Bound in Spirals Ch. 15

'Yes, yes, I understand it. Very well, I suppose I will just have to live with this much.'

'Alright, I'll be back in a bit.' Sam said, waving to the argwolf as he stepped into the tower.

Immediately he realized he had an issue. 'I don't know what floor I'm supposed to go to...' He looked backward for a second, wondering if perhaps he should go back and ask someone. 'Ah, I'll figure it out. I'm sure somebody will be able to point it out to me.'

With that thought, he hurried inside. Oddly, he didn't see a single servant on his way up. Fortunately, he ran into Giela on the stairs otherwise he might have ended up ascending all the way to the top without realizing.

"Lord Samson? Why are you going up?" She asked, giving him a puzzled look.

"Er... I forgot which floor I'm supposed to be on. I was hoping to find someone on the way up, but I didn't see anyone."

"You are staying on the floor below this one." She said. "As for the lack of personnel, the queen gave most of her servants a reprieve for the day after last nights events."

"Oh, so I'm on floor... 20? I'll make sure to remember that this time." He said, frowning at the number 21 above the arched doorway where Giela stood.

"Ah, no that is mean to be a 15, but someone seems to have flipped it over." She replied, looking frustratedly up at the gilded sign.

"Oh," Sam reached up and twisted the sign back upright. "There we go."

She pursed her lips at him. "I spent half an hour trying to fix that." She said, brandishing the long metal rod in her hand.

"Why didn't you just use a stool?" He asked.

"I tried." She said, gesturing to the stool just to her left. "I still couldn't reach."

"Oh..." He replied awkwardly. "Well, why didn't you just ask Darrel?"

"I would have, but he's been gone since yesterday! Nobody knows where he is. Not that anyone has really looked..." She answered with exasperation.

"I see... That sucks, I was hoping to get some training in with him." He looked down at his feet, scratching his head thoughtfully. His head whipped back upward, his eyes suddenly intent. "Ah! Do you know where I could get some cooking supplies?"

"Hm? The stocks should have been refilled in the kitchen on your floor. Why do you ask?"

"Okay, good. I was planning to make lunch for Dettella." Seeing the excited flicker in her eyes, Sam hurried on. "Please don't say anything to her about it! I think it might be a nice surprise."

"My lips are shut! I won't say a thing!" She paused, looking him up and down. "You are planning to clean up first, right?"

His eyes flicked downward. "Of course! Contrary to what you might think, I'm not a complete idiot."

"I was just making certain." She said, raising her hands placatingly.

"Alright, well I better go get ready." He said, already turning back down the stairs.

"Good luck!" She called after him.

As Sam passed through the doorway into the floor he was apparently staying on, it felt like he was having deja vu. The familiar scent of mint and lavender brought back glimpses. Seeing the gilded leaf patterns inlaid into the wall, the lavish furniture of a vivid dark green, the grand ivory throne set into the center at the end of the grand main hall... He shook his head. He could admire the beauty of the rich decorations later, he needed to get himself cleaned up.

He walked along the main hall, peeking down the halls that ran perpendicular to it. He spent almost ten minutes searching for the bathroom he'd used the day before. He eventually found it through a second door in a large bedroom he assumed was his, based on his belongings being inside it. He picked his sword up from the bed and caressed it for a moment before shaking his head to clear it.

He set it down and retrieved his cleaned set of clothes and went into the bathroom. The presence of a mirror surprised him, but not as much as his appearance in it. His bright blue eyes were keen and alert, but the new lines surrounding them made him look weary. His facial features were also sharper than he remembered, the little fat he'd had before almost entirely gone.

Honestly, it was hard to decide whether he thought he looked better or worse. His muscles had developed some, but he had a worn look in his icy gaze that he could only ascribe to age. It immediately made him feel like he'd fallen back into his previous pattern of lying to himself after something bad happened. The cheery excitement of the day fell away like an untied cloak, and he was left with what was beneath.

'I'm fine right now, but what'll happen when I get another major injury and I have to use an immense amount of magic... Will I have hallucinations again? Some more memory loss? Perhaps it will just exacerbate my trauma again?' He looked away from the mirror, unable to hold his own stare any longer. 'I wish I could just go back to the feeling of anxiety and occasional hyperventilation.'

He stripped himself, noting absently that he'd been too distracted to realize he hadn't been wearing underwear all day. He submerged himself in the clean, cold water of the polished basin. His body went through the automatic motions, scouring himself free of any grime he'd picked up since yesterday. He felt like this would be the time to have a hallucination, it seemed like he was more susceptible to them when he was in a bleak mood, but nothing happened.

'Is that a good sign?' He asked himself as he rose out of the tub, grabbing a spare towel from a hanging rack. He dried himself off quickly and stepped back into his new room. He put on his shirt and his only remaining possession from his world, his familiar boxer-briefs. Letting himself slump back onto the plush bed, he sunk into the silky green material.

For close to an hour he just laid there, trying to come up with some semblance of a solution. Eventually, his mind wandered to Samson. He frowned, Samson had yet to return since he'd sent him away. He could have sworn he'd heard his voice just before he'd blacked out at the end of last night's fight. 'Samson? You there?' No response.

'Strange... Should I be worried?' He wondered. Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself up from the bed. He pulled on his pants, socks, and boots, thinking about whether he should tell Dettella about Samson as well. '...No. I will be completely honest with her. No more secrets.' He decided, picking up his sword. He felt a growing resolve settle into his chest as he walked from the room.

——Dettella——

By the time Dettella had reached the queen's tower she'd repeated her exit from the arena over and over in her head, feeling like an imbecile. 'There were so many better ways to handle that! Blight, he must think I'm a pervert! What else could he think waking up with me laying against his chest?!' She paused, waiting for the castle gates to open for her. 'No, no. I'm just overreacting. He seemed perfectly fine. He wanted to talk to me more, so it can't be that bad.'

"Hello Letta," She said, passing the resting argwolf as she headed toward the tower. She stopped in her tracks. "Wait..."

The argwolf raised an eyebrow, half question, half amusement. Dettella asked, "Is he already here?" Letta nodded.

'Oh blight! What if we meet before lunch by accident?!' The princess stood frozen with indecision, wringing her hands anxiously. Letta nudged her toward the tower with her snout, huffing out in what sounded like a laugh. Dettella looked back at the argwolf in confusion. Letta just shook her massive head, looking at her like she was being foolish.

'I am being foolish.' She thought, taking a deep breath. She calmed herself, then strode up to the tower with renewed confidence.

—

Dettella shifted her feet nervously. She straightened her dress once again, feeling the white floral patterns that had been embroidered into the pale honey dress. Giela had said that this 'tea dress' style was fairly modest by current standards, but she still felt very exposed in it. The lace that covered her upper chest wouldn't really change the fact that she still felt scandalous.

She adjusted the carousel braid that hung over her left shoulder, internally cursing herself for being so anxious. 'It's just Sam, he'll think I'm beautiful regardless, won't he...?' She peeked into the main hall of the 14th floor, still unable to cross the threshold.

"Er... Where would you like me to be?" Giela asked, turning to her.

"A-Ah, you can go back if you'd like." The princess said, not even glancing at her. Her gaze was focused intensely into the main hall, as if by staring hard enough at the throne on the far side she'd be able to absorb some more queenly steadiness.

"I'll go have a new dress prepared for tomorrow then."

"Sure, go ahead..." Dettella replied, waving distractedly to her. She took another tense breath and shook her head, unable to settle her nerves. 'Blight, blight, blight! I'll just go. Just go in. It'll be fine. Just be yourself, it's just lunch. We'll just talk of simple things, not a problem. Perhaps we'll talk about his world though, that would be great. We could discuss that for days I'm sure. Shouldn't I think of a topic myself though? No, no. It will be fine, I can just let it happen.'

Hesitantly, she took a step inside. 'See? That wasn't so hard. Now I'll just keep going until I find him...' She didn't move.

She let out a sigh that was a mixture of exasperation and nerves, then took in a deep breath. Letting it out slowly, she took another step. Then another and another, and with each step she let go of her stress. 'This is it,' She thought. 'I'll finally have my curiosity quelled...'

——Darrel——

Darrel let the flask of Crestellan whiskey fall from his hand, splashing its paltry remains over the wood floor. He'd known drinking wouldn't help, it never had in the past, but he'd had to try. Light streamed through the wood slats in the window, still no summons from the queen. Apparently, all of his drinking had been for nothing regardless.

He hunched over the inn's uncomfortable bed, holding his head in his hands. He looked at his booted feet, trying not to let his family come to the forefront of his thoughts. That was counter productive.

Women in red, caged masks. Heads hanging from the ceiling, blood pooling beneath. 'We don't enjoy being denied' the sign, piercing his wife's stomach. Three men, throats slit, draped over the three smaller bodies, members still plunged between legs. Running, running, unable to flee his own mind.

Darrel dragged his fingers across his scalp, feeling skin and hair scraping away. No tears fell from his eyes. He wished they would, he begged his body to let him weep again, but still his eyes remained dry. As quickly as they'd come, he let his emotions fall away.

Knock knock knock. He didn't respond, unable to find the motivation to open his mouth. Knock Knock Knock... Knock knock knock!

Whoever it was, they sure were persistent. Darrel summoned the amalgamation of different colors Rentell had used to fill his empty well, and his skin reknit itself. He stood slowly, walking steadily to the door and opened it just as the visitor began to knock again. He didn't speak, just looked down at the young elf.

"Sir... for message you?" The boy said, clearly not fluent in the northern human tongue. "Sir Darl Va... Viner..."

Darrel didn't wait for him to finish butchering his name, taking the sealed letter and shutting the door. He returned to the bed and turned the letter over in his hands. The seal of the queen was pressed into a circle of light blue wax. He remained silent, examining that seal for a long time. Finally, he peeled it open and slowly unfolded the white parchment inside.

Sir Darrel Vanetiell,

Since yesterday I have had time to reconsider the previous arrangement. I would like to speak with you today. Please meet me at the top of the tower around noon.

Elleifren

Darrel folded the letter and placed it back in the envelope. He left three silvers on the bed and threw open the large window. He let himself drop to the street below and began his walk back to the tower.

—————

Thus ends Chapter 15.

IMPORTANT!

I want to preface this by saying that I am not stopping writing the story, just to prevent any possible misunderstandings.

Recently several people have pointed out the inconsistent pace of the story, along with complaints about the frequency/direction of Sam's insanity. I had been having my own second thoughts on my own before these complaints, but they sort of confirmed it for me. There have been many times that I have wished I could go back and adjust things here and there, but I felt like I couldn't due to the nature of uploading stories to the Literotica website. Anyway, what I have decided is that I am going to go back and fix some of the issues I am dissatisfied with. These edits will likely end up being very important to the direction the story is going.

The majority of the issues lie in chapters 11-13, and a little of 10. I let Sam's difficulties with madness run a little off the rails, and I ended up leaving the party in the forest for a bit too long. I've already begun adjusting, but it will take me a decent amount of time to finish cutting and editing them. My current estimate is about a month to a month and a half to complete the editing with the help of Nick.

What this means is that Chapter 16 won't be out for my usual 3-week schedule. I am still writing a little bit of it as I go back, but it won't be finished until some time after I've gone and edited the previous chapters.

Additionally, I won't be posting the new chapters anymore. Please read my bio if you want more information as to my reasons why. I will lose a large amount of readers from this, but I hope those of you that are genuinely interested will stick with me through the delays. To those of you that will stop reading at chapter 15, I'm sorry to give you an incomplete story, but thank you for reading this far.

P.S. Sorry for the slight cliffhanger.

—DS