Obligations
by Wiebke Fesch
Same disclaimers and notes as Part 1.
-----CHAPTER 16-----
The Althaia showed no mercy. By the end of the third day, so Ashmael reported, there was no hope Ranat's transformation was complete. His ceaseless fluid loss was forcing the attendants to take drastic measures, snaking tubes down his throat to give him water, all the while having to keep him strapped securely to the bed, lest he attack. No, three days would not be enough.
Having been cured of some of his melancholy by Swift, Tarra had borne the first three days reasonably well. On the second night, with Swift's encouragement, he had invited Ilga to revisit. The soldier had shuddered upon entering the house, hearing a distant scream, but when he emerged downstairs the next morning, he was smiling.
After that one visit to the basement, Swift decided to place some distance between himself and the house. He felt that getting away would help to get him into the proper frame of mind for the duty to which he had committed himself. Useless to dwell on the suffering he had witnessed, to sit worrying or agonizing. Seel and Ashmael gave their updates; that was enough.
The third day came and went. Then the fourth day passed, Swift spending it away from the house, visiting a neighboring town, coming back late. It would not be that night either, he was told. Tarra was inconsolable, as he had been from the third night onward.
Finally on the morning of the fifth day, Swift went to Ashmael. What was his daily schedule going to be? No work for the ruler of Megalithica that day, save for one duty, Ashmale told him. Go to Seel and he will know what to do.
Seel prepared a bath and bid Swift to get in and soak. Fragrant oils swirled in the water as Swift leaned back, knowing that on this day, he was not a ruler, he was a lover, a body, and the bringer of gifts, of wonder.
It was perhaps an hour later that Seel, smiling, entered the bathroom, a small ceramic plate in his hand. Swift could not see what was on it until Seel kneeled down and balanced the plate on the edge of the tub. A crimson orchid and two putiri buds.
"In Saltrock, we swore off stimulants for this occasion, but knowing what I do of putiri..." Seel dipped the orchid into the water and drew it up over Swift's smiling face, so that a trickle ran from his forehead, down his noise, and into his mouth. "I thought you might appreciate it."
"I do." Swift's hand went to a bud. "Could you get me a glass of water?"
He held the bud between thumb and forefinger, remembering how Arahal had used it to prime him for his first night with Seel. Seel returned with the water and Swift popped the bud in his mouth, grinding it in his teeth and downing it with as much water as possible. The taste was bitter and foul, but he knew it would free him up, open channels and energies.
The rest of the day glided on smoothly -- a leisurely walk in the yard, sitting beneath a tree with Seel, a lunch of thin-cut meat and cheese. Afterward Swift went upstairs to Tarra, who was sitting on the bed with Ilga talking quietly. Swift hadn't even known Ilga had come by.
"Oh, forgive me," Ilga apologized as he rose, giving deference to the ruler of Megalithica. "You wish to speak to Tarra; I will go."
Swift gestured for him sit back down. "No, tiahaar Ilga, I'll be but a moment." He addressed himself to Tarra. "Tonight is the night. I am honored that you trusted me with this responsibility."
"I am honored you accepted, tiahaar. Thank you." A light embrace and Swift returned downstairs. It was good to see that Tarra was not alone.
- - - - -
Hours later, Swift stood in his bedroom, wearing a satiny, belted robe Seel had bought for him in town on the trip with Tarra. His hair had been brushed back, fixed up with carved wooden combs. He wore no makeup, no jewelry. "Your eyes sparkle enough," Seel had told him. After offering the second putiri bud, Seel had given him another bath, massaged oils into his skin, anointed him, delivered words of blessing. He was calm, clean, and ready.
"It is time," Seel said softly, opening the door.
Swift's feet fell onto the destined path, down the hallways until he reached the basement door, descending the staircase.
The hallway had been lit with candles, each set in a holder of red glass. At the door to the chamber, the two attendants stood on guard.
"He has been prepared," they announced in unison, immediately peeling away, disappearing up the stairs.
Swift took the key from his pocket and guided it into the lock. Turning the knob, he pressed the door inward, and slipped inside.
TBC...
by Wiebke Fesch
Same disclaimers and notes as Part 1.
-----CHAPTER 16-----
The Althaia showed no mercy. By the end of the third day, so Ashmael reported, there was no hope Ranat's transformation was complete. His ceaseless fluid loss was forcing the attendants to take drastic measures, snaking tubes down his throat to give him water, all the while having to keep him strapped securely to the bed, lest he attack. No, three days would not be enough.
Having been cured of some of his melancholy by Swift, Tarra had borne the first three days reasonably well. On the second night, with Swift's encouragement, he had invited Ilga to revisit. The soldier had shuddered upon entering the house, hearing a distant scream, but when he emerged downstairs the next morning, he was smiling.
After that one visit to the basement, Swift decided to place some distance between himself and the house. He felt that getting away would help to get him into the proper frame of mind for the duty to which he had committed himself. Useless to dwell on the suffering he had witnessed, to sit worrying or agonizing. Seel and Ashmael gave their updates; that was enough.
The third day came and went. Then the fourth day passed, Swift spending it away from the house, visiting a neighboring town, coming back late. It would not be that night either, he was told. Tarra was inconsolable, as he had been from the third night onward.
Finally on the morning of the fifth day, Swift went to Ashmael. What was his daily schedule going to be? No work for the ruler of Megalithica that day, save for one duty, Ashmale told him. Go to Seel and he will know what to do.
Seel prepared a bath and bid Swift to get in and soak. Fragrant oils swirled in the water as Swift leaned back, knowing that on this day, he was not a ruler, he was a lover, a body, and the bringer of gifts, of wonder.
It was perhaps an hour later that Seel, smiling, entered the bathroom, a small ceramic plate in his hand. Swift could not see what was on it until Seel kneeled down and balanced the plate on the edge of the tub. A crimson orchid and two putiri buds.
"In Saltrock, we swore off stimulants for this occasion, but knowing what I do of putiri..." Seel dipped the orchid into the water and drew it up over Swift's smiling face, so that a trickle ran from his forehead, down his noise, and into his mouth. "I thought you might appreciate it."
"I do." Swift's hand went to a bud. "Could you get me a glass of water?"
He held the bud between thumb and forefinger, remembering how Arahal had used it to prime him for his first night with Seel. Seel returned with the water and Swift popped the bud in his mouth, grinding it in his teeth and downing it with as much water as possible. The taste was bitter and foul, but he knew it would free him up, open channels and energies.
The rest of the day glided on smoothly -- a leisurely walk in the yard, sitting beneath a tree with Seel, a lunch of thin-cut meat and cheese. Afterward Swift went upstairs to Tarra, who was sitting on the bed with Ilga talking quietly. Swift hadn't even known Ilga had come by.
"Oh, forgive me," Ilga apologized as he rose, giving deference to the ruler of Megalithica. "You wish to speak to Tarra; I will go."
Swift gestured for him sit back down. "No, tiahaar Ilga, I'll be but a moment." He addressed himself to Tarra. "Tonight is the night. I am honored that you trusted me with this responsibility."
"I am honored you accepted, tiahaar. Thank you." A light embrace and Swift returned downstairs. It was good to see that Tarra was not alone.
- - - - -
Hours later, Swift stood in his bedroom, wearing a satiny, belted robe Seel had bought for him in town on the trip with Tarra. His hair had been brushed back, fixed up with carved wooden combs. He wore no makeup, no jewelry. "Your eyes sparkle enough," Seel had told him. After offering the second putiri bud, Seel had given him another bath, massaged oils into his skin, anointed him, delivered words of blessing. He was calm, clean, and ready.
"It is time," Seel said softly, opening the door.
Swift's feet fell onto the destined path, down the hallways until he reached the basement door, descending the staircase.
The hallway had been lit with candles, each set in a holder of red glass. At the door to the chamber, the two attendants stood on guard.
"He has been prepared," they announced in unison, immediately peeling away, disappearing up the stairs.
Swift took the key from his pocket and guided it into the lock. Turning the knob, he pressed the door inward, and slipped inside.
TBC...
