over, but he resisted, not knowing why he did. 'Sam...! Magi...! Use yo...gic!'

He felt his left arm break as it was caught in something, but he barely even felt the pain. The ground's change from leafy forest floor to jagged stone went nearly as unnoticed. Sharp rocks bit into his back, tearing his shirt and leaving deep lacerations. Sam's mind cleared somewhat as he felt the movement stop. The sudden shock of the pain reaching his brain was enough to clear it completely.

His agonized scream echoed into the cave, and a few whimpering cries of alarm followed it. 'Sam! Use your magic you blighted fool! Run! You need to run!'

Sam's acknowledgment came in the form of the piercing light of his power as it seemed to burst from his skin. It snapped his broken bones into place with painful speed, and stitched his wounds like they'd never happened. In his panic, Sam didn't get to see who his attacker was as he leapt to his feet and sprinted for the opening to the cave. Gray stone clacked and crunched underneath his boots as he ran, his path lit by the writhing spirals that flitted across his bare arms and face.

'DUCK!!' Samson screamed into his head, and Sam complied without question. The large, furry creature's claws scraped across the ground as it landed in front of him.

Sam pulled his sword and moved without hesitation, dodging as the obscured figure slashed at him with a razor tipped paw. His sword struck down, rending deep into the creature's muscled foreleg. It reeled back, yelping in pain as Sam moved forward again, preparing to attack again.

His mind was so focused on his front, that he didn't move quickly enough at Samson's next warning. 'Behind you!'

His body moved, but not enough to avoid the brutal strike to his head. Stumbling to his knees, Sam's sword clattered from his hand and out of reach. Before he could retaliate, he found himself pinned to the ground by the heavy beast, unable to move. His vision began to fade, and he felt his mind drift into the sea of infinite patterns as he lost consciousness...

He awoke a short time later, finding his head pounding and his limbs bound by rope. He squinted against the bright lamplight. The magic welled up in him and he felt his head stop it's painful thumping. Blinking, he glanced around at his captors with a gaze surprisingly devoid of fear. Seven people surrounded him in a half circle, three women and four children.

The women glared at him with unbridled contempt, while most of the children just looked at him with wide, curious eyes. One girl, who appeared to be slightly older than the others seemed to be trying to mimic the look the women gave him. 'They're all so short.' He thought, looking down at them. 'They can't be more than five feet tall at most.'

Then, he saw the pointed ears that peeked from the assortment of brightly colored hair. "Ah, that explains it." He said aloud, nodding his head. "I guess elves aren't very fond of humans, eh? I shouldn't be surprised, considering how much humans seem to hate themselves. Why'd you decide to kidnap me like that?"

The adults sneered at him and turned to each other. The girl glanced at them and immediately gave an almost perfect imitation of their sneer, the only problem was that she didn't quite seem to understand what they were angry about.

"What do we do with him? If we just kill him now that argwolf will die with him." One of the women said, her platinum blonde hair seeming to shake with her hatred. It took him a moment to realize they weren't speaking English, so he quickly concealed the widening of his eyes.

"Perhaps we should bring him back to the empress, she would surely give us great rewards for bringing this hostile barbarian. They will certainly be able to torture out what the savages plan to do." Replied the one to the right, her hair the same shade as the other.

'Old enough to understand what those mean...' Sam quickly realized that his hope for survival lay with the three smaller children, noting how they seemed to stiffen at the mention of killing and torture. Even the older one seemed to pale slightly, though it was hard to tell with how pale their skin already was.

"Hey, do you speak Engl- er human?" He asked, turning his eyes to the children. When they just looked at him with the same curiosity, now mixed with confusion, he knew that he'd have to give up his hope to keep his knowledge of their language secret. He sighed, "I just want help, that's all I came here for."

All seven elves' eyes widened, in surprise, alarm, and happiness. The three children smiled, then they started laughing joyfully. "You can talk to us? Yes, Yes we want to help you!" All three started immediately clamoring for a turn to talk to him. "You're the tallest person ever!" "Momma won't really kill you, right momma?" "Yes, that is bad!"

The oldest girl seemed conflicted as to whether to join the commotion, or to be angry at him with the adults. Finally she said, "But you hurt Belleby! You attacked him!" She looked to be on the verge of tears.

Sam deduced that 'Belleby' was the creature who had hauled him all the way to the cave. "Ah, well I thought I was going to be killed by him, so I was just defending myself. After all, he was the one who attacked me first. But if you want me to, I can fix him right now. Since it's only a cut, I can mend it."

As if on cue, the hairy creature lumbered into the firelight. It was the most bizarre animal Sam had ever seen, and considering what he'd come across since arriving in this land, it had to be very strange indeed. It's face was broad and it's mouth was wide, a few inch long teeth peeking from below the upper lip. Bright orange eyes looked around with a submissive cast, it's head lowered. The body that the head was connected to was the strangest part.

Six muscular legs held it aloft, and it's hand-like paws clacked softly on the ground, the long claws extending several inches from each finger. It had a small nub of a tail which twitched nervously as it glanced at the elves around him, as if asking for permission. The long, red-green fur seemed to relax as the girl nodded tentatively.

Belleby looked at Sam with expectant eyes, and at that moment he felt a little bad for injuring him. He'd just been doing what they told him to. Even though he wasn't a familiar, Belleby was intelligent. Sam could see it in those black, ringed eyes in the same way he could see it in Letta's.

"Um, alright, don't bite me or anything. Okay?" Sam said reaching out his hands which were starting to chafe against their bindings.

His magic instantly lit the cave with a light even brighter than that of the lamp, and he felt the soreness in his wrists fade. He placed his hands on Belleby's downcast head, and pushed his magic into him. The bright, gold and silver swirls tracked across his body, finding the deep wound which still poured blood. Red streams flew into the wound from across the cave, and it clasped shut. When it was done, Belleby began to pull away, but Sam saw an opportunity in that moment.

He quickly set a binding from his hand to the creature's head, keeping it there. 'Samson! Where are you?' He called into his mind, receiving no response. 'Damn, did he abandon me again? No, he was there earlier... Fuck, no time. I'll just have to do it myself.' Pulling forth an immense amount of magic, Sam began weaving the bind. He hoped he'd remembered the feeling of the bind correctly, otherwise this could go very wrong.

A web of power spread across the animal, pulsating rapidly. Sam found it hard to concentrate as a torrent of emotions and garbled thoughts were thrust into his mind, but still he pushed on. Fear, of punishment, death, and abandonment all at once seemed to be on the forefront of Belleby's thoughts.

'Damn this is harder than I thought it would be.' His jaw set in concentration, Sam let out the last vestige of the necessary power. The net of patterns began to coalesce toward Belleby's head, and it set itself into his fur, leaving a whorl of lighter color.

He gasped, and his body sagged to his knees. It worked. Sam smiled as he released the bindings of Belleby's head, looking up at the row of astonished faces. Apparently, they'd been too stunned to realize what he'd been doing. The adults expressions quickly turned to rage, while the youngest children stared on in wonder.

"You bastard! I'll flay you right here!" Said the only adult who hadn't spoken yet, her orange hair seeming to rise up.

Sam just laughed. He didn't know how he could laugh at a time like this, but he found it humorous despite that feeling. 'Am I becoming an adrenaline junky or something?' He wondered.

"What did you do to Belleby?" The oldest girl asked, all pretense of anger had left her face to be replaced by fear. "Did you hurt him? What was that web for?"

Sam gave his best amiable grin, which was hard as he wasn't used to smiling so much. "Oh, he'll be fine. As long as I'm not hurt, that is. All I did was give myself an insurance policy of sorts."

Inside, he wondered, 'What the hell is wrong with me...? How am I enjoying this?'

"You are a filthy, scheming wretch! You blighted winnem fucker, undo that magic right now or I'll kill you!" The blonde haired elf on his left shouted.

Sam laughed again. "I wouldn't recommend that, you'll just be killing Belleby along with me."

"Please! What did you do to Belleby?!" The oldest girl pleaded, her sky-blue hair seeming to quiver.

Sam turned to her,"Oh, right. He's my new familiar."

—————

Thus ends Chapter 7. I really liked this chapter for some reason, not sure why. Maybe it's because 7 is my favorite number. I hope you've enjoyed reading it so far! Any constructive criticism is welcome. Compliments or suggestions are also greatly appreciated. If you have any questions, related to the story or not, I'm happy to answer. What I'm getting at is that I really like to talk to people because I'm a sad, lonely man. P.S. I post progress updates in my bio incase anyone is curious about where I'm at.

~ DS