The Bound Soul: Chapter 12

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He molests my bare breasts as he pins me against the bed. My skin crawls at his touch as fear, anger, shame, and disgust well up inside of me once again. I can’t go through this again. I can’t be his victim. Not like this.

I must do something. Anything.

Phraan reaches underneath my skirts, and panic arises underneath me. The night I suffered through with that red-haired monster returns like a nightmare taking over a dream, pushing all my primal fear to the surface. His fingers crawl up my thighs and I can’t even scream with his hand squeezing my jaw shut. For the first time since I was broken by that man, I cry. There’s nothing I can do to stop him. I’m going to have to endure it all over again. Worse, because it has to be Phraan this time. How can this happen again?

No! I won’t be helpless. I won’t give in. I will not let him win. Anger boils inside me and I feel a surge of energy. That sweet euphoric and addictive energy I haven’t felt in ages. It warms over me and fills me with power, and unlike before, I’m overrun by it with the help of the invisible ring on my finger. The one I have kept all this time and nearly forgotten about.

I feel like a burning star with all the energy inside me, and then I release it. I release every drop into the man I hate more than anyone else, watching as every last bit of him is burned away. I take joy from the fear in his eyes as he realizes what is happening. But it is too late as cracks of fire-blue light sear across his flesh, burning away his skin as he’s engulfed in the flames and an explosion of the blue light fills the room.

It’s so intense that I can even see it through my eyelids. When it finally flashes out, there’s nothing left of Phraan. Not even a shred of the clothes he wore. I have no idea what I just did. I look at my hand to the ring that still sits on my finger invisible to the eye, and I’m taken with true amazement. I feel nothing for Phraan’s death. Nothing but satisfaction and that sweet, addictive energy as it slowly dwindles to a burning simmer.

I truly had no idea what I was capable of. This power is absolutely amazing. It felt so high and unstoppable. I want to feel more of it. It was far different from the feeling Orym gave me with his healing white light. It felt more powerful. More euphoric in a way. Far more intense than I have ever felt before.

A sudden crash goes off downstairs and I hear the clatter of footsteps marching upstairs before the door to the room is broken in by guards led by a dark-haired man in a robe with a sharp, hooked nose. He stares down at me with contempt. “You have been found guilty of using magic without a permit. I hereby place you under arrest. Seize her, and place the collar around her neck so she can’t channel. Let’s take no risks with her. I’ve never felt such power.”

The guards swarm me as a collar is wrapped around my neck, and suddenly I feel so weak and feeble. It’s as if I’m cut off from that hot, burning fire inside me. Cuffs bind my wrists and ankles. The guards drag me out behind the arrogant man in robes. Madame and the others stare with gaping mouths and wide-eyed expressions as I’m paraded through the brothel in chains. Even the patrons are speechless and horrified.

Am I going to face the same fate as my family, or worse?

To be continued in Broken Souls

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The Bound Soul: Chapter 11

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I’ve lost all sense of self since the night I endured the abuse of that man. He killed whatever innocence I had within myself and the bit of heart I had left. There’s nothing left of that girl I once knew. She is long dead and turned to ashes. All that is left of me are the broken pieces that are only pain, sorrow, shame, guilt, and regret. I spent several days in hopeless darkness that filled me with despair and shame. I didn’t feel like a person anymore. Just a thing that was used and tossed aside.

I lost any love I had for myself; I’m disgusted with who I have become. The physical pain may have been healed by the priestess, but I still hurt. She was a faceless angel who was gone when I awoke, who I never got to thank. There wasn’t a scar left on my body. But even though the physical pain I endured has been washed away, I still hurt. Not my body, but my heart and soul. The pain I feel inside is all-consuming. I’m drowning in it.

A large part of who I was is gone. Taken from me by that man. He stole a part of me. And for a while after, I became a shell of a woman. I couldn’t bring myself to continue on for a long time. If it weren’t for Tyma, I don’t know what would’ve happened to me. I spent many days and nights in bed crying. Reliving the nightmare over and over again in my head. Feeling so helpless. Completely powerless to stop him.

Every night, I close my eyes and see his face. I can’t even bear the touch of others, for it brings back the pain he left upon my body. Upon my soul. I weep with no one to pray to. And I feel like it’s my fault. This is what I agreed to. To be used for a man’s pleasure. It’s what I got paid to do. Right?

Therefore, I shouldn’t cry when a man uses me for his own twisted delights. That’s what I try telling myself, and yet I didn’t want to be abused so mercilessly. I never asked to be hurt like that. No one deserves that kind of treatment. And it feels like there is nothing I can do about it. Sure, Madame will now refuse service to that man, but who’s stopping it from happening again with a different man? It’s not like we can go to the guard about this. They’ll just say we’re whores and that’s what we get paid for. Maybe they’re right… I don’t know anymore.

But one thing is for sure, I know I’m not completely broken. Part of me still clings to a purpose. After my tears dried up, I somehow picked myself up and dusted myself off. I have to create a mask that holds a smile to hide the pain inside so I can do what is needed. While my family is in chains, I will not hide away in darkness. I know the abuse they endure is probably far worse than anything I will endure at the hands of a man with coin and a hard cock. I’ll endure what I have to in order to get the coin I need to free them. I don’t care what happens to me anymore. As long as I can free my family and friends, it’ll be worth the pain.

I pull myself together and head back to work. But never again will I ever allow myself to break under a man’s treatment. They can do what they want to me, but they will not get any satisfaction from seeing my tears or hearing my cries. Nor will I ever give another man my heart if there is anything left of it. I’ll please their cocks and get them off, but they will never break me.

And over the weeks, many have tried their best. I’ve truly sacrificed myself to pain, taking on any client with enough coin. Faced their worst. Some have tried to be as rough as they can with me, but they didn’t see a single tear. Some have tried to win my heart, but all they got was my body for the night.

I, however, have come to win their hearts. I have learned to properly play the game. Luring these lustful men into spilling their secrets and making them imagine a future we could have together if they continue to pay to be with me. They’re a bunch of hypocrites. They come back night after night for a love they think I can give them. Of course, most of them have wives of their own and completely disgust me. But I have created one of the best masks of deception. I can wear a smile like the best of them. Make even the wisest and stalwart men open their hearts and their purses to me.

I’ve gotten so skilled at the game; I even have men paying to pleasure me. I’ve learned to wrap them around my finger and convince them to put their balls in my hands so I can squeeze every last copper out of them.

I even have a wealthy captain of the Golden High Elf Trading Company as a regular whenever he’s in town. Captain Gorwin Glynydark. He is a decent-enough looking man with a face like any other. His nose is a little big, but he’s kind, gentle, and will do whatever I tell him to. He literally pays me coin just to worship me and lick my feet. He might be the captain of a ship, spending his time giving orders and commands, but in my presence, he’s completely submissive. I can tell him to do whatever I want, and he’ll do it and like it. He particularly loves to kiss my toes. I’m not much on feet since they’re usually dirty, but I don’t mind having mine worshiped. I once had him spend an entire session giving my feet and the rest of my body a massage. Such a great way to get paid.

Once I find my parents, I will have enough to buy them back. I’ve also taken a step to make sure no one will ever rob me again. I’ve put my gold into a secure bank. I learn from my mistakes, and I won’t ever make them again.

In being broken, I’ve become unbreakable. A force not to be reckoned with. I’ve even put Zaralraden to shame. Stealing most of her clients as well. She now begs to be ridden by the most desperate of men. Revenge is by far a dish best served cold. Even better than revenge is to surpass your rivals in power and importance. I’m now Madame’s best worker. Men fight each other to have just one moment with me, let alone an entire night. They’ll pay their entire fortune just for a kiss. It gives me much pleasure to have so much power over them. To snap my fingers and have a man fall to his knees to pleasure me. Not the other way around. That’s what Zaralraden never had. All she has now are my scraps. She can have her nasty High Father and the rest of the abusive pervs. I’ll take what I want from any man I want.

My name is whispered among both lustful men and jealous women alike. It’s revered. The women I work with wish they could be me, and the men want to have me. But neither will get what they want. No woman will ever be like me, and no man will ever truly have me.

Tonight, like all nights, men pour in to fight over me, trying to outbid each other for a moment alone with me. I leave it to Madame to put up with them as I make my way to my room. The best room in the brothel. It’s definitely the biggest. Used to be Zaralraden’s. Stupid cunt.

If only Orym could see me now. He would be so jealous and full of regret and desire. I hope I do see him again. I would love to rip the bastard’s heart out.

As I wait for whatever lucky man should get the privilege of being on their knees to eat my cunt out tonight, I pour myself an enormous glass of wine and relax by the window. The night is rather calm. Of course, we rarely ever get rain in the Shifting Sands. An occasional sand storm with heavy clouds of thunderous heat and lightning seems to battle in the sky. Those were horrible when we lived in tents. Everyone would bunker down in the Gallows and pray their belongings were still salvageable when it was over. Those bastard wood elves get all the rain. A bunch of uncivilized, tree-worshiping savages. They still cling to the old religion and their woodland goddess. I’ll never understand them.

The door opens and I don’t give the man the satisfaction of my attention. I just continue to look out the window, watching the moons fight for the sky while the man closes the door behind him.

But then a voice stills my beating heart. “You’ve grown quite the reputation, Little Sparrow.”

I spill my wine as I nearly stumble out of my chair when I meet the eyes of a man I hate more than anyone else. A man who is truly the reason I lost everyone I cared about. Phraan. He wears a wicked smile as he stands between me and the door. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this. A really long time.”

Before I can scream, he lunges at me, wrapping his hand around my mouth. He pins me against the bed, pressing his weight on top of me. His ugly face is smeared with a horribly sinister sneer. “I’m going to take my time and really enjoy this. The things I’m going to do to you will not be pleasant for you, but I’ll love every moment of it.’

Not again! I can’t go through this again. No… Especially not with him. I won’t be a victim again. I feel his hand crawling down my body and it makes me want to throw up. Fear mixed with anger boils in my blood as I struggle and fight as hard as I can. I won’t let him hurt me. Never! He tears at my blouse as I struggle to get his hands off of me. Tears well up in the corner of my eyes. No… Not again. Not with him. Please…

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The Bound Soul: Chapter 10

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I have no choice but to take on another customer. I need coin. Not just to free my family, but to survive. I can’t even afford food. I swallow my pride and head to Madame. “May I please have another customer, Madame?”

“Of course. And what preferences are you willing to indulge?” she asks.

“Any as long as the pay is good,” I say without meeting her eyes.

“Are you sure?” she asks, taking my chin in her hand and bringing my eyes to meet hers. I nod. “I’m not sure you know what you’re asking for.”

“I need the coin,” I say with a desperate plea.

“I understand. Just please come to me if things ever get too much. Okay?” she says. I nod silently. “Why don’t you take a long bath and have a glass of wine? Just try to relax. Tonight, I’ll get you one customer to start and we’ll go from there.”

I nod. “Thank you. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”

She wraps her arms around me and holds me for a few moments. “Now go soak in hot water. It usually calms the nerves.”

I nod and do as I’m told. Heating up water in the tub and taking a few long moments to soak in it. What have I gotten myself into? How could things come to this? Was there ever a possibility of a different path? I suppose I could’ve accepted that priest’s offer oh so long ago. It feels like an eternity ago since I was on top of that bell tower and she caught me up there weeping. She was kind, and looking back I wish I had taken her offer. I had been stupid and hasty.

Yet I feel Madame has also been very kind to me. Even though the situation is, for a lack of a better term, fucked; I truly feel like she does what she thinks is best. It’s hard to know what is truly good when you are always put in bad situations. Women shouldn’t have to sell their bodies for a man’s pleasure. But if I don’t work here, who would accept a street rat like me aside from a church I don’t believe in? My father always taught me to be skeptical of religion. To always question everything and find everyone’s true motivations and intentions. And usually, a person’s motives rarely align with the words coming out of their mouth. The best way to judge a person’s character is to watch and observe their actions. So far, Madame has been kind to me and helped me in the way she thinks is best.

Orym told me he loved me; he said he wanted to be here, yet he is not here. I haven’t seen him in so long. My heart is truly broken. I want to crawl into a hole and die there. How could I be so stupid as to think a man as handsome as Orym could ever want anything to do with a street rat like me? Tyma was right. People who come off as good, kind, and pure are the cruelest of them all. Even so, I’m the fool. Deep down, I knew it wasn’t to be. I knew he wasn’t the one. He didn’t feel like the one, but he was still so kind and gentle. He fooled me with such heartwarming words and a warm touch that I was willing to give my heart to him. I’m so stupid.

After the hot bath and two cups of hot, spiced wine, I feel a little more at ease. My stomach doesn’t feel as if it were digesting rotting fruit any longer. I have to take another glass of wine to down the foul-tasting tonic.

Madame has me wait in a room for my new customer. My mind wonders about what kind of things this man wants from me. I don’t think I’ll be so lucky to have another man as gentle as Orym. Part of me doesn’t want that anyway so my heart doesn’t grow attached. I’m not sure if I want to enjoy this anymore. My heart is still broken from all the pain I’ve been through. The guilt of my family’s enslavement because of my actions. The feeling of being abandoned by Orym and how stupid I was to fall in love with him. I just don’t want to be a fool any longer.

When the door finally opens, my heart leaps into my chest. A tall, muscle-bound man walks in, and I can tell he’s a ship captain for the Golden High Elven Trading Company. His face is that of a stone wall with burning red hair and eyes that seem to burn with a blue flame full of hate. There’s a scar across his mouth, and one of his long pointy ears has the tip cut off.

I lower my head as he walks around the room, inspecting it. Then I see him start to take his clothes off. He doesn’t seem to be the talkative type. But what happened next, I did not expect.

Everything seems to happen all at once, and I’ve never felt so helpless in my entire life. Especially now, laying bare on the floor, shivering, and covered in sweat. Tears bleed down from my eyes. His hands paint a map of the hurt he left upon my body. I can’t fight, I can’t say no, I just feel frozen by fear. He rips the hope from my heart. Strips me of myself.

I can feel his hands around my neck… That hateful stare burning down upon me. The unrelenting assault upon my body never seems to end. He didn’t even give me the courtesy of the comfort of a bed, instead he has me pinned against the cold, hard floor. The rough wood against my face is something I know I will never forget. I’m still bleeding where he tore me apart. I feel so cold. He takes the warmth from me and leaves me with only this chilling, frozen fear and despair. I feel my heart being ripped open and wrung out. I cling to the floor, my nails digging into the wood as my soul is torn with each of his savage assaults.

My mind swirls in and out of the blackness, clinging to a shred of light. My eyes seek mercy and only find the name of this monster. Faidhor Haryrwen, stitched upon his tunic lying in front of me. A name I will never forget.

Time seems to stretch forever while all I feel is pain. I have lost the world around me and my only escape is the icy darkness of my mind. I barely remember him leaving. Just the sound of him putting his clothes on before he walks out, leaving me here shivering on the floor, curled up in tears.

I hurt everywhere, and what little innocence I had left inside me has died in the short few moments in which it took him to break me. He took what little shred of life I had left.

I don’t know how long I laid on the floor, weeping. I no longer have any sense of time. Just pain. It’s all I feel, and each moment is an eternity of suffering.

I hear someone walk in and gasp. “Lura?”

I don’t move as they kneel down. I flinch away as I feel their touch. “Madame!”

The world around me seems to fade as I drown in my pain. I hear their words, but they all sound so empty and hollow. “She’s bleeding. Get a healer. Find the priestess. She’ll help.”

“I’m so sorry… If I had known what that man was going to do to you, I would’ve never let him inside. I don’t tolerate such behavior.” My head is pulled into a lap and a hot towel is pressed against my forehead. I no longer have tears to weep with. Even after they cover me with a blanket, I still lie there shivering. I don’t even remember being lifted into the bed.

I don’t know what hurts worse, the pain that was dealt to my body by that horrible man, or Orym’s empty promises that broke my heart. It’s hard to tell which man is worse. The one who broke my heart, or the one who broke my body.

Then I feel that warmth enters my body once more. That familiar warming joy. It makes the pain fade away and I’m enveloped in the joyous warmth. I want to lose myself in it. Is it him? Orym? Has he finally returned to me? Please, let it be him.

I force my eyes open to such blinding light and see some angel standing above me. Is it really him? Slowly, the warmth fades, taking the light and joy with it, leaving only a blurry outline of a woman with golden hair standing above me. There is something familiar about her, but my mind is too heavy with fog. I can’t think straight. “You poor child. You are safe now. I will take away your pain. Just sleep, poor child. Just sleep.”

Her voice is one I have heard before, but I can’t place it. I feel her touch against my cheek and it radiates with warmth, but then it’s gone as I drift off into the darkness.

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The Bound Soul: Chapter 9

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I feel as if I walk upon the clouds. My smile won’t fade and this joy won’t either. I do not know how I came to be so fortunate to experience this love, but I will cherish it.
All day I wait for the moment to come where I can be with Orym. My holy Paladin. The hero of my heart. I can’t help but consider his offer to join the church and be with him, even though we’d have to keep our relationship in the shadows. Even so, it would be worth it. A love in the shadows with this much passion is far better than no love at all.
As my shift begins, I happily skip over to the Brothel. Madame gives me a room and I sit and wait for the handsome man to return to me. I make sure my dress is straight, my hair done up, the room clean, and everything perfect while I wait.
I pace and drink a glass of wine, waiting for my love to come. I know he’ll come. He said he would, and I know he’s a man of his word. He will come.
I look out the window for him and watch the moons chase each other across the sky. Finally, a knock at the door startles me. I quickly make sure everything is perfect, re-straightening my dress and hair while checking the room before I answer the door. Unfortunately, it’s Madame. “I’m sorry, child. I do not think he is coming and I need the room.”
“But he said he’d come. I know he’ll come,” I say in protest.
“Then I will find another room for you when he does show up,” she says. I relent and follow her out. “Why don’t you wait on some tables in the meantime? Don’t forget why you’re working here. Your family should come first. And child…”
I meet her eyes. “Don’t give your heart to a man who has to pay for it with coin. More often than not, they don’t deserve it.”
I don’t say anything, but I want to. Orym is not like that. He is a kind and an honorable man. I know that in my heart, but I do as she says and wait tables while enduring disgusting remarks and men’s wandering hands. Maybe he wasn’t able to sneak away tonight. Maybe he was sent on a mission. There must be a reasonable explanation for his absence. I’m sure he’ll tell me tomorrow when he arrives.
However, when tomorrow arrives, he does not come with it. I spend all night serving drinks at the cost of my self-worth. Serving these disgusting men who love to degrade and demean women with awful remarks. It can wear down even the hardest of souls.
The next night is the same. No Orym, and my heart cracks with every night we are apart. Surely, he is out on a mission. Surely, he’ll return. I just have to wait, but the days go by. Madame suggests I should take up other customers to earn money, but I’m reluctant to do so. What if I do and he returns? I couldn’t bear his heartbreak if he saw me with another man.
However, that night as I return to the room I share with Tyma, who was kind enough to let me move in with her after she finally moved out of the Brothel, I find the place broken into. All the coin I worked so hard to save was stolen. I felt so broken and devastated. Every last copper I’d earned was gone. All the coin I was saving to free my family was all gone!
I can’t help but break down and cry. Even Tyma’s words can’t make me feel any better. Even worse is the awful feeling in my gut telling me that perhaps Orym didn’t love me. Perhaps he just said those things to take my virginity. Maybe he’ll never return; he’ll just move on to another brothel and use another whore as dumb as me for believing his lies. I bury my face into my pillow and scream. I hate this world.

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The Bound Soul: Chapter 8

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As I arrive at work, full of nervousness and anticipation, I talk to Madame. “I think I’m ready to give my virginity to my client.”

She looks caught off guard. “Really? I suppose that could be wise. Especially since you seem to have him wrapped around your finger. Just know that men seem to lose interest once you give it to them.”

My breath catches in my throat. Orym wouldn’t do that, would he? He’s a Paladin. Holy and divine. He’s a righteous and devout man. He wouldn’t. “I’ll do it.”

“Okay then. I’ll set it up when he comes in. Why don’t you go up to the same room as last night and get ready? Just so you know, when you lose your virginity, it isn’t pleasant for the most part. It can be quite painful and bloody. I will have a talk with him and make sure he’s gentle. If he isn’t, let me know and I’ll make sure he regrets it,” she says in a stern voice.

I nod. “Thank you, Madame. I appreciate all that you have done for me.”

She nods and gives me a half smile. “Of course. I look out for my girls. Now go prepare and have a glass of wine or two. And I’ll have a tonic to prevent pregnancy brought up to you. You might need to wash it down with wine.”

I nod and rush up the stairs. I tidy up, spray perfumes, make sure the bed is set, check my dress, and then double-check everything again. I do as Madame suggests and drink two glasses of wine. It lifts some of the anxiety off my shoulders. But I still wonder – what if he leaves me after?

 A knock at the door makes my heart leap into my throat. I check everything once more, take a deep breath, and answer the door. Standing at the door is Tyma. She’s smiling with a cup in her hands. Right, the tonic.

“Here ya go. You’ll want to down this foul-tasting drink before you do the deed. You don’t want to get a baby inside you. Trust me, you’ll be left to fend for yourself with no coin to help,” she says, handing me the cup of tonic.

I nod and take it. I sniff it and recoil in disgust. “That’s putrid.”

She shrugs. “It’s worth it though. It goes easy with wine.”

I nod and pour myself another cup. I have to go sip for sip, and even then, I need another cup of wine before I can drink it all. It tastes like rotten eggs. Like something spicy and poisonous.

“So, are you ready? Madame told me what you plan to do tonight. It’s always nerve-wracking to lose your virginity. I remember when I lost mine. It was a long time ago to a rather ugly man, but he was kind and gentle. Honestly, if you could get past his homely face, he was a decent man. I’d certainly take him over some of the best-looking men who are rotten to the core. There are plenty of them out there.”

“I think I’m ready. Orym said he’d be gentle. I trust him, oddly enough.”

“Good. Well, I have to go. Good luck,” she says with a smile and a wink. I return the smile with a nod as she heads to her own room.

I catch myself pacing back and forth, worrying if I have misjudged Orym. He’s been so nice and kind to me, but what if he’s just acting and is truly a horrible person underneath? I refuse to believe that.

A knock at the door pulls me out of my thoughts. I scurry over to it and my breath catches in my throat as the man, with all his handsomeness hidden behind a cowl, stands before me. I step aside and let him in, closing the door before he pulls down the hood. “I’ve been waiting for this moment ever since the last one we shared together.”

“Me too,” I say, fidgeting with my hands. I don’t quite know what to do with them, so I force them behind my back. “I am so nervous.”

“I don’t blame you. But don’t worry, my lady, I won’t hurt you. I promise. Are you still sure you want to do this? We can just talk like last time,” he says.

“If that’s what you want, then let me inform Madame, so you’re not charged with taking my virginity,” I say.

“No, you don’t have to tell her. I don’t mind paying as long as the coin gets in your hands,” he says.

“Then we will have sex. I won’t let you pay for a service you didn’t receive,” I say.

“It’s not just a service to me. It’s far more than that. You make me feel as if I’m not alone,” he says, stepping up to me.

I walk to him, resting my hands on his chest. “I feel the same way.”

He wraps me in his embrace, and my soul warms with his kiss. My hands slide up and wrap around his neck as I kiss him back. He lifts me up and I wrap my legs around his waist while he carries me to the bed, laying me down gently. I feel his hot breath against my skin as his lips leave a trail of kisses down my neck. He looks up and down at me. “One last time. Are you sure you want to do this?”

I nod with a smile. “Yes. Just promise not to leave me after tonight. I don’t know if I can stand being without you.”

He smiles. “I promise I won’t abandon you.”

I return his smile before I lean up and kiss him. “Also, please be gentle. I heard it hurts.”

“Do not worry Lura. I am a Paladin. I have a way of making pains go away. All you’ll feel tonight is the pleasure we share,” he says with a smile as he undoes my dress before tugging it off me. Then he pulls off my stockings and undergarments.

I lay completely naked and exposed on the bed before him as he undresses himself, revealing carved muscle with scars here and there throughout his torso. I sit up and trace my fingers on each scar. “So many scars. What have you been through?”

“Do not worry, it is the way of a Paladin. We put ourselves in danger so others are safe from it.” He smiles and winks.

“I would not wish you to be in danger,” I say.

“If not me, then who? I’m sorry to say, Lura, but that is just the way of things. Paladins are the shield of Light that protects the realms against the darkness. This is my purpose in life, and I fulfill it willingly with honor,” he says proudly with his chest out.

“Will you at least promise me you won’t risk your life for anything short of a truly righteous cause?” I ask. He nods.

“Of course. Every cause I take up is a righteous one,” he says with another wink.

He lets his pants drop, showing that beautiful cock that seems to come to life at the sight of me. He then grabs my thighs and drags me to the edge of the bed as I laugh. I truly didn’t expect him to bury his face between my thighs, nor the pleasure that comes from it. He has me moaning in worship. I feel like a melted puddle of butter, gripping the sheets so I don’t fall over the edge.

Finally, he stands up and wets his cock with his spit. “Are you ready? This might feel a little uncomfortable. But don’t fear, my beautiful woman. It will not hurt.”

I nod, completely trusting this man. With one hand on his cock, he places the other against my pelvis. Then slowly presses his big, meaty cock against my cunt, rubbing the tip up and down against my lady lips. I take a sharp breath in as he presses the tip inside me and it truly feels uncomfortable. But then, a white-hot glow comes out of his hand, filling me with so much warmth. It’s intoxicating. It feels just like every time I’ve ever used magic. So filling and wonderful. A joy of life. But this feeling is slightly different. The magic I’ve used before always felt like a sweet candy-filled and wine drunk joy, but very empowering and somewhat addicting all the same. This warmth feels pure, clean, and divine. As if I am one with this light that seems to envelop me. I want to hold on to it and never let it go.

I can feel his big cock fill me up as the heat engulfs me with so much joy and wonder. I want to live in this light. Bathe in it. I’ve felt nothing like it. It makes me feel as if I’ve died and gone to the place where only the worthy are allowed. The church calls it Heaven. This must be what it feels like. His cock continues to fill me up as the warmth leaves me feeling intoxicated.

Oh, sweet mercy. I think he’s all the way inside me. I want to feel this way all the time. To feel such joy mixed with pleasure. To feel so warm and happy. It’s addicting. He takes his hand away from my pelvis, taking the warmth and joy with him, leaving only an uncomfortable pleasure. “What was that?” I ask.

“The healing power of the Divine Light,” he says as he lifts me up and brings me to the top of the bed.

“That felt amazing,” I say, holding on to him.

He smiles as he leans down and kisses me while slowly thrusting inside me. This pleasure feels amazing too, but nowhere near as good as that warmth. He then leans down again, taking my head in his hands and kissing me. Suddenly, I’m overwhelmed with that joyful warmth once more. It feels like paradise. It’s even warmer than the heat of the sun, and yet it doesn’t feel draining, but fulfilling. I want to feel so much more of it. I want it all.

His lips connect with mine, and I breathe him in, clinging to him and that wonderful light. I hold on to him as he fills me both with his cock and with his soul. I’ve never felt so good. He thrusts his cock inside me, and they become harder and faster. The pleasure tries to battle the joyful warmth, but ultimately loses out. Nothing could feel as good as this. His lips wander down to my neck as he fucks me, filling me with so much joy and warmth.

I can feel his breathes become heavy and his thrusts become erratic. His kisses become primal, and the light feels far more intense. I’m drowning in joy, warmth, and pleasure. I want it to take me.

I finally fall over the edge and feel the intense pleasure wash over me along with his burning hot seed filling me up. He collapses on top of me as the warmth slowly fades, taking the pleasure with it, but the joy seems to stay. I hold his head against my breasts as his breath staggers and struggles. He’s soaked in sweat and shivers with coldness. I hold him tight and keep him close. He seems to be on the edge of consciousness. I hold him close to my heart, Nourishing him with my love.

He barely whispers. “Sorry about that… I lost control. I didn’t mean to use that much power. It drained me.”

“Don’t apologize for that. It was the most wonderful, amazing thing I’ve ever felt. I’ve experienced nothing like it,” I breathe, kissing his head.

“Well, hopefully, it won’t be your last time experiencing it. You know, if you trained at the church, you’d feel it quite often whenever you use the Light,” he says.

“How does one use the Light? I am filled with the blue magic,” I say.

He struggles to get to his elbows and lifts up his necklace with a crystal attached. “It purifies the magic we use and converts it to the Divine Light. You see, I too harness much of the Arcane magic. I was born with it, but this lets me turn over to the Light.”

“That is fascinating. So, if I go to the church, will I be given one as well?” I ask.

He nods before he rests his head back down against my bosom. He kisses my skin as his hands caress me softly. “I will have to go soon. I don’t want to, but if the church finds me sneaking off to this brothel, they’ll surely send me away.”

“Will you be back tomorrow?” I ask.

“I will find a way to sneak out and return. I think I love you. Would you ever come away with me? You can become a priestess and we can be together. In secret, of course, because any form of an intimate relationship is forbidden for us, but no one will ever find out.”

“I would love to, but I need the money to save my family from slavery. Does the church pay at all?” I ask.

“It pays decently. I won’t lie; it probably isn’t as good as the coin you make here, but it’s honest work and it makes you feel like you’re making the world a better place most of the time. Of course, it is burdened heavily with politics and bureaucracy, but what isn’t?”

I laugh. “That is true. Even a brothel has a level of bureaucracy.”

He smiles and kisses both of my breasts. “Just think about it, and we can discuss it tomorrow when I fill you with my Light again.”

I laugh and kiss his head. “Oh, please fill me with your Light.”

He smiles and winks. Then, he gives me one last kiss before he pulls himself up off the bed. He staggers and wobbles a bit. His face is slightly pale.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

He nods. “Yes, quite so. But I may have used more energy than I should’ve. Just like with the Arcane magic, using the Divine Light takes a toll. You can only use so much of it before you tire out.”

“Well, please be careful. I don’t want you hurting yourself just to show me some joy.”

“It was worth it. Trust me. I enjoyed it just as much as you did,” he says as he finishes getting dressed. I go to him and kiss him as he wraps his arms around me, holding me close. “Tomorrow I’ll be back and we can be together again.” “I can’t wait,” I say as we share one more kiss before he leaves with his cowl hiding his handsome face once more.

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The Bound Soul: Chapter 7

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For some reason, I cannot wait for the night to come and work to begin. To see Orym again fills me with so much anticipation and excitement. Is that wrong? He’s consumed my thoughts. Especially his gentle kindness and warm touch. I want to feel his hands in my hair once more. To see those bright shimmering eyes upon me.

When the time finally comes, I am so giddy with anticipation that I could burst. As my shift starts, Madame pulls me aside. “It seems you really did a number on that man; he wants you for an entire night and he’s willing to pay handsomely. I don’t know what you did, child, but make sure you do it again. You also might want to reconsider what you’re willing to do. I can only imagine what he’d be willing to pay for your virginity or even just to feel the pleasure of your arse. It would be worth it. I assure you.”

“You might be right. I’ll think about it tonight when I am with him,” I say, trying to hold back a smile and give nothing away. I trust Madame to an extent, but I do not want her to know the way I feel about him. She might think I am a foolish child. I’m starting to think that too.

She nods. “Well, he’s waiting for you in the room on the far wing.”

“Thank you, Madame. I guess I shouldn’t keep him waiting,” I say and force myself to hold back from rushing to him. I try to walk as calmly as I can up to the far wing.

As I walk in, he is standing as he did before, facing the window in his cloak. He turns to me and pulls back his cloak, revealing that handsome face. His eyes seem to widen with awe. As soon as I close the door behind me, he comes to me, taking my face in his hands before he kisses me deeply. Then he quickly pulls back, turning away from me. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be so forceful.”

“Don’t apologize, and I do not consider that forceful. I quite enjoyed it,” I say as my heart races faster.

He turns to me with relief and desire in his eyes. “I requested you for the entire night. I hope that isn’t too much.”

“Not at all. I was actually looking forward to this all day,” I say with a smile.

“I know you’re not comfortable with most things, and I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want. I intend to make this just as enjoyable for you as it has been for me,” he says, taking my hand in his.

“Maybe, with the right man I’d surely consider doing more. Especially if he is as caring and gentle as you,” I say, biting my lip.

“Well, I’ll admit I am a bit jealous of this man. I hope he is worthy of your love,” he says.

“He is you, silly. Or at least I’d like him to be,” I say with a smile.

His grin makes my heart melt. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

He takes me in his arms and nuzzles his nose against mine, making me smile. I lean up to kiss him and his lips take in mine. His arms wrap me up and make me feel safe and loved. He’s a Paladin of the Light, and I can feel that Light shine out from him. He has such goodness in his heart and I want to feel its warmth.

I reach down and start to unbuckle his belt, but he stops me. He pulls back and looks me in the eye. “What’s the rush? We have all night. Let’s cherish the moment and get to know one another.”

Joy washes over my face, and it’s shown in my smile. “I’d like that. A lot.”

“Would you like some wine?” he asks as he walks over to the table where a jug rests along two empty cups.

“Sure.” I linger by the doorway, not sure what to do as I rub my elbow.

He pours us both a cup and hands me one before he goes over to the bed. He takes a long sip and sets it aside. “Will you join me on the bed? I’d like to feel your warmth.”

I nod, taking a sip of the wine before setting it aside and laying down next to him. He wraps me in his arm and lets me rest my head on his chest. His other hand runs through my hair with gentle care.

“So, tell me, Lura, how did you end up here?” he asks.

“Well, I used to live down in Tent City with my parents. I spent a lot of time with my uncle and his crew of thieves. He wouldn’t let me join him on his jobs, but I spent much time pick-pocketing and stealing from vendors. Anything I could to feed my family,” I admit.

“I find it atrocious how people are left to starve and fend for themselves while others live in wealth and hoard it for themselves,” he says as his finger twirls a strand of my hair.

I look up at him to see the righteousness in his eyes. “Yes, it seems like a grave injustice.”

“What more happened for you to end up in this place?” he asks.

“My uncle and his crew were arrested, all because a man who was a brother of one of the guards wanted to force himself on me. He was stopped by my uncle and his friends and tossed out, but he betrayed them and led the guard to my uncle’s hideout and they were all taken. I somehow escaped and went home, but unfortunately, the man led the guard to my parents, and they were taken solely because they were my parents and he wanted me,” I say. The memories bring the pain with them.

“That is awful. Who is this man? Maybe there is something I can do?” he asks.

“No, it’s unimportant now. I snuck into Low Town from a crack in the wall I used to slip in to steal things. I wandered the streets a bit before men tried to take me, but Madame stepped in and took me in. I started serving drinks, trying to save up coin to buy my family’s freedom. But serving drinks doesn’t quite pay enough, so I decided to serve men in a different way. I’m desperate to see my family free. Fortunately, you’re my first customer.” I look up at him with a smile. 

He leans down and kisses my head. “You have a kind soul. I can see that as clear as the night sky.”

“Really? I don’t feel like a good person. Good people don’t sell their bodies for pleasure or steal, for that matter,” I say.

“I wouldn’t say that. I think good people sacrifice what they have for what they feel is right. You are sacrificing your body to follow your heart so that you can one day right the wrongs that have been done to you. I think you’re a very good person. Better than most. Heck, better than most who follow the Light even,” he says, with a sincere smile. “Better than me.”

“I don’t believe that last part. You’re so kind,” I say.

“To you, I am kind, but my sword and hands are soaked in enough blood to damn me for an eternity. You would think following the Light would be peaceful, but unlike priests, Paladins are no stranger to war and death. I joined the faith after my family was brought to the sword by Northern Savages. They slaughtered my entire family and fed on their corpses like demons. My parents worked for the Golden High Elf Trading Company on their ships and would travel to and from Chillshore on merchant ships trading. I was with them this time for whatever reason; I can’t remember. We were attacked when we were taking a shipment from Chillshore down to Barefrost by these savages who feed on the flesh of others. I watched as I hid while my parents were slaughtered and fed on. If it weren’t for the priestess Damaris, I’d be dead. She shielded me and men came from Barefrost, driving the savages back.” He takes a moment to take in a deep breath and let it out as he looks out at the window. “I vowed that I would get my revenge on the savages. I trained to become a warrior, but was brought to the Light by the same priestess who saved my soul. Sister Damaris was once again there for me. She’s kind and true to the faith. I wish all who claimed to follow the Light were like her, but sadly the church is full of those who claim to follow the Light but only serve themselves. Anyway, I will one day return to the north and seek justice against the savage cannibals.”

“I am so sorry for your pain and loss. That is truly awful and sad,” I say as I look up at him and bring my hand to cup his face. He leans into my touch, covering my hand with his own. I wish I could wash away his pain. I want to clean him of all that he suffers from. I get up and kiss him. He pulls me into his arms and holds me close, kissing me softly. “I do know of that priestess you mentioned. She used to come down to Tent City to help the people in need.”

He smiles. “That sounds like her.”

We stay just like this, holding each other with kisses. I want nothing more than to remain in his embrace. But unfortunately, our time together comes to an end. “I feel so guilty. I didn’t even give you the pleasure you paid for.”

“You gave me much more than that, my lady. You gave me peace and warmth. Far more valuable than pleasure,” he says with a smile, giving me another kiss.

“Well, maybe if you’re back tomorrow, I can offer you something more. I still have my virginity, and I want to give it to you,” I say, biting my lip.

He looks worried as he raises a single eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

“I will never find a better man than you to give it to,” I say.

“Then I would be honored to receive such a gift,” he says with another kiss. “Tomorrow, I will make it special. I promise.”

I smile and bite my lip. “I do not doubt that. You’re already special to me.”

He grins before resting his head against mine. We lay like this for a long time, enjoying each other’s warmth. Then, he gives me one last kiss and a smile. “Until tomorrow then.”

I nod. “Until tomorrow.”

After we part ways, I find myself with Tyma and her friends at the Hookah Lounge, telling her every little detail. “That’s great. I’m glad you got a client. Just don’t get your heart wrapped in him. These men can be quite fickle and often cruel. Usually, it’s always the ones who seem so good and pure that have such cruelty to them.”

“I don’t think he has an ounce of cruelty to him. He’s absolutely perfect,” I say. “I hope he is,” she says with a careful smile.

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The Bound Soul: Chapter 6

I feel sick to my stomach worrying about what I’m about to do tonight. Am I seriously about to let a man use my mouth in order to make some more coin? My father was mad about me stealing. I can’t imagine what he’d think of this…

As I start my shift at the Brothel, still waiting tables and cleaning dirty mugs, I watch each and every man, wondering who’ll be the one that I will have to serve. I hope it’s not the balding fat elf with drooping ears. Nor the disgusting drunk slob that has half of his meal all down his tunic. And then there’s the tall skinny man missing half his teeth. And what of the short, stubby elf with a gimp?

All of them disgust me. I’m going to have to service one of them. Another man comes in under a hood of a cloak. His face is covered in the shadow. He walks up to Madame and they chat for a bit, her nodding before her eyes slide across the room, landing on me. A smile crosses her lips. She says something to the man before he nods and walks upstairs.

Madame glides across the room to me. “Ready to make more coin?”

I nod reluctantly. She smiles. “Don’t be so reluctant. You’ll want him to enjoy it so he asks for you again. Now come. This man is willing to pay well just for a mouth.”

I follow her upstairs and she stops us right outside the door. “All you have to do is savor his cock like a tasty treat. Listen to the sounds he makes. That will let you know how he likes it. And for the sake of King Volodar, do not let your teeth touch his cock. No man likes that.”

I nod, my stomach tightening. Am I seriously about to do this?

She nods towards the door. “Now go inside; show him what heaven is like and you’ll earn a nice bag of coin.”

I nod, take a deep breath, and let it out. I tell myself, it’s just an act. No more, no less. It’s now or never. I steel myself and walk in. The man has his back to me as he looks out the window. He turns to me, taking off his cowl. His face is more than pleasant. He’s got a beard and mustache with long black hair. His eyes shimmer bright blue. He swallows and steps forward. “You… You’re quite beautiful.”

“Thank you, sir,” I say.

He nods, closing the gap between us. His hand gently brushes up against my face. “Such beautiful eyes. You have a lot of mana inside you. What is someone with as much potential as you doing in a place like this?”

“I… I don’t have many choices. I can’t afford a permit nor can I afford tuition in the Academy,” I say.

“Have you ever thought about joining the Church of the Light? You can learn the Divine use of healing. With your potential, you’d be one of the greatest healers we’ve seen,” he says. I shake my head. I do not want to be shackled to them. Or anyone else. “That’s a shame. The church could use someone of your potential. You’d do a lot of good.”

“Are you with the church?” I ask.

He nods. “Yes. Technically, I am not supposed to be here, but a man has needs. I’m a Paladin.”

“Are people of the church not supposed to have sex?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “In our service to the Light, we are prohibited from another’s love. Our heart belongs to our duty.”

I nod. “I understand, but you wish for the pleasure of the flesh?”

“It is my great weakness. I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. I need to feel the love of a woman,” he says.

“Then, let me help you with that,” I say as I reach for his belt buckle. This man is someone I can serve. Even though he’s here, seeking the pleasure of my mouth, he seems to be kind and noble. We all have our flaws and I can understand this. I wouldn’t be able to be a part of a church that forsakes love. My heart is too big.

I slowly sink to my knees as I undo his trousers and let them fall to the floor. Standing before me is an enormous cock, thick and wrapped in veins. I look up into the man’s eyes, his beautiful, luminescent, sapphire eyes. Like two gems shining in the moonlight. I wrap my hand around him and feel the pulse of life inside him. I stroke his massive pillar of a cock and feel him shudder.

I do what feels right, bringing my lips to the head of his dick and kissing it softly. He lets out a sigh of release. Then I lick the bottom of his cock all the way to the tip. It doesn’t taste so bad. Not bad at all. His eyes connect with mine as he bites his lip while my tongue swirls around his tip. He gasps as I take the head in my mouth and close my lips around it.

He moans out as I suck on his dick. This isn’t so bad. Not bad at all. It feels like I have this power over him. To make him feel so good with just my mouth. Slowly, I stroke his shaft as I lick and suck on the tip. “That feels so good.”

His hand runs through my hair, gently stroking it. I take more of his dick inside my mouth and have to stretch my mouth open in order to do so. His cock seems to pulse with life as I lick it. “Oh, for the love of the Light, you are so beautiful. Holy Divine Light, that feels good. Don’t stop.”

I pick up the pace and worship his cock as if it were the holy scepter of his church. He moans and groans, his hand gripping my hair as he rocks his hips back and forth. “I’m so close.”

Does that mean… “Oh, holy Light!”

He holds my head as his cock bursts into my mouth, spewing his seed on my tongue. I quickly swallow it as more sprays into my mouth. Honestly, it isn’t all that bad. It tastes sweeter than I thought it would. He finally releases my head and stumbles back onto the bed. “That was the best I’ve ever had. Come, sit with me.”

I do as he asks and lie down next to him. He wraps his arm around me. “What is your name?”

“Lura, sir,” I say.

He rolls on his side to look at me. “I’d like to see you again, Lura. Will you be here tomorrow night?”

I nod, and that earns a smile. “Well, then I’ll be back tomorrow to see you once again. My name is Orym, by the way.”

“It was nice to meet you, Orym. This was my first time and I’m glad it was with you,” I say.

He smiles. “I’m glad I could be your first. I promise, whenever you’re with me, I will make sure it is pleasant for the both of us.”

“I would very much like that,” I say.

He leans in and kisses me on the lips, making my face burn hot. Then he breaks away and gets up, pulling up his pants and buckling them up. “Well, I have to be off before someone notices where I am. I cannot wait to see you again tomorrow, Lura. You are a sweet girl. I hope maybe one day you change your mind about the church.”

I smile at him. “Maybe you can help convince me.”

He grins. “I just might have to.”

Then he leaves, putting his cowl back over to cover his face. That was far better than I ever expected. I think I am in love, but at the same time, it does not feel as I imagined it. He doesn’t look like the man of my dreams, but he is kind and nice.

A moment later, Madame comes in with a wide smile. “I don’t know what you did, child, but you have really outdone yourself. Especially for your first time. He wants to see you again tomorrow. Here. You’ve earned this.”

She hands me a pouch of coins. The biggest pouch I’ve ever held in my entire life. I look in it and find it is all silver. My eyes go wide as I look up at her and, before I know it, I hug her once more. “Thank you so much!” “Don’t thank me, you earned it,” she says, patting my head.

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The Bound Soul: Chapter 5

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Warm sunlight breaks through from the balcony as I lay in the arms of a man with pure golden hair and eyes as blue as the sky. He holds me with tender care, nuzzling my bare neck. I smile with pure happiness. His hardness presses up against me and I wiggle my hips against him, but we’re interrupted as children rush in. Our children. I quickly pull the blankets over us to cover ourselves as our children convince us to get out of bed for the day. My husband sighs with a hint of frustration, but I can tell deep down he’s never been happier. He convinces them to go hide and he’ll come out and find them. They rush out in glee before my devilish husband puts me on my back with a grin brighter than the sun.

“You are so bad,” I say as I drag my hand down his perfectly sculpted chest. He grabs my legs and lifts them on top of his shoulders before…

I shoot up from my cot and groan as I realize it was all just a dream. That man… he feels so familiar, but I’ve never met him before. The golden-haired mysterious man of my dreams. Perfect in nearly every way. A man I feel like I’ve known my whole life and yet, he only exists in my dreams.

Work at the Brothel isn’t easy. I’m expected to get them as drunk as possible so they spend as much coin as possible, but the drunker a man gets the more handsy and pig-headed he is. I feel so disgusted every night after work. I have to take a bath just to wash the stain of their eyes off me. Not only that, but I’m constantly pushed and pressured to be one of Madame Faralene’s women of pleasure. To sell the pleasure of my body to these perverted men. There is no way in all the hells I would ever do that.

To make things even more difficult, I have seemed to get off on the wrong side of one of Madame Faralene’s best “workers,” if you can call what she does as work. Zaralraden, a golden-haired, blue-eyed falcon of a woman, seems to dislike me. She goes out of her way to get under my skin. The other day she hip-bumped me, causing me to nearly spill all of my drinks. Of course, I may have used a little of this magic I secretly learned to prevent losing the drinks. I think I may have angered her when I laughed, hearing her complain about her holy client. A High Father or whatever. The way she described him was rather funny, but it’s clear she despises the man and the things she says he’s making her do cause me to shudder. Somehow, it doesn’t surprise me that these holy men of the church or whatever are here tossing coin around to satiate their unholy desires. Hypocrites, all of them. It is why I will never trust the religious type.

But even so, Zaralraden is the worst kind of evil. The conniving, spiteful kind. If she wasn’t bad enough, the attention I get from men is not the welcomed kind. I’m not talking about just the stares they give me, but the things they say to me are absolutely disgusting. I thought Phraan was bad. He definitely is bad, but some of these men can give him a run for his coin. Some of the things they say they want to do to me makes me want to take a bath and wash the filth of their words off my skin. Part of me is afraid Madame will try to convince me to take up one of their offers. As if I would ever consider it, but I’ve heard things from the other girls. A lot of girls start out like me, but no one stays a barmaid. Soon, an offer will be made that is too tempting to decline.

Still, there is no way in hell I will ever consider doing anything with these pricks. I’d rather starve. Hell, even joining the church would be better. I will keep my dignity and that is that.

“Hey, new girl… I need a refill!” one particularly disgusting man says. His ears are pierced all the way up to the point and he’s got a gut that can’t be contained by any shirt. I reluctantly bring over a pitcher of ale and take his cup. But when I feel his hand crawl up my leg, I can’t take it. I grab the mug and wash his face with the ale. “You filthy bitch!”

He immediately flings the chair back as he gets to his feet and grabs me by the hair, but his hand is caught before it strikes by the bouncer, a rather large beefy man with dark skin and black hair named Janyris. “Don’t touch the girls.”

He lets go of my hair and yanks his hand free only when Janyris lets go. “Get a hold of your women.”

I quickly walk away, but not before Madame has a word. “Lura, what do you think you’re doing?”

“He grabbed my arse,” I say.

“And your point? You do realize this is a brothel, right?” she says, hand on hip with the other pointing a finger at me. “The men who come in here will get handsy. Can you handle that, or will I have to find someone else who can? Need I remind you that I saved you from those men on the street? I can just as easily put you back on those streets for all the men to have at you.”

I hold my tongue in fear she’ll do just that. I need to get out of this place. I have to find out who bought my parents, along with my uncle and his crew. I will set them free one way or another. “Good, now get back to work.”

She storms off and Zaralraden snickers. “Be a good girl, you stupid sewage rat.”

I hate that woman!

I’ve worked long enough at the brothel to earn some pocket coin. I’d have more if I didn’t have to pay such high rent to Madame for room and board. Just for a room I have to share with seven other girls. Fortunately, none of them are like Zaralraden. Nambra, a blonde-haired elf is rather nice and polite. Alisenda, a taller brunette who’ll take no nonsense. Her daughter, Caeninita, who’s rather shy. Maenirin, a red-haired girl with pale skin who has a loud mouth. Maenalasa, a beautiful brunette with the charm of one of the best of merchants. She has men wrapped around her finger. Gisrae, who’s aggressive and can be rather violent. Men who cross her learn the hard way that she can give as good as she takes. And lastly, a woman I’ve become rather close with named Tyma. She’s a dark-skinned woman with dim blue eyes, which means she doesn’t have an ounce of magic in her. Her hair is black, but she tends to wear golden wigs to attract men’s attention. We share a bunk and she’s easy to get along with. She’s really taken me under her wing.

We spend quite a bit of time together whenever we’re able to. She seems to know the ins and outs of not just the Brothel, but Low Town itself, and it seems like she’s got friends everywhere. I’m always following her around town during our off time and meeting new people. It doesn’t hurt that she’s one of Madame’s best girls, rather tied with Zaralraden. It also helps that the two hate each other. You know what they say about the enemy of your enemy. Although I do find it weird that she still stays here, considering how much coin she brings in.

After a long night of work, I follow her out to a hookah lounge where we find a booth with her friends, just a few men and women who are stuck here just like the rest of us. Irevhur, a short, black-haired man with dark skin who works the docks doing hard work. Zharrish, a woman with deep chocolate skin that spends her days in the hot kitchens baking. She’s a rather plump woman, and it’s easy to see why her baking is by far bested by no one else. I’d be just as plump if I had half the skills with an oven. Of course, having skill is one thing, but having the food to bake with is another. Thankfully, she loves to treat us with some leftovers and mistakes.

It’s been several cycles since I started working at the Brothel. Still waiting tables and cleaning dishes. Men get handsy, but I’ve gotten better at ignoring them.

For the most part, I’ve kept my head down and made what little money I can. I’ve been saving up little by little, and hopefully one day I’ll have enough to track down my parents and buy back their freedom.

I just wish I could make more without offering my body up for pleasure to make some coin, but I’m near to the point of caving. At this rate, it will take me a human lifetime to save up enough coin to buy them back. However, I’ve seen how much she pays the girls who are in high demand. It’d only take a season or two to save up the kind of money I’d need to buy my parents’ freedom. Of course, I’ll need a lot more if I want to buy my uncle and his gang’s freedom. But I can’t think about them right now, as hard as that is. I need to worry about my parents first. I can’t let my dignity impede saving my family. I’ll do anything to get my parents their freedom. Especially since it’s my fault they were sold into slavery.

One night after closing, I talk to madame. She’s busy, so she hardly gives me the time. “I was wondering… How much exactly does it pay to sleep with men?”

She stops what she’s doing to look up at me with an eyebrow raised. “What’s the change in heart?”

“My family was sold into slavery and I’m saving to buy their freedom,” I say honestly.

Her hardened face seems to soften. “I can understand that. It’s noble and selfless. Well, there are different rates. Pleasing a man doesn’t always have to be with your cunt. You see, you can use your mouth or your arse. Of course, letting a man fuck your arse isn’t always pleasant. It can be very pleasant with a man who knows what he’s doing, but not with men who hang out in brothels. They tend to be a bit rough. Of course, the arse also prevents pregnancy. But we have other ways of preventing pregnancy. As long as you drink a tonic before sex, you will not get pregnant. It’s not the tastiest, but it does its job. As far as rates go, it depends on what you’re willing to do and your clients. Obviously, I pay out different rates for different methods of pleasing a man, or a woman sometimes. To use your mouth is the lowest rate. Your cunt is in the mid-range because it can be pleasant. However, if you’re a virgin, you can earn a lot to lose it. Men seem to prefer virgins and will pay a hefty rate. Your arse is the highest since it is usually not very pleasant and quite a few men seem to prefer it for whatever reason.”

“Do I get to choose the men?” I ask.

“Not being as new as you are. Eventually, when you get repeat clients who will request you, you’ll have more freedom to turn men down, but when you start, you must take what you can get. However, I don’t see it being a problem for you. You’re very beautiful. You have that petite little nose, a delicate chin, and plush, soft cheeks with lush lips that men seem to drool over. You’ll surely get a long line of men who’ll seek you out if you know how to please them,” she says, her eyes drifting down my body.

“I’ll do it, but I want my virginity to remain intact,” I say.

“So, meaning you’ll only please with your mouth? What about your little tush?” she asks.

“For now, let’s just do the mouth,” I say.

She nods. “I’ll respect that. I want you to know that this is a safe place. Unlike some brothels, we protect our women. I know firsthand what it is like since I used to be in your shoes. I worked for a man who didn’t care at all what happened to the girls as long as he got paid his coin. I endured much abuse at the hands of many men. I won’t let that happen to you. Okay?”

I nod, and she seems really sincere. “I appreciate that.”

She smiles. “Tonight. I’ll have you wet your feet with just one man, and if you feel that it’s something you’d like to continue doing, then I’ll start bringing you as many customers as you’re feel comfortable with.”

I nod. “Thank you, Madame. And thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I’m in your debt. You’ve helped me out so much.”

“It is nothing, child. I feel a responsibility to women like you and me. We are not that different. My family was also taken and sold. Unfortunately, they died before I could ever set them free. I hope you do not have to endure the same fate,” she says. Before I can stop myself, I hug her. She stiffens up at first, but gently pats my head, welcoming my embrace.

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The Bound Soul: Chapter 4

The men have twisted smiles with eyes that are filled with lust as they crowd me. I step back before hitting the wall as the men tease me.

“Oh, little girl, we’re going to play a fun little game together,” he says as his friends all laugh. I swallow the dread in my throat as I freeze. I can’t find words. I want to scream at them. To tell them to leave me alone, but I can’t even breathe.

“Oh, Cele, there you are. I’ve been looking all over for you,” A raven-haired, busty woman says as she pushes the men aside and helps me up. She glares at the men. “Enthein, did you forget the last time you tried to hurt one of my girls?”

The eyes of the man who was terrorizing me go wide. “Sorry, Madame Faralene, I didn’t realize this one was yours. Forgive me.”

“I will this time, now off with you lot,” she says as she whisks me away into a nearby building. “What in the bloody hells are you doing out here all alone?”

“I… I was trying to find someplace to stay for the night.”

“Well, you almost found out what it’s like to be at the mercy of scoundrels. Thank goodness I was around. Now, come dear, let’s get you all cleaned up and a nice hot meal.” She doesn’t wait, pulling me in with her. My jaw drops as we enter a room full of people. Men sitting around tables drinking with scantily clad women dancing in their laps. Some are showing off their bosoms and others let men grope them. Disgusting.

I’m being dragged up the stairs into a side room with a wide round table and forced into a chair. They give me a bowl of delicious-smelling stew, and I don’t bother asking questions as I devour every last bite of it. The woman then drags me back to the bathroom, and I’m stripped naked and shoved in a tub of cold water. Another woman comes in and scrubs me. I cling to my delicate parts to keep them hidden from their eyes, but the woman scrubbing me doesn’t care. She just pushes my hands aside and washes my bare breasts. At least what I have for breasts. They look like molehills compared to… What did that man call her? Madame Faralene? She has a bosom that could knock a man out.

After I’m cleaned, I’m pulled out, and the woman dresses me as if I was a child. And not with decent clothes. The same kind as those women downstairs wear. Sheer stockings that only go up to my mid-thigh. Underwear, if you can call it that, that barely covers my bottom and a dress that does nothing to cover my legs. Soon, Madame Faralene comes back and inspects me. “Yes, you’ll do quite nicely.”

“Excuse me? What is going on?” I ask.

“How would you like to earn a lot of coin?” she asks.

“Coin? How much coin?” I say with my attention fully in her hands.

“Oh, more than you’d ever see in your entire lifetime, girl,” she says.

Suspicious, I narrow my eyes. “And what would I have to do to make this money?”

She smiles. “Oh, just wait on a few scoundrels. Let them have a feel or two. Give ‘em a dance. Make them feel desired. You could make a lot more coin if you take them to bed, but I won’t force anyone.”

I think it through and nod. “I’ll do it for now. But once I make enough, I’m done.”

“Fair enough,” she says with a smirk. “Now, let’s put you to work. See the table over there? Go bring em some drinks.”

I nod and head up to the bar, grab three mugs of ale, and head over to the men sitting at the far table in the corner. I place them down on the table and let out a gasp as a hand comes down hard on my bottom. My face turns to pure red as I look over at the elven man, who has a wide grin on his face as he keeps his hand on my arse. I try to brush him off, but he gives it a squeeze. I want to slap him, but I know that I shouldn’t. I pull away and thankfully he lets go as I rush back to the Madame.

“Girl, you’re going to have to do a lot better than that if you want to earn enough coin to get out of here,” she says in a flat tone as I hold myself, covering as much as I can of my exposed skin.

“You need to tempt them. Don’t give them what they want, but let them know you have it,” she says in a sultry manner. “There is far worse you could do than this line of work.” I sigh as I get back to work, serving drinks and enduring hands that are far too friendly.

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The Bound Soul Chapter 1

Another day in Tent City…

I let out a silent sigh as I climb up the wall, moving my hands and feet to the little divots and indents that act like a ladder for me to climb. I finally reach a narrow, cracked hole in the wall wide enough for me to squeeze through.

With a hood covering my face, I weave through the crowd of elves of Low Town as I head through the sandy main street on my way to the market. Every now and again, I’ll bump into someone and, purely by coincidence, my pocket becomes a little heavier after my clumsiness. I do not look at what is in my pocket, I just continue while the weight of my pocket grows.

I reach the market and use the little trick I learned to move objects from a distance. Of course, it’s magic, but it’s not enough to be traced by the enforcers. Just a trickle. My uncle taught it to me among other things. As Zeeno scrambles to pick up his fruit that, for some strange reason, falls from his stall, I sneak underneath and start piling my bag full of his fruit.

He calls his Stall, Zeeno’s Ripe Fruits and Vegetables, ripe being an understatement. Most are squishy and don’t smell right. Suddenly, Zeno’s thick, chubby, enormous nose and face with shabby eyebrows and rotting teeth ducks under the stall. My eyes go wide and I drop the tazzle fruit in my hand. His long, pointy, elven ears seem to droop on him. “Hey! You lousy kid. Give me those!”

I bolt out of there with the bag of fruit, darting down alleyways and zipping through the people. “You bastard! Wait until I get my hands on you.”

Even as I run away, my pocket still grows heavier as I bump into people. I bolt down an alleyway, only to cut back the opposite way. I climb up a pillar and jump on a ledge. Then I jump from building to building. I leap a distance longer than I’m comfortable with and barely grab the ledge, but I slip and hit the wooden balcony beneath it with a groan. The air feels like it’s been knocked out of my lungs. I roll onto my hands and knees, pushing myself forward as I scramble back up to the roof. A little dazed, but okay.

I jump and land on a cart of hay before sliding down and sprinting to the gap. I make it through and climb down the wall. Now that I’m in Tent City, I relax a bit and walk casually through the pathways between tents. I slip through Glimmer Alley, where all the glimmer zombies beg and plead for another hit of that poison. They look like skeletons with splotchy skin clinging to their bones.

After zig-zagging through the streets and alleys between tents, I slip into our tent. Father’s tinkering with some contraption he salvaged. He can get a few sand pieces for the parts, but those don’t last. Can’t even buy rotten fruit with that. That’s the problem; everything is overpriced. My mother is grounding up some kind of moss. Most people come to her for the tonics and tinctures she makes with what little herbs she can find. Most of the time, she trades her tinctures for other goods and that’s usually how we eat. But not tonight.

“You’ll never guess what I got!” I open my bag and I want to cry. All my fruit is smashed.

“What’s that, hun?” mother asks as she finally looks up.

“My fruit. It’s… It’s smashed. It’s all mushy,” I say as tears flood my cheeks.

“Here, let me take a look,” she says and I hand her the bag.

“Oh, we can make a nice little jam with that, and since tomorrow is your special day, we can use the jam to make a little something nice to celebrate with. You’ll finally be an adult tomorrow,” my mother says as she takes the smashed fruit out, dumping it into a wooden bowl.

“How did you pay for the fruit, Lura?” my father asks as he looks up at me with his gaunt face. His cheeks seem to cave into his face, and that truly saddens me. My family and I have been living in this arsehole slum for my entire life, all twenty-nine cycles of it so far. I’m a day short of becoming an adult. “Zeno was generous today.”

“Lura, I have told you, we do not steal. It is not our way. We’re better than that,” my father says as he stands up and has to lean on the table to remain on his feet.

“Look at you, father, you can barely stand because of hunger. How is it fair that we have to scrap for food while the nobles fatten themselves? They let food go to waste while elves down here die of hunger. They impose their stupid laws and prohibit the poor from using magic all to keep us down. We slave and do their work while they reap all the benefits. Why shouldn’t I steal?”

“Because it would make us no better than them,” he says, adjusting his broken glasses. “We may live in the slums now, but we come from the honorable Syllana bloodline. A true saint.”

“Honor doesn’t put food in our bellies!” I snap back.

He sighs and rubs his forehead. “No, but hard work does.”

“Not when you only get paid with a few sand pieces that are worth as much as the sand it takes to make them. We can’t even afford the crumbs from the wealthy nobles’ scraps. I’m so sick of living this way!” I shout. Then I see the looks on their faces and realize I have gone too far. A sigh escapes my lips. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not your fault. Life is so unfair.”

He gives a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He hobbles over to me and wraps me in a warm hug. “I know, my child. I know. But I couldn’t bear it if you got caught. The cost is too high. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you were put in chains and sold as a slave.”

“That is another thing that makes little sense. How is it justified to be sold into slavery for stealing something that only costs less than a copper?” I ask.

My father shrugs. “I do not know, my dear. I don’t make the laws. But I suspect it’s because of how bad things have gotten. The slums have only grown since the Council of Nine has taken over the rule of our city. Ever since our great King Volodar Morric has left the throne, things have slowly grown worse.”

“Why did he do it? Why did he walk away?” I ask.

My father only shrugs. “I don’t know, my child.”

“Well, I just came to drop off the fruit. I gotta run,” I say, and bolt out before my parents can argue.

I still hear my father shouting. “You better not be heading off to Lethvelion. Your uncle isn’t a good influence!”

I walk out of the tent to run into Sister Damaris, who pays us regular visits. “Lura…”

“Sorry, sister, can’t stay,” I say as I push past her, rushing through the lines of tents, heading to the underpass of the bridge to the gate to the Under City. That’s where I find a tunnel down to the path to the underground sewers. Of course, it stinks like dung and piss, but what would you expect from the sewers? Traveling below, I head through a maze of corridors and passageways. I find a secluded place and use a bit of magic Uncle Leth taught me, summoning a small ball of faint blue light. Lethvelion says that as long as I only use a trickle of magic, it can’t be detected. It’s illegal to use magic without a permit, and the only people who can afford permits are rich nobles. Of course, you could always borrow the money, but the banks would never lend money to tent trash like me. Maybe someone in Mid Town or even Low Town with a reputable line of work. Or someone who works for the Golden High Elf Trading Company. Although I hear they give scholarships to those with exceptional potential. But I suppose I’m not one of them.

I empty out my pockets, and I find a nice catch. Aside from the junk, which contained some kind of letter, a torn piece of parchment that looks like it came from a book, a vial of something dark, and some kind of token, I got a nice stash of jewelry and some coins. A little ruby, some silver coins, plenty of copper, and even a golden crown. There’s a nice little pearl bracelet, but I’m drawn to a beautiful golden ring with a bright, glimmering sapphire. It feels like it calls to me. I can’t tear my eyes away from the sea of glimmering blue within the sapphire. A clatter in the distance pulls me out of it. I shake my head and stuff everything inside my pocket besides my new ring. It looks perfect on my finger. Feels even better. As soon as I put it on, it feels like a surge of energy went through me. With a bit of magic I’ve learned here and there from Uncle Lev, I make the ring go invisible. No one will ever know it’s there.

I did quite well if I say so myself. I take a better look at the vial of dark liquid. Wonder what it could be… I put it in my pocket with another invisibility spell. Got to be careful using that too often. What about this letter? I open it and read what’s inside. It’s a letter from a man named Ba’theas Keenreaver addressed to Iolas Paynore of the Golden High Elf Trading Company. Sounds like he’s trying to bribe the man. I also unravel the parchment and it has some cryptic meaning. It reads as follows.

A hidden secret lies in a list at the back of this book.

That’s odd. Obviously, this note is useless without the book. I toss it aside. I pocket the letter and make my way through a maze of tunnels I know all too well until I reach my destination, a place we call The Gallows, the underground city.

Down a corridor lies an iron door. I knock once, then twice, then once, and wait a second before knocking three more times. The narrow sliding window shoots open. “Oh, it’s you, Little Sparrow, the tinkerer’s daughter.”

The sliding little window closes, and the door opens to the sight of a large, bald elf with pointy ears that have grown past his head. He’s got a gruff, long, black beard with a mustache to match. His arms are as thick as sewage pipes. “Don’t tell me you’ve got more junk to haggle with.”

“Not junk, valuable treasure,” I say with a smile.

“Junk,” Balbys grumbles as he lets me through.

“Someone’s junk is another one’s treasure,” I say.

“You can paint a sandstone gold, but it’s still junk,” he says.

I only shrug and skip by.

The Gallows is not the safest place in town, but it’s by far the only place you can sell stolen goods. It’s the city below the city within a huge open corridor that runs for at least a few elvish miles. There’s only one actual street down the middle with both sides packed with shacks, makeshift hob shops, run-down bars, stalls, and lots of shady alleys. This place makes Tent City look like a haven to live in which is laughable.

I make my way through the merchants, if you can call them that, and weave through my fellow thieves of all sorts. Everything from simple cutpurses to the most cunning burglars. And you can’t forget about the assassins, gangs, mercenary sell swords, and other shady people. Not just elves, either. Some dwarves and humans here and there. I even see an orc and one of the cat people called Kar. Someone’s even trying to sell a jar of sand they claim is from the deep desert with healing properties. What’s even crazier is that someone’s dumb enough to buy it.

I walk into a rundown, shabby bar made of stacked crates, tarps, and rotted wood that rests up against the sewer walls like so many of the other shacks. Inside are a few tables that are also made out of crates that make for stools. Several men and women take up the seats. A game of dice takes up one of the tables. The men are all the same kind, thieves. Not the shadiest bunch; in fact, you could call them honorable thieves if there is such a kind. Of course, I wouldn’t trust them with your coin purse, but they won’t stab you in the back.

“Kid, haven’t you learned anything yet?” the owner of the shack of a bar asks. A woman named Lesvhis that few would cross. She’s got some wrinkles on her copper-toned face, with unkempt, dark-black hair streaked with gray, and wears a constant scowl, but she’s fair. Cross her and you’ll find a dagger in your heart, but she’ll have your back if you show her proper respect.

“Oh, come on, Lesvhis. You know this is the only way in the lower sects to make a decent coin. My family’s got to eat,” I say with a smile.

“Ain’t that the truth! I swear, thieves are becoming younger and younger. Or maybe it’s just that I’m getting older and older. I don’t know anymore. Just don’t sink too deep. You got that?” She waves her finger at me with that constant scowl.

I nod. “I’ll try. If only there were other ways to find work.”

“You sure got that right. The city is too crowded with too many mouths to feed and not enough food and work to go around,” she says, blowing a string of her dark gray hair out of her face.

“It don’t help with the council continuing to lay down all these harsh laws. Why did the King abandon us? He’s the one who led us to succession from the Woodland Realm and he left us in this desert to starve,” I ask.

“Oh, my dear child, it was the king who paid the ultimate price for our freedom from the Woodland Realm with his beloved wife. After she died in the war, he lost himself. But there are those of us still loyal to the rightful king. King Volodar will return someday when he finds himself. Mark my words. That or his children will finally gain the strength to take down the council,” she says.

I nod. “We can all hope, but in the meantime, I got some stuff to sell.”

“Just make sure you know when to walk away, child,” she says as she lets me behind the bar counter and into a back room where there lies another enormous iron door hidden in the sewer wall. She opens it, and I head down the stairs into the darkness.

At the bottom is a light that leads into a big open corridor with several smaller rooms attached. The corridor itself is lined with crates, barrels, and boxes. A big open square is set in the middle with battered couches and chairs. Several men and women lounge around. Some playing dice, while others tell stories and barter over what little they have.

I walk down into the lounge.

“Oh, look who it is, our Little Sparrow,” Larongar says. An older elf with gray, frizzled hair, a shadow of a beard on his face, and plenty of scars. One prominent scar trails from one ear across his nose to the other. He’s never said what caused it.

“Scarface, pleasant to see you too,” I say with an exaggerated smile.

Haerzis, a bald, dark-chocolate skinned half-elf, snorts a laugh. “I’ll never tire of you, girl.”

Larongar shrugs. “She tells it like it is.”

Olaurae slams a cup on the table of crates and smirks at Filarion before he lifts the cup to reveal a pair of dice with snake eyes. “Looks like I win again.”

Filarion stabs his knife into the crate, splintering it. “Damn you, Olaurae, you cheated. I know it! Let me see those dice.”

“For the love of the King, Filarion, I told you to stop doing that!” Zaos says with a glare. The silver-haired elf with a big, fluffy beard is normally even-tempered but can snap when you push him far enough. “This is the fifth crate you’ve sliced open in the last two days. Go replace it and stop ruining our tables.”

“Sorry, tell Olaurae to stop cheating. I don’t know how he does it, but there’s no way he can win five games in a row without cheating,” Filarion grumbles as he gets up, and grabs the crate, tossing it over with the rest of the crates with holes in them and grabbing another.

“He’s got a point, Olaurae, you do cheat. That’s why I’ll never play with you,” Larongar says.

“You never complained before. As I recall, you’ve made quite a bit of coin betting on me to win,” Olaurae says with a grin.

Larongar shrugs. “I’d be a fool not to. But that’s against those foolish sell swords. No one here is stupid enough to bet against you, besides maybe Filarion.”

“Hey!” Filarion scowls. He’s a bit younger than Zaos, Olaurae, Larongar, and even Haerzis. But the scruff on his face makes him look older than he really is. Although he’s much older than me. Of course, age is a complicated issue. The elves who use magic are nearly ageless, but us lowlife sewer rats that aren’t allowed to use it or lack the ability age at a much faster rate. I’ve even heard some elves are over a thousand cycles old. That blows my mind.

The iron door opens and a bunch of boots clap their way down as Lethvelion, Minpireth, Renna, Valindra, Aimar, Akkar, Elas, Dakath, Haryk, Kesefeon, and a man that makes my stomach curdle, Phraan all walk in. Saevel, Erolith, and Delmuth nearly stumble down the stairs carrying three large chests.

“Now that was one hell of a grab,” Haryk says as he collapses on the couch next to Haerzis.

“Those uppity pompous arses didn’t see it coming.”

“What happened?” I ask.

“Don’t worry Little Sparrow, I’ll tell ya all the details if you come by my bed later,” Phraan says as his eyes travel down my body and make me want to take a bath.

“Eww, gross,” Renna says as she and Valindra both pretend to throw up. “Phraan, the girl is young enough to be your granddaughter, ya perv.”

Renna wraps her arm around my shoulder and steers me away from that gross man as she and Valindra head over to another couch and plop down. Minpireth sits on the armrest next to Renna.

“Don’t listen to that perv, and if he tries anything, let me know and I’ll cut his hands off,” she says with a wink.

“I’ll cut his cock off,” Valindra says. Her eyes stab daggers into Phraan as she uses her hands to demonstrate. “Snip, snip.”

“Better be careful, Phraan. The girl is my niece,” Lethvelion says, making Phraan stiffen.

“I was only joking,” Phraan says as his eyes travel over to me with a look that betrays his words. I shudder in disgust.

“Mark my words, Phraan. Make more jokes like that and I’ll cut your tongue out. You may have the inside scoop with the dock schedules, but that won’t stop me from cutting your heart out if you even think about touching my niece,” my uncle says. My father may not like me hanging out with him, but I know he wouldn’t let anything happen to me. I don’t know what caused the rift between the two of them, but my father won’t even talk to Lethvelion.

“I would never,” Phraan says, running a hand through his greasy, long, brown hair. One ear has the tip sliced off. A scar runs down his cheek and runs into his beard, leaving the skin bare.

Lethvelion gives him an icy stare before he turns away and brings his attention to the chests they brought down. My uncle has long, graying-brown hair with a beard to cover his face below the nose. His face is made hard, like many people down here. But there’re crows’ feet at the corner of his eyes from the genuine smiles he occasionally gives. Especially to me. He always knows how to get a laugh out of me.

Valindra braids my hair as my uncle opens the chests to reveal more gold than I’ve ever seen in my entire life. Some gemstones bigger than my fist are scattered amongst the gold coins along with silver chalices, beautiful golden gem necklaces, and other gorgeous trinkets.

“What did I tell you?” Kesefeon says as he claps my uncle on the shoulder. “I knew the Golden Trading Company would bring in several shipments of gold from their sales with the slave shipments from Chillshore. This is only one of many. And all we had to do was row out to the ship and sneak on to grab a few chests.”

“You were right, my friend. I’ll give ya that. You get the first pick of it. Then the rest of you lot can take your share and the rest of it will be put in the coffers. This is cause for a little celebration. Let’s crack open that barrel of wine we stole from that greedy chairman… The one that looks like a weasel. What was his name again?” My uncle asks.

“Eldaerenth Heiris. The weasel face,” Zaos says with a laugh.

“That’s him. Weasel’s face. We’re going to have to get another barrel. The weasel knows excellent wine,” my uncle says with a smirk.

“That he does. I think he gets it from that human town. What’s it called?” Zaos says, scratching his beard.

“Wasn’t it… Lagan berries?” Kesefeon asks, running a hand through his auburn hair.

“It’s Lagoonbury,” I say.

“How do you know?” Kasefeon asks.

“I read it in a book,” I say.

“You can read?” Larongar asks, getting a laugh from the rest. I stick my tongue out at him.

“Of course, she can read, my brother used to be a scholar before… Well before it all changed. I’m sure he’s still got some books hidden away,” my uncle says.

“The Tinkerer was a scholar?” Filarion asks, scratching his head. “I didn’t know that.”

“You don’t know a lot of things, especially how to play dice,” Zaos says.

“I know how to play dice just fine, Olaurie just cheats,” Filarion says with a glare.

Olaurie only shrugs. “And yet you’re the fool who still plays me.”

“You don’t even deny it,” Filarion says with a huff.

“So, did you have luck today, Little Sparrow?” Renna asks as she sharpens her long dagger. She and Valindra are by far the most beautiful elves I’ve ever seen. Both sisters with dark brown hair. Renna has one side braided while the other side hangs loose. Her eyes are as blue as they can get with a dim glow to them. Valindra shares the same eyes and hair color but keeps her hair short. Both have delicate ivory skin. If they didn’t dress like scoundrels with tight bridges, boots that come up to their knees, and dark brown hair, you’d mistake them for nobles or high-born with their smooth, ivory skin, unlike my copper tone. I may have golden hair that most women desire, but my skin is far too dark to get away with being a noble. But I do have vibrantly glowing blue eyes.

That’s what most women dream of, having a fair complexion with pure golden hair and glowing blue eyes that show how much magical potential you have. Of course, having potential is far different from being able to afford a permit to practice magic. But some with deep glowing eyes who are as poor as a sewer rat have been lucky enough to find benefactors willing to pay for their training and permit. Of course, that usually comes at an enormous cost with strings attached. Those poor bastards end up as servants for their benefactors. I probably could find one myself with my deep, glowing blue eyes, but I would never accept being a servant for some snobby noble or high-born.

I empty my pockets onto the crate, everything except the coins, the ring on my finger, and that vial. Valindra’s eyes light up. “Ooh, I’ll give you five silver for that delicate pearl necklace.”

“Seven and a couple coppers and you got yourself a deal,” I say with a smile.

“You make a hard bargain, but I’ll take it,” Valindra says as she pulls out her coin and hands the agreed-upon amount.

“You didn’t get much,” Haerzis says.

“Quality is always better than quantity,” Renna says as she eyes my loot. “Nevertheless, that ruby is a little small, but you made out with that pearl bracelet. I wouldn’t have paid that much for it.’

“Pffft!” Valindra huffs as she holds up her hand, eyeing the bracelet. “You can’t put a price on something so beautiful.”

“In that case, I should’ve asked for more,” I say, and that gets a few good laughs.

“Ya think?” Larongar snorts out a laugh. “If someone is willing to accept after your first offer, your offer was too low.”

“He’s right, I would’ve paid a crown for this. These pearls are authentic. I can tell. I have an eye for these things,” Valindra says with a smirk. “You have no idea the value of authentic pearls. Our city might border the shoreline of the deep Pirate Sea, but few will dive in to get pearls like these. Most creatures down there love to eat elves. And some even go after the creatures big enough to eat us. Nabu only knows what else is down there.”

“She really does,” Renna sighs. Nabu is the god of wisdom and magic. The ancient god that King Volodor followed when he succeeded from the Wood Elves. Of course, that’s long before the Church of the Light moved in with their bizarre religion.

My uncle walks over, picks up the crumpled-up letter, and reads it. “Hmm, this is interesting. We might be able to use this. Looks like some noble lord is bribing the Golden arses.”

“Is that so? Maybe we can blackmail them both,” Larongar says.

“Might be worth a try,” my uncle says with a smile. “We all know nobles always have something to hide. Bloody bastards. You want to know why nobles always stick their noses up?”

Most of us shrug.

“They walk around with sticks up their arses all day,” my uncle says as he mimics a noble walking as if he has a stick up his arse with his nose up in the air. I snort out a laugh with everyone else.

The keg gets opened and they all gather for a drink. My uncle turns to me. “Lura, you should get home before your father decides to come after ya. He already blames me for enough things.”

“Oh, come on. I still have to sell this ruby,” I say. I hold it up and look around. “Any takers?”

My uncle tosses me a gold crown. “That’s for the letter, too. Now get home before it gets dark out.”

I nod with a smile, tossing him the little ruby as I flip up my new gold crown and pocket it with the rest of the coin. “Later suckers. I’ll be back with tomorrow’s grab.”

They all say their farewells. On my way out, I run into Saevel. He’s probably just as young as I am with short brown hair and a smooth ivory baby face, but he’s half a head shorter than me. “Hey, Lura!”

I give him a smile that burns his face red. “I just wanted to say hi. Uh… So… Uh… Hi! You look nice. I like the braid.”

“Thank you, Saevel. That was nice of you to say. You look… Not as shabby as everyone else.” I cringe at my own words. His smile doesn’t even dull. He’s nice, he really is, it’s just. He’s not my type. I wish he were. “Well, I have to be off. It was nice seeing you.”

“Thanks. You too!” he says with a wave as I turn to leave.

I hear him yelp as Delmuth punches him in the arm. “Smooth.”

I snicker on my way up. As I walk into the bar, I flip a silver coin on the bar and say goodbye to Lesvhis, ducking out before she can try to give the coin back.

I head out of the Gallows as Balbys opens the door for me. “Still got your junk?”

“I sold my treasure for a good price,” I say with a smile.

He only shrugs and shuts the door in my face, leaving me with a flat stare. The man has no social skills.

I head down the long sewer corridor as I hear someone else walk out of the Gallows. Paying no mind, I follow the passageway back to the Tent City through the maze of corridors and passageways as the footsteps continue to follow behind me. They seem to pick up speed, as do I. My heart races as I turn to look back, not seeing anyone.

I rush through the sewer and trip over my feet as coins scatter everywhere. A curse escapes my mouth as I rush to pick them all up and stuff them back into my pocket.

“My, my, look what we have here,” that all too familiar, creepy voice says. I look up to see someone I do not want to meet in a dark sewer like this.

Phraan stands over me with a wicked smile. Half his face hides in darkness, making him look even more sinister. “Hello there, Little Sparrow.”

I rush to my feet and run, but his arm wraps around my waist and forces me up against the wall. His breath is as foul as his rotten teeth and drains all the warmth from my face. “Let me go!”

“Oh, why should I do that?” He pins my hands above my head with one hand as the other travels down my stomach, making my skin crawl. “I’ve had my eye on you for a long time now.”

Tears start to fall from my eyes. “Please let me go.”

“Oh no, Little Sparrow. I think not. I’m going to teach you a lesson on becoming a woman,” he says as his fingers reach my pants. I try to squirm and struggle, but he’s too strong.

Suddenly, a shiny blade presses against his throat, and he stiffens. Slowly, he backs away, holding his hands up. “I should slit your throat, you disgusting excuse of a man.”

Renna’s eyes burn with anger and revulsion. I slide down the wall into a sobbing mess on the floor. “You can’t kill me. I have some powerful friends who’ll turn you into a whore slave and make your life a living hell.” says Phraan.

“You think that’ll stop me from gutting you like a fish? I swear to all the gods there are, if I ever see you down here again, I will kill you. And that’ll be a mercy because Lethvelion will want to do much worse when he hears what you tried to do,” she says, pressing the knife harder against his skin. A trickle of blood drips down.

Phraan takes another step back and Renna lowers her blade just a hair. The disgusting man puts his hand up against his neck. “You’ll regret this.”

He then turns heel and walks away. Renna doesn’t put away her blade until the sound of Phraan’s footsteps drifts into nothing. She sheaths her dagger and kneels down beside me and wraps me in her arms. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

I wipe the tears from my eyes and nod. She sits down next to me with her arms around me and we just sit there for a while. After my tears have long dried up, she helps me up and walks with me out of the sewer. As we make it to Tent City, I turn to her and hug her. “Thank you, Renna.”

“Of course. You come to me if that bastard ever tries anything again. Okay?” she says as she lifts my face up to hers. I nod.

“Good, now be careful out here. Don’t take any unnecessary risks. You know just as well as all of us what they do to thieves they catch,” she says, nestling her hand in my hair.

“I know. I’m too good to be caught,” I say with a half-hearted smile.

“That arrogance will get you in trouble, Little Sparrow. Gods, you remind me so much of myself,” she says as she eyes me wearily. It makes me smile widely. “That’s not a good thing. I made so many mistakes. Now go home.”

I sigh, but I give her one more hug and head through the rows of tents before I get to my family.

“Where have you been?” my mother asks.

“Please don’t tell me you’ve been spending time with Lethvelion’s little gang of thieves,” my father says. I don’t answer and just plop down on my cot. “You have, haven’t you? Lura, I’ve told you time and time again, that Lethvelion is trouble. He’s no good.”

“Why do you hate him so much? He’s your brother, after all,” I ask. 

“I don’t hate him, I just… I don’t approve of his lifestyle. How can I with his chosen line of work?” he asks.

“What would you want him to do? Give up and live like you? A poor, raggedy tinkerer? Life isn’t supposed to be this way. We weren’t put here to live in tents and beg for our food. Your brother agrees, and he decides to do something about it instead of sticking his head in the sand and pretending all is well!” I snap at him. I might have crossed the line, but it’s all true.

However, seeing the hurt in my father’s eyes doesn’t make me feel good about it. No. It makes me feel pretty awful. My father takes a deep breath. “Is that what you think? That I have given up?”

I nod. He takes a step closer. “I’m sorry you feel that way, but that is far from the truth. Just because I choose to stay on the right side of the law doesn’t mean I’ve given up. I will continue to help as many people as I can, fixing whatever they need because that is what I feel is the right thing to do. Yes, it might not make a big difference. It won’t change how things are in this city, but it makes a difference in the lives of those I help, and in return, they help us and others. We can make change in this world if we choose to help others and not hurt them. If we decide to lend them our hand instead of taking what’s in their pocket, more people will also help. That is how we make the world a better place, not by thieving.”

“But how can you change anything if the system we live in is broken? It doesn’t matter what we do, we’ll always be poor and segregated from the rest of the city. I admire you for being so kind and good-hearted, but I just don’t agree with you. I just can’t accept this way of life,” I say.

My father’s eyes seem to grow tired. “I hope you never have to learn the weight of the consequences of such actions. They will cost you everything, just like they did with my brother and me.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“I once walked the same path as Lethvelion…”

“You were a thief, too?” I ask as I feel a surge of anger. “You’ve been telling me all this time to stay away from him yet you were a thief, too? You’re such a hypocrite and a liar! I believed you were always this saint, but the truth is, you’re just a quitter.”

“Lura, let me finish,” he says.

“No! I’m done listening to you,” I say as I rush out of the tent. I run through the rows of tents all the way to the wall. I climb up my path of indents, holes, and gaps. Squeeze through the narrow path and then climb up the corner of bricks until I reach a ledge. Lifting myself on top of the ridge, I shimmy over to the overhang that’s out of sight from the guards and sit there, watching the sunset over the shoreline of the Shifting Sands desert to the west between the deep blue sea and the tan shifting sand. Why do things have to be so tough? I hate it here. I hate this city. I hate the Council who rules it. I hate people like Phraan who think they can have whatever they want. I wish I could just leave. Run away and find someplace that I can truly call home. Life is just not fair.

This place is not a home, but a hell. I’ve never felt at home here. I don’t belong here, and I feel so incomplete. I don’t know why, but I feel as if I’m missing a part of myself somewhere and it can’t be found in this shitty city. It’s somewhere out there. I can feel it.

I turn to the north and follow the shoreline with my eyes all the way until it’s lost from sight.

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fantasy, fantasy novel, Fantasy book, Fantasy story, elves, vikings