A Good Servant Chapter 18
A Good Servant – Ch. 18
By Laura S. Fox
Copyright © 2018 Laura S. Fox
All Rights Reserved
Gay Erotica
Intended for Mature Audiences Only
This story contains graphic depictions of sexual intercourse, strong language and it is not meant for readers who are less than 18 years of age.
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Chapter 18
There was an alien feeling, nesting in his chest, as his eyes remained glued to the enormous statue in the candle-lit room. Unconsciously, he raised his hands to his face, mapping his own features, as he was discovering them for the first time. Everyone around him was silent, watching him, even Edgar.
"How could this even be?" he mumbled. "I thought she wasn't real."
Tora smiled.
"She is."
"Wait ... is she still alive?" Cory asked, barely managing to let out the words.
"She is eternal," Tora answered.
"Can I see her?" the blond servant demanded, a mix of anxiety and confusion in his blue eyes.
"You are looking at her, and you are wondering if you can see her?" Tora squinted her watery eyes, as she stared at him.
"That's ... just a statue. An inanimate object," he added, remembering a few things from what he learned during his short stay in Aeria.
"Is this what you really think? Is it the first time you see her?" Tora questioned him.
Silence was replaced with discontent murmurs.
"I ... I think I've seen her before ... but that cannot be," Cory added.
"Non-believer!" Adrienne hissed and soon her sharp blade was against his neck.
Tora raised one hand and Adrienne dropped her hand. Her old face was like carved in stone, all traces of warmth gone. The murmurs in the room were turning into protests.
Cory could taste danger. To his surprise, Edgar came to the rescue.
"You people seem to be judging Cory. But you forget that he was raised by the Trainers. He doesn't know this woman you speak of so highly. Until we arrived here, we thought her to be nothing but a myth."
Adrienne turned towards the scientist with anger written all over her face. There was now shouting from all sides and Edgar took a step back.
"Silence!" Tora ordered and the women fell quiet again. "It is true that they come from a place without pity. They need to be educated."
"Love cannot be taught!" someone from the crowd yelled.
Tora turned towards the pews.
"Is that what she taught us? She trusts him, or she would not have put him into this world. She trusts us, or she would not have guided him to us. Since when are we lacking faith?"
There were murmurs again, but this time in agreement.
"Come, children," Tora gestured for Cory and Edgar to follow her. "There are many things you need to learn."
***
Ayn felt the place on the bed next to him with one hand, only to find it empty and cold. He blinked a few times. Where could that lover of his be this early in the morning? Just when he hoped they could linger in bed for some action before sunrise. He stumbled in the semi-dark until he found his clothes and went outside. Now he vaguely remembered that Xav had said something about going outside for a bit of fresh air. But that must have happened hours ago.
An unpleasant thought came to him, unbound, but he chased it away. Now it was not the right moment to feel doubtful. They had, like, exchanged vows, or something. Said `I love you' and all that. And it hadn't been a joke. It was stupid to think Xav just decided to take a hike.
Haven was silent still at this hour, but the first rays of sun were starting to rise above the dunes in the distance. Everything around came into focus in sharp colors, bright orange and metallic blue. Ayn stared around, looking for his lover with his eyes.
He heard footsteps behind him and turned quickly. But his hopes were dashed right away, as he saw who was coming. Marcus looked pretty pissed.
"What's with you, up and about, at this hour? Is your honey losing his appeal already?" Marcus spoke first, but he was looking around, too, like he was also looking for something.
"Cut the crap, Marcus," Ayn shrugged. "Who pissed in your morning coffee?"
"The fucker who took my van," Marcus replied, the frown on his face deepened. "When I find the moron who dared pulling this kind of prank on me, I'll bust his balls, rip them from his body, and shove them up his ass."
Ayn frowned.
"Your van is gone?"
"Yeah, what do I keep saying? Give His Majesty a break. Ever since you've buried yourself balls deep into that tight ass, you started to sound like a moron, Ayn. Thinking too much with your dick?" Marcus joked, but only half-heartedly.
"Xav is actually gone, too," Ayn replied, ignoring his friend's banter.
"Don't tell me," Marcus huffed. "You told him it's okay to take my van out for some pleasure walk. Damn, Ayn, how about you be more generous with your own toys, not mine? I get nothing out of this. So he's out there, burning my fuel, and I won't even get to tap that ass."
Ayn threw his friend a nasty look. Marcus put his hands up, in defeat.
"Don't mind me. I'm just joking. His Majesty is not my type at all. You can have him. But what the hell is he doing riding my van at this hour? Did he have an errand to run or something?"
"I have no idea, and I don't know if he's riding your van or not," Ayn spoke. "Just that it can't be that kind of freakish coincidence for him to disappear at the same time with your van."
"What did you do?" Marcus joked again. "To make him run away, I mean. Hell, I'm not even mad anymore. There's so little going on around here. I need to find all the juicy gossip behind this. C'mon, Ayn, what did you do to make him so mad that he took a hike? Or did you scare him with your big cock?"
"Shut up, asshole," Ayn mumbled. "He loves my big cock. And he's not that easy to scare."
"Well, whatever happened, the point is that he has my van, and letting your lovebirds' quarrel aside, I need it today."
"We need to find him first," Ayn said with determination. "So, do we take the buggy now?"
"What other choice do we have? At least, he cannot go too far. The van needed some refueling. Let's just chase the tracks. The winds haven't been too heavy last night."
Ayn nodded. What could have made Xav run away? He could pretend all he wanted that he was sure of himself, or else Marcus was going to laugh his ass off, but the truth was he felt restless. Something was amiss, and he needed to know what. Have Xav explain it to him. It could not be that bad. It just couldn't.
"Come on, lover boy," Marcus's voice startled him. "Let's just get that partner of yours back safe and sound. And my van."
"Maybe he's just around here somewhere," Ayn said, but even he could tell his voice lacked conviction. "But I'm helping you get your van back either way."
"Then move your ass, and let's have some extra fuel staked in the back of the buggy. We'll need it to bring Melissa back home safe, too."
"Why on earth would you call that ugly thing a woman's name?" Ayn mumbled, just to get his mind off what could have gone wrong between him and Xav. Just when things were so great between them.
"Because it is a woman's name," Marcus winked at him.
"And what could a woman have in common with that ugly thing you call a van?"
"Everything. This Melissa chick was just as ugly. But she could take a riding, just like my van."
"You're one sick bastard, man," Ayn shook his head.
"Hey, there's no better thing than the love of an ugly woman. That kind of woman will take everything from you. She won't fuss, because she knows how she looks. And she'll fucking love you. But what do you know, pretty boy? Only cute chicks dig you. And cute men, too, lately."
Ayn laughed. It was damn good to have someone like Marcus on his side of the fence. He could count on the guy. In bad times and in good times.
"Well, now I need to find my cute man and bring him back."
"Ah, so you're not letting him go?" Marcus elbowed him playfully.
"Are you kidding me? That kind of man? He won't get away from me, if he goes all around the world. I told him he's mine."
"Oh," Marcus snickered. "Don't tell me you want me to be the flower girl at your wedding. I'd rather be the one in charge of the booze."
"I won't trust you with that. You'll just drink everything and leave everyone else thirsty, you prick."
"Just look at him," Marcus slapped his back hard, but friendly. "Not denying, huh? You have it that bad for His Majesty, then?"
"Are you blind or something? Did you look at that guy?"
"Not too much, I don't want my ass kicked for staring," Marcus replied.
Ayn was filling two canisters, while listening to Marcus's bad jokes.
"Good answer," he said and stood up. "So are we like ready to go?"
"Yeah, I already saw the tracks," Marcus climbed behind the wheel, and Ayn took the seat next to him right away. "Don't worry, buddy. Your beloved will be back with us in no time. But it's up to you to make him stay, you know?"
"Yeah, I know. Now step on it, already."
"Sure thing, man, sure thing."
***
The van began to cough. Xavier frowned as he wiped the fuel counter with one sleeve. Ah, damn, how could he be so hasty that he forgot the damn contraption still needed fuel to work? Another look at the glinting band around his wrist was the only answer he needed. Or knew.
The sensor was still searching. That meant that the Trainers back in Drena had finally decided that Xavier needed some help getting back home. What a strange thing to call the white city his home. That was not it. The soft tendrils of longing were not stretching between him and that place, but between him and a small cottage made from corrugated metal, where inside was almost nothing save for a bed and a man he knew so well now.
He hoped Ayn was not going to hate him much. But leaving was the only way to show he cared. Had he been soft, pleading, waiting for Ayn to tell him to stay, regardless of the relentless sensors trying to locate the first ruler of Drena, that would have meant only one thing; that he was just an egotistical bastard who could care less that Ayn's home was going to be blasted to smithereens, just so he could prolong his stay in his lover's arms.
This way was the only way. The dessert stretching in front of him. He knew what waited for him out there. The sun was mocking him, so cruel and merciless up in the sky. It would have better if it had rained. He would have had a way to ...
He wiped his face in an annoyed gesture. That damn thing was going to pulse and pulse as long as he was alive. Maybe even beyond. When that moment came, he had to be as far away as possible from Ayn's home. If the Trainers were to find his body lost somewhere in the vast dessert, they would have no way to guess the traces in the sand, growing thinner and thinner by the hour.
He doubted he was far enough even after driving for several hours. Miles and miles were now between him and Haven, a place where, if he was to be completely honest to himself, he had been happy. The only time in his entire life when he had been truly happy.
Drena was such a distant memory right now. The glitter, the gold, the power. All held nothing but emptiness. Only the people were important. Lucas, his best friend, by whom he had done so wrong. Cory, his servant, caring enough to let Ayn go, despite knowing all too well that his life was going to be forfeited for it. Could he remember anyone else? Not really.
The Trainers were all the same. They wanted Xavier to be the best. And he had been, and for the most part of his life, he had thought that was what he wanted and needed. Until a savage slave had been on offer, and Xavier had taken him home, put him in a cage and ... fallen in love with him.
For all that was worth, he was grateful. Just imagining his life as an empty line of lavish parties and obligations let him know he had chosen well, the moment he had decided to let Ayn take him away. He was taking something with him now, for that reason only. It was what Ayn had given him, no strings attached.
And now he had to do the right thing, and leave Ayn behind, because he could never forgive himself if he was to harm the man he loved.
The van coughed again and a foreboding mechanical sigh followed. Well, he was going to walk from this point forward. For more than one hour, the van had just struggled, and he had driven at only a fraction of the speed the car should have managed. More of that, and walking would have been faster.
He jumped out of the vehicle, and slammed shut the door. The poor thing had served him to the best of its abilities. No point in letting the door hanging loose and allowing wild animals to find a place to nest inside. As was no point on dwelling that the same animals would soon find Xavier as a good alternative to their usual meals.
No way out but through, he thought and started marching forward. Soon enough, he was going to leave the van behind, and he was going to walk and walk, until the thing was going to turn into a small point at the horizon, just like Haven did, hours ago. Only that, this time, Xavier was not going to turn and look back.
A sound in the distance startled him. He turned slowly. What could that be? The sound was mechanical in nature, so that was no animal. Riders? Xavier looked around. There was no place to hide. The only thing he feared was to be taken back to Haven. There were not many vehicles in that town, if what he had noticed was correct. So the chances were slim to have someone from there happening exactly in that area. To his knowledge, only Marcus and a few others were in charge of raids. The only scheduled raid was on Marcus's tab, and the man had no vehicle as of earlier that morning.
So there could be others. Ruthless people who probably were just going to kill him for the fun of it. He had no qualms with that, specifically, but he still needed to be as far from Haven as he could. If some idiots living in the heart of the dessert were going to be found by the powers that be and blown to pieces once the bracelet was going to lock down Xavier's location, that was not his problem.
He began moving faster. The problem with this awful dessert was that the dunes always looked closer than they were. Maybe he could make a run for one of them, but the more he hurried in one direction, the further the dunes seemed to move away from him.
The sound, on the other hand, was getting closer and closer. Xavier did not have the heart to look back now, and face his soon to be assailants. He was not that courageous. He needed to be brave later on, when he was going to have to fool them into taking him further and further away, but, for now, he could allow himself a moment of weakness. That if they didn't shoot him or skewer him first, no question asked.
Something else besides the sound of the vehicle approaching was taken by the wind, tickling his ear. He stopped and turned. And his heart sank. Screaming his name and riding in another strange contraption, of which Xavier had no knowledge of, next to that damn man called Marcus, Ayn was the one behind the wheel.
There was no point to run now. They were approaching faster, and running was just going to waste the energy he needed to put his lover in place and explain to him, as fast as easy as he could, what was going on. Ayn and Marcus had to run away from him like he was the plague, but they did not know it yet.
So he waited, crossing his arms over his chest. Ayn jumped from the car, the second he cut the engine and ran towards him.
And tackled Xavier, made him stumbled and fall on his ass, in the most ungraceful manner possible. Ayn straddled him fast, grabbing his flailing arms and pushing them up.
"What the fuck are you thinking, Xav?" Ayn yelled at him.
He could almost taste the hurt in those deep black eyes. So he chose to close his.
"Don't you fucking dare," Ayn shook his entrapped arms, to make a point. "Look at me and tell me why the fuck you ran away like a coward in the middle of the fucking night!"
"Give the man a breather," Marcus intervened and grabbed Ayn by one shoulder, only to be shaken away in anger. "How is he going to talk if you're hounding him like this?" the man continued.
Ayn breathed hard a few times and then he pushed himself up with a huff. He didn't offer Xavier a hand, but Marcus hurried to do that instead. All right, he could take an offered hand at this point. He got to his feet, and murmured a short thanks to Marcus, who just nodded and moved away. The guy was probably curious about what was going on, too, but he was decent enough to stay a little away, yet still within earshot.
"So?" Ayn made an exasperated gesture with one arm. "Care to enlighten me, Xav? What the fuck did I do? Couldn't you just stay you didn't like it or something? You had to run away?"
"You did nothing wrong," Xavier spoke.
That earned him a somewhat doubtful look from Ayn. Marcus was just pretending he needed to clean his fingernails with the tip of his knife.
"It's this," Xavier raised his hand and showed the pulsing light on the bracelet.
This time, Marcus seemed to forget about his weird hygiene habits. He was staring at Xavier's bracelet, just as dumbfounded as Ayn.
"The fuck is that?" Marcus asked roughly.
Ayn looked away guiltily.
"What the fuck is that, Your Majesty?" Marcus trained his attention on Xavier, after throwing a furtive look in Ayn's direction.
"This is a special device that, once this little grey light turns green, will pinpoint my location with 97.8% accuracy," he offered promptly.
"Fuck me sideways," Marcus murmured. "And what the fuck are you doing? Just take it off already! Who's going to find you? What's that supposed to mean?"
Ayn continued to remain silent. Marcus turned towards his friend.
"You knew about this? Is your so called lover having an army on his tail right now, coming to take him home? It's not my place to say, Ayn, but right now, stop thinking with your fucking dick. That's our death warrant, right there," he pointed at Xavier's hand.
Ayn looked down and shook his head.
"I should just leave both of you, fucktards, here in the fucking dessert," Marcus continued, "to let the coyotes eat your corpses."
"Be my guest," Ayn said aggressively. "I'm not letting Xav. Go the fuck back already."
Xavier felt the need to intervene.
"Marcus, I meant no harm to you or your home. And I don't mean it now either. All I want is to get as far away from Haven as I can, so that I'm not found in your vicinity at all."
"Without asking me if I'm okay with it?" Ayn began shouting again, his anger refueled by Xavier's words.
"You are not okay with it," Xavier said matter-of-factly.
"His Majesty is right," Marcus spoke.
"Shut the fuck up, Marcus," Ayn spat. "Of course I'm not okay with it. You're my fucking partner, or have you forgotten already? Really, Xav, you're a piece of work."
Xavier's mind was working in overdrive. He needed Ayn and Marcus as far away from him as they could possibly be. And all this chatting was not helping. So he decided to lie.
"Actually, Ayn, I have begun to get bored lately," he spoke, hoping his voice was not trembling and giving him away.
"No shit," Ayn glared. "You didn't seem bored yesterday night when I fucked your brains out three times in a row. You were calling my name, like I was your God or something."
Xavier closed his eyes for a second. It was not fair to be remembered why it mattered so damn much to drive this impossible and beautiful man away from him.
"Well, people change," he shrugged, but, even to his ears, he didn't seem too convincing.
"Not overnight," Ayn cut him short.
"Love birds, the clock is ticking," Marcus spoke. "Don't be fucking blind, Ayn. The man wants to save your ass. And the rest of us, although he probably think we're worse than muck on his shoes."
"I do not think that," Xavier said, hoping that his affronted voice sounded genuine enough. It was the truth, but he knew that making people like Marcus believe he was honest was a long shot.
"And you, stop lying," Marcus pointed a finger at him. "Breaking your man's heart more than you already did won't make things better."
Xavier opened his mouth to say something, but he frowned and decided against protesting.
"I don't want anyone to get hurt."
"So just take the damn bracelet off and let's bury it somewhere," Marcus offered the solution that seemed so obvious and right in front of their eyes at the moment.
"Impossible. I cannot take it off. The only thing I can do is this. Leaving and getting as far away from you as I can."
"No fucking way," Ayn said through his teeth. "Do you have some cutters, Marcus?"
"The van is full of them, I was just going to trade."
"Let's just try getting the damn thing off Xav."
Marcus nodded and headed for the van. That left Xavier and Ayn alone, with an awkward silence stretching between them.
"You're wasting your time," Xavier spoke first.
"We'll see about that," Ayn said darkly. "Honestly, I thought you kept to that bracelet because you were homesick or something."
"I'm not homesick. I wish the bracelet didn't exist. And that I didn't have to leave," Xavier began to explain.
Ayn shifted from one foot to another.
"You mean it?"
"Yes, I mean it," Xavier confirmed.
"And what you said earlier? A lie? Like Marcus said?"
"Yes," Xavier confirmed again.
Ayn just nodded, more to himself.
"Ayn," Xavier spoke softly. "I need to leave. I didn't tell you because I was certain I would not be able to leave after talking to you about it. I will put all of you in danger."
"No, you won't," Ayn said stubbornly.
"You cannot know that," Xavier sighed.
Ayn closed in the distance between them and grabbed Xavier by the lapels of his jacket. His eyes were burning again.
"How many times do I have to fuck you and tell you that I fucking love you to get it through your thick skull that you're mine?" Ayn asked angrily.
Xavier wanted to close his eyes, and ran away, but it was not possible. He had nothing to say to that. If he were to talk, he was just going to admit that all was true and he was just a coward who wanted to run back to Haven with Ayn, and hide under the blankets and ignore the entire world and its perils.
Marcus saved him by dropping to the ground a few power tools. Xavier eyed them warily.
"Well, let's get to work," Marcus spoke, with a small frown.
The man might have looked like a brute, but he knew to read the situation right. Now was not a good time for sentimentalisms.
***
"This is our library," Tora pointed some chairs next to a table so that Edgar and Cory could sit.
"So many old books," Edgar ignored the old woman's offer to rest, and began caressing the manuscripts laid on another, larger, table.
"A man of letters," Tora said with a small smile. "I do not yet know who you are, but since you're accompanying her son, you must be a good man."
Cory could not believe Edgar was blushing. Maybe he had not been praised too often in his life.
"Actually, I am a scientist," Edgar coughed to hide his embarrassment. "I am afraid that letters, while seductive as they are, are a luxury I cannot afford."
"By custom and attire, a scientist, of course," Tora confirmed. "But these eyes," she smiled again and touched Edgar's cheek with her rickety hand, "they are filled with hunger for knowledge. A knowledge only the letters can now feed. Please, child, peruse these old works to your heart's content."
"Aren't we here to talk about her?" Cory intervened, hoping he didn't sound too rude.
There was hunger in him, too, yet not for knowledge, or not only. He could feel almost a physical pull to those old papers, to read them at once, and learn who The One was.
"Impatient?" Tora turned his attention on him. "Yet, she was, too."
"The main attribute of godliness shouldn't be perfection?" Edgar expressed his curiosity right away.
"Alas, is this what you know?" the old woman asked.
"Just something I gathered from the old books Hector left in my home, for me to read. To expand my horizons, he said."
"Ah, Hector. Where would we all be without him?" Tora sounded reverent and nostalgic at the same time. "But you are here to learn about her. To answer your question, young scientist from Aeria, she is perfection and flaw, in one. Just like her children," her watery eyes trained on Cory, once more. "The beginning is here," she gestured to the shelves, loaded up the ceiling.
"It looks like a lot of reading," Cory headed for one of the shelves and just pulled one book at random.
"Your enthusiasm is much appreciated. I will let you to it. In a few hours time, we have dinner. Don't forget," the woman said.
The rustling of her clothes on the polished floor was soon replaced by the rustling of papers.
"Do you think we're still running high on whatever the sublimation machine did to us?" Cory questioned. "I mean, are the effects permanent or something?"
"Ah, Cory, don't tell me the prospect of dinner takes your mind off research already. Tora said that there are still a few hours until then. Although I must say that I would not say `no' to some food in my stomach as of right now. All this adventure seems to do wonders for one's appetite," Edgar joked.
Cory shook his head.
"No, it's not that. I just want to learn, and really fast. I need to know who she is. This ... what I feel, seems ... overwhelming. I can't even think about food until I discover what she should mean to me."
Edgar's face fell a little, only to brighten up seconds later.
"Well, then let's just get started, my friend. Busy minds are happy minds."
"I'm certain that it should be busy hands are happy hands," Cory said with a small chuckle.
"Whatever works for you, my friend," Edgar took his place at the table. "Whatever works."
***
Lucas was hunched over the old table in his study, picking the same thread in wood that had become his best friend as of late.
"Lord Lucas," the new servant he had been forced to employ, brought his trail of thought to a halt.
Lucas ground his teeth, just a fraction, feeling the tiny flexion of muscle ticking in his jaw. Yet, he wore a perfect perfunctory smile, as he raised his eyes to look at the servant.
"One of our master Trainers is here to see you," the servant spoke.
If the young man suspected any change in his master's behavior, he did a great job not to show it. His symmetric features remained serene, while waiting for Lucas to speak.
A Trainer? In his own home? Trainers were not known to make house calls. But it was not like he could dismiss the unwanted visitor.
"Please, see him in," Lucas spoke, schooling his face into a neutral demeanor.
The grey shape moved inside the room, a few seconds later. It was like the temperature had just dropped several degrees. It reminded Lucas of the morgue in Aeria. Unlike in Drena, where death was considered an unpleasant business, and hidden from view, in Aeria, he had seen dead people. The Trainers brought death with them, he thought idly, and the sudden realization almost made him twist his face into a grimace. How come he had not thought of this before?
"Father," he spoke, hoping that his willingness to please was not a tad too much.
He stood up to pay the proper respect to his visitor. The Trainer seemed pleased. It was strange how none of them had names. This one could be any of his brothers. Lucas could not be able to tell. Except for the Head Trainer, who seemed more sinister than the rest, not one could be individualized in any way. This was not a random event, a whim expressed by one of the Trainers. The strong hand keeping its grip upon the world was reaching for him, in his own home. Lucas had every reason to fear, but he chose to remain calm. It was getting easier and easier to let go of his emotions. They were nothing but fireflies roaming at his peripheral vision at this point.
"I am here to see your progress," the Trainer spoke.
"What do you mean?" Lucas inquired.
"You have gone through a complicated retraining process. You are our charge. You are in our care. With our most important plan soon to be in motion, we need to make sure that our First Ruler is dedicated to the cause, body and soul."
Lucas squared his shoulders, and chose to remain silent. It was unnerving to stare into those large grey orbs and rein in a natural response of revulsion, settled deep inside his guts.
"Give me your hand, son," the Trainer extended one hand.
Lucas could not allow himself to hesitate and offered his hand, as well. The rough papery hand of the Trainer grabbed his. Fingers curled and twisted like an old tree branch began mapping the inside of his palm, creeping upwards, until they circled Lucas's wrist.
The temptation to pull his hand free was almost too strong.
"We know what you did. Your temporary moment of weakness," the Trainer spoke. "The servant."
"What of him? He's dead."
"You don't believe it. I feel it in your blood," the Trainer squeezed Lucas's wrist.
Lucas curled his hand into a fist, trying to force the old bones to let him go. But for a man as old as him, the Trainer seemed to have no issue with keeping his hold on Lucas's wrist.
"I am a changed man. Fleeting emotions do not affect me anymore."
"What if I told you Cory the servant hadn't died in the mines?" the Trainer tried to throw him off balance.
And almost succeeded. Lucas swayed, but quickly regained his control.
"Not so fast, child. I did not say he survived."
Lucas could feel the ill omen radiating from the hooded figure. No, he was not going to believe their lies.
"See, Lucas," the grey shape uttered with something akin to affection in his voice, "we know all about your elaborate plan to send your dear servant to your friends in Aeria."
Lucas frowned, for a brief moment.
"Ah," the Trainer spoke, "forgive me. A small slight on my part. I did not mean to say friends, but friend. Edgar, isn't that the name? Quite a promising mind. In his prime, truth be told, but with too many visits paid to the sublimation machine, to survive long past his most productive years. Is my description accurate enough?"
Lucas was fighting his own self now.
"Don't fight it, Lucas," the Trainer raised his other hand to caress Lucas's forehead. "Let it all out. The injustice of it. One cannot place his faith in fate. So cruel. You already know what happened, without me saying anything. Edgar and Cory both dead. Do you feel guilty? You shouldn't, child."
Lucas could feel his heart beating, was hearing its pounding in his ears.
"Do you want to hear about how they went?" the Trainer continued.
"I would rather not," Lucas barely muttered. "It would be bad taste on my part to ask for such a thing, and a waste of time on your part, Father. You must be busy."
"But I must oblige. Not your plea, as you refuse to say it, but my fundamental need to come to your help. You see, your friend Edgar built, without our knowledge, an interesting contraption in his back yard. He took Cory with him and soared into the sky."
Lucas stared at the Trainer in disbelief.
"So they didn't die?" he forced his voice to sound neutral.
"They were swallowed by the dessert. They were traveling west. And west of Aeria, there is nothing but ..."
"Tresalt," Lucas spoke.
"No man has ever entered Tresalt. Maybe the dessert got to them. Maybe they died of thirst first, went mad with it. They must be nothing but bones now."
Lucas tried to recoil from the Trainer's touch, but he felt paralyzed. He blinked a few times, trying to chase away the nasty sensation of having something stuck into his eyes.
"Why are you telling me this?" he asked, his willingness to fight growing thinner by the second.
"Punishment is love, son. A truth that must be reinforced on any given occasion."
"I paid my dues," Lucas said sharply. "There is no need to hear of such things. They are of no consequence for me."
"Are you that certain?" the Trainer scanned Lucas's face with his dead eyes.
"My mind and body are at your service, Father," Lucas spoke.
"What is your current servant's name?" the Trainer changed the subject all of a sudden.
"My servant's name?" Lucas frowned. "I have no idea and it does not matter."
"So how do you call him?"
"I don't call him. He has no need for such a thing. He already knows his way around this house better than I do."
"Servant, come here," the Trainer spoke.
To Lucas's surprise, his new servant emerged from the shadows and stood one foot away from them, waiting for orders.
"Take good care of your master. We need the First Ruler ... To be fit to rule. Do you think you can handle this noble task?"
The servant bowed.
"Yes, master Trainer."
Lucas looked at the exchange in front of him, feeling that there was something amiss. Trainers never visited anyone. They could summon him at any given moment. They could have the world. But they could never have his heart.
"I must leave you now, child," the Trainer turned his attention on him again. "Don't let the news about Cory and Edgar affect you."
"Why?" Lucas asked, the bitterness in his mouth too much to handle.
"We need you," the Trainer smiled, showing sharp, yellow teeth. "When you are needed, there is responsibility weighing on your shoulders."
Lucas shrugged.
"As I said, I am here. At your service," he said every word like it was forced out of his mouth with pliers.
The Trainer's smile grew wider and more sinister.
"Servant, I place your Master in your care," the Trainer addressed the servant again, but without tearing his watery eyes away from Lucas.
"Yes, Master Trainer," the servant took another bow.
Lucas stared blankly in front of him, for long minutes after the Trainer was gone. He barely noticed the young servant placing a cup of steaming tea in front of him. Only when he felt the servant's hand on his cheek, armed with a tissue, he came to his senses.
"What are you doing?" he grabbed the servant's wrist with one hand.
"I am taking care of you, Master," the servant spoke in the same even tone, without blinking.
"Did I ask you for such a thing? Let me be!" Lucas lashed out.
"My purpose is to serve. Master Trainer was clear."
"Get out of my face!" he pushed the servant away.
The young man moved, but no emotion showed on his serene face. He just bowed and withdrew. Lucas was breathing heavily by the time his servant was gone from the room. Burying his face into his palms, he let the darkness growing inside take him.
***
"Fuck," Ayn expressed his frustration after the blade slid on metal for the umpteenth time.
Marcus wiped the sweat on his forehead with the back of his head. The man's face was all a frown.
"As you can see," Xavier said with a sigh. "I do not wish to say I told you so, but, well, you cannot deny the facts. The bracelet is indestructible."
"Yeah, well, you don't have to be a jerk about it," Ayn kicked one small rock in frustration, projecting it a few feet away.
The sun was getting unbearable. Xavier could feel his shirt gluing to his back. Marcus ground his teeth and picked up another power tool from the pile growing bigger and bigger next to him. Xavier caught the man's arm.
"This is enough," he said simply.
"Are you sure, Your Majesty?" Marcus's voice was grim.
"I have already accepted my faith."
"Like hell!" Ayn spat. "I haven't, okay? Fucking asshole!"
Marcus pushed Ayn away, as the young man was clearly trying to reach for Xavier again.
"So, what will it be, Your Majesty?" Marcus asked, while barring Ayn with one arm from moving forward.
"Well, I suggest you two return to Haven. I will ... just walk, as far away from here as it is possible. I have already lost too much time with your futile tries."
Xavier could hear Ayn's ragged breathing. The young man looked like he was about to do something stupid.
"So, that's it? No other way?" Marcus asked.
Xavier shook his head.
"Is that thing still going to work once you take it out?" Marcus questioned again.
"There is no way of saying."
"But if we do take it out, and bury it, or throw it somewhere away from here, it would be all right, wouldn't it?" Marcus continued.
"What if is a dangerous pattern of thinking. It is the opposite of reality," Xavier said in a calm voice.
He was stalling. He should have been on his way by now. But he was here, still trying not to look at Ayn, still trying to let go, but to no avail.
"We cannot take the bracelet off," Marcus said matter-of-factly. "But it's not like it's glued to you or anything."
Xavier frowned. Ayn's heavy breathing was now suspended, like the man was not breathing at all.
"You're going to die out there, right?" Marcus gestured towards the dessert stretching in front of them.
"Without a doubt," Xavier confirmed, his mind kicking into gear.
"What the fuck are you talking about, Marcus?" Ayn broke himself free from his friend's hold.
Xavier looked straight at Marcus, and the man smiled at the flicker of recognition that must have lit the eyes of the former First Ruler of Drena.
"His Majesty knows what I'm talking about," Marcus grinned. "Right, Your Majesty?"
"Confirmed," Xavier nodded.
Ayn's eyes were wild as they moved between the two other men.
"No, no, no, no fucking way! You can't be fucking serious!" he yelled.
"So you prefer to send him to die out there, in the dessert?" Marcus looked at Ayn.
"I won't kill him myself, you fucking scumbag!" Ayn growled.
"Watch that fucking mouth, Ayn," Marcus growled back. "I'm offering you two lovebirds here a chance. And it ain't that slim. I know what I'm doing. Stop being an idiot and go grab the torch from the van. It's under the seat. Bring that bottle of booze, too. We're going to need it."
Ayn walked away, almost stumbling on his own feet. Xavier was calm as he looked at Marcus.
"Do you really know what you're doing?" Xavier questioned, as soon as Ayn was out of earshot.
"Yeah. You don't get caught in the crossfire as many times as I have, without having to go through stuff like that," Marcus spoke.
"All right, then. I count on your expertise."
"I must give you points for being so cool about it, Your Majesty. Should I be on your end, I'd shit my pants," Marcus said with a small smile.
"It's a good thing for your personal hygiene, then, that you're not on my end," Xavier replied with a small smile.
"You care about the punk, don't you?" Marcus looked in the distance, at Ayn slowly making his way back.
"As I only care about my own self. Or more. I am not certain."
"Well, you better be certain, Your Majesty, because it's for his sake that we're going to cut you a little. It will only be the thumb and what's around it, but it will still hurt like hell."
"No need to remind me. But I haven't thought of this solution, so I must thank you."
"Well, your gratitude is well received. It will make up for all the names you're going to call me later, when I'm on the job."
"It's all deserved. You are an ... interesting man, Marcus," Xavier said.
Marcus made a small curtsy.
"Here," Ayn interrupted them, by throwing the torch on the ground.
"Well, no moment like the present. Feed your loved one some booze. It's better if he's not entirely conscious while I do this."
Ayn had a somber look on his face as he handed Xavier the bottle.
"I think it's better to keep it as disinfectant," Xavier refused it. "I will need it later."
Marcus shrugged.
"Don't let this one go, Ayn," he patted his friend on the back. "He has balls of steel. Now keep him down, because he's going to thrash a lot. And keep the booze close. He'll need it."
Xavier lay flat on his back, allowing Ayn to straddle him and keep his arms immobilized. He could feel Marcus moving about, and he almost jolted when the man grabbed his wrist.
"Easy there, Your Majesty. I'm going to be as fast as I can. Then we'll seal the opening quickly with the torch, and you'll be as good as new."
"Minus one thumb," Xavier mumbled.
"The things we need to do for love," Marcus sighed.
"Stop joking, asshole," Ayn spat.
"He's just trying to lighten up the mood," Xavier explained, before Marcus could say anything.
"Thanks, Your Majesty," Marcus replied.
Xavier was about the say the perfunctory `you're welcome', when a sharp pain shot up his arm, straight to the end of his spine, at the conjecture with his skull. He felt his eyes rolling in his head, and through a haze, he felt Ayn struggling to open his mouth, and pull his tongue out.
It all lasted seconds. The pain suddenly disappeared and he blinked.
"What the fuck is this?" Marcus's voice was sharp and loud.
Ayn moved to look and Xavier pushed him away.
On the ground, his severed thumb was making a small whirring sound. He looked closer. There was blood, but somewhere else, too. Xavier raised his arm and looked at the metal loose ends hanging from the open wound in his hand.
"What the fuck are you, motherfucker?" Marcus suddenly pulled out a gun, from who knew where, pointing it at Xavier.
TBC
Author's note:
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