Bound in Spirals Ch. 01

Finally, a deep, unfamiliar voice called into his tent. "Sir, I have brought food. Are you decent?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah I'm decent." Sam replied, surprised to find he was disappointed Frenna hadn't been the one to come.

The canvas opened, and in stepped a large, bald man, with sickly looking pale skin. He wore frayed brown and black clothing, resembling Sam's new garb, only it appeared to be of much poorer quality, and far older. He held a wooden tray of food in his left hand, and his other arm hung to the side. Sam's eyes widened at the sight of the stump at the end of the right arm, and the large brown scar engraved on the man's forehead.

"Thanks." Sam said softly as he stood and accepted the tray.

The man bowed and said, "Lady Grettia said to apologize that no food was brought sooner."

"It's alright, I can handle waiting a little while." Sam said with a laugh.

The man stayed bowed. "I beg pardon master, if you have no other need for me."

Sam stared at the man silently for a moment, then realized what he was asking for. "Oh, uh sure go ahead." He said awkwardly.

As the man turned and walked toward the opening Sam noticed something strange around his ankles.

"Wait, what is that thing on your feet?" he asked quickly.

The man turned back to Sam with a puzzled look on his face. He looked down to where Sam was looking. A translucent silver line connected the man's ankles. It pulsed slightly, and Sam could make out thin, discordant strands writhing about inside the line. Where it connected at the ankles, it frayed out wildly and wrapped around, it almost looked like silver veins.

"You can see the bind?" the man questioned.

"Um, yea I mean it's kinda hard to miss. Am I not supposed to see it?"

"Well, in most cases only those who hold magic can see something crafted of magic." He said in his rumbling monotone. "It is very uncommon for a knight to have such ability."

"A knight?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.

The man looked at him oddly, "Yes, master you are wearing the knight's attire."

Sam looked down at his clothes, and was reminded of the only warrior he'd seen since he got to the camp. The woman who was sister to the other Sam had been garbed in very similar hues.

"Ah, yeah I understand." Responded Sam after a few seconds of thought. "Why is it there?"

The man again gave him a weird look and cocked his head. "I am a slave, all slaves are bound."

"Oh, uh... right." Sam said, suddenly distracted by the tray of food in his hands, and his incessantly growling stomach.

Sam sat back down, then grabbed a piece of charred red meat and shoved it into his mouth. It was chewy, but he salivated at the savory flavor. Just as he was about to eat a second piece he noticed the man was still stood there, looking at him expectantly.

"Oh right, forgot about the dismissal thing. You can go." Sam said with a nervous laugh.

The man bowed once again, then left. Sam wasn't too surprised at his discomfort with the fact there were slaves here. He didn't feel right being the one in the commanding position, knowing how he'd felt living with his stepmother all this time, and even then he'd at least had a little leeway to do what he wanted.

He pondered these facts as he devoured the meat. His mind wandered to the revelations of magic while he chewed absentmindedly on a hard piece of bread. 'That woman earlier, Grettia, mentioned me having powerful magic or something. I wonder if that means I can do stuff like making chains of light, or maybe I can get back home somehow...'

Before he knew it, Sam had finished all the bread as well as the meat. He looked down at the tray, disappointed to see all that was left was some sort of strange leafy greens. Tentatively, Sam nibbled at one of the leaves. It had a somewhat bittersweet taste, but was mostly plain tasting. He lifted the tray from his lap and walked to the raised platform. He lay there snacking on the bland vegetables, and trying to form a plan of action.

Eventually, he gave up on being able to devise anything. He hardly knew anything of this new world, and waiting to see how it went seemed the only option. Sam was broken from his reverie when he reached for the next leaf, and came back empty handed. Sitting up, he peered around the tent. The dim light that had been streaming in from the open flap earlier was gone, replaced by darkness. He could hardly see a foot in front of himself. He squinted and tried to recall if there was a lamp in the tent earlier.

Sam set the tray down on the floor and got up. He held his hands out, trying to feel his way to the opening. Tracing the canvas around, he found the slit and pushed out. Outside the visibility was slightly better, and he could pick out the shapes of other canopies. 'Why did I decide to come out here again?' Sam thought. He yawned as he scratched his head. 'I suppose it might be best just to go to bed.' He lifted the flap once again and made his way back to the bed.

Sam laid himself back down, and pulled the coarse blanket up to his chest. When he closed his eyes, he was unsurprised to find the web of power close to his mind. They were almost comforting, easy to get lost in. If it weren't for the trauma Sam had experienced when first seeing the swirling patterns, he would have become completely engrossed in their endlessness. As it was, he was certainly fascinated, but he kept a cautious detachment from them.

As his mind grew weary his boundaries lowered, and his consciousness began to follow one of the coruscating designs. The further he traveled on the never-ending whirls, the deeper into sleep he went...

———

Sam stood next to the bed his father lay in. It's pristine, white sheets draped over his frail body. His father looked at him and smiled weakly.

"Samson, it'll... it'll be alright." He said, his voice catching. Sam wasn't convinced.

"Daddy," Sam said softly, "I-I don't want you to go."

His father's eyes were brimming with tears, but none fell.

"I..." he started, "I don't want to go either, but..." He tried to continue, but his voice cut out, and a single tear streaked down his left cheek.

Sam's own face was already damp from crying, but still more tears fell. That morning, his father's impending death had been made known to him. Up until this point he had been hopeful, but his optimism had been torn from him cruelly. So, there he stood, on the verge of weeping, in front of his father. His father, who was expected to lose out to cancer within the month.

Sam's lip quivered as he began to speak. "I love you dad. I-I'm gonna miss you a lot."

"I love you too Sammy..." He responded despairingly.

He leaned forward and embraced his father. Large, feeble arms enveloped him, and he felt sobs from his father's chest. After what seemed a short time to Sam, the arms pulled away. His father's face was striped with dry tears, and Sam realized it had been longer than he thought.

"Samson, I want to give you something, since your birthday is coming up." His voice had returned to the deep confidence Sam was accustomed to, though it sounded somewhat forced.

His father gestured to the bedside table, on it was a piece of torn, white cloth wrapped around something. Sam slowly made his way to the table, and picked up the folded cloth. As he held it, he realized it was made of the same thin material as all of the linens in the hospital. He opened the cloth delicately, and gasped. Inside lay a ring. The ring Sam's father had worn for as long as he could remember.

Sam turned it in his hands, the intertwining silver and gold catching the light above him. Sam's eyes began to water again as he stared at the simple ring. He clutched it to his chest with both hands.

"I want you to hold onto that for me, will you?" His father asked sincerely.

"O-Of course dad! I'll never lose it, I promise, cross my heart and hope to die." Sam vowed.

Out of the corner of his eye, Sam saw the door handle to the room turning. He hastily wrapped the ring and shoved it into his jean pocket, a good thing too, the person who entered was his stepmother. Her lips curled downward slightly as she looked at Sam, but it quickly vanished as she came around the curtain and saw his father.

"Could you give us some time alone?" His stepmom asked, but her tone indicated there wasn't a choice.

Sam nodded slightly, angered by her abrupt intrusion.

"Sammy, I love ya bud." His father said, ruffling Sam's hair.

"Love you too. See you tomorrow." Sam replied with a sad smile, and he left to wait with his half sisters.

He would remember the rude disruption that had occurred with seething rage, as the last moment he would see his father...

—————

And thus ends Chapter 1. I hope you've enjoyed reading it so far! Any constructive criticism is welcome. Compliments or suggestions are also greatly appreciated. Please feel free to comment on anything, or shoot me an email, I love getting feedback. :)

~ DS