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The Faithless One's Keep - Part 1 (Fantasy M/F)

Gabardine

Registered User
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May 5, 2013
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(With thanks to Shin Su-eun, who helped me bestir myself to write something. (No slight feat considering how much of a procrastinator I am.))

The Faithless One's Keep

By Gabardine

O'er all the world it wanders
In silent places oft it tarries
Usurped abode of wizard slain
His traitor ward now it carries
To seek more souls to place in chains

Go not within its walls
Flee if you see its walls
Step not within the beastly hall
Or you'll never be seen again

- From 'The Faithless's Hunt' by the Bard Ihakeno.


I.

Kyeli pulled her cloak as tightly around herself as she could as the rain continued to beat down on her. She was a messenger in the service of the Baroness of the Rondwodd Isle and had been tasked to deliver a message with all haste to the Count of Ea'arrol. 'All haste' in this practice meant making her slow, methodical way through the storm-riddled plains and over rivers that were close to bursting.

It was a lucky thing indeed that Elves enjoyed the indomitable vitality that they did, for Kyeli had had no choice but to spend the last week sleeping in caves and larger tree hollows where she could find them and foraging berries from bushes and plucking a few starveling minnows from a stream during a brief respite in the weather. Had she been human, she would have caught her death long ago on such an errand as this one. As it was, with over two hundred years of service running messages over the countryside in weather both fair and foul, there was little doubt that she could master the inhospitable land.

Which wasn't to say that she didn't long for the soft, dry bed in her room back at Castle Rond, but she had another week and a half's journeying at least still before her, which wasn't taking into account the journey back home.

Kyeli bit back a sigh. Another week and a half would see the end of the worst of the rainy months of summer. The sages had predicted it, the Baroness knew it, and she had been sent forth into the deluge regardless because the comfort and convenience of the servile caste was of no concern at all to the nobility.

The messenger shook her head and pushed the thought away. It had always been thus in the 200 years since she'd been assigned this task upon coming of age, and long before by all accounts. Why should it be different now?

The sun would be setting in an hour's time, and she was stuck in the middle of the long-plains which stretched for 70 leagues from the Circle-wood behind her and the barrows beyond. Unless she were to dig a hole and sleep in that, a difficult task to accomplish with bare hands alone, there would be no cover from the rain that showed no sign of easing any time soon.

Or so she thought, for just as she was about to cast her travelling pack down on the grass and try to camp where she stood, she examined the horizon one last time and saw, to her astonishment, something which should not be there. Roughly three leagues away, set atop a small, squat mound, was a keep.

Kyeli had trod this route time and again for centuries and knew full well that there was nothing on these plains, no one lived here nor had anyone ever lived in this barren, flood prone wasteland. There weren't even any trees, the soil was too blighted to allow for them. There was no way that a castle could suddenly have just been erected since the last time she journeyed through these plains three months ago. Add to which, she should have noticed it long before now on the flat, featureless horizon, but she hadn't. It had literally not been there one second and there the next.

For several minutes, Kyeli just stood and stared at it, half suspecting that it was just a trick of the light or perhaps she was even hallucinating, but there it remained, a dark, square keep atop a hill.

Drawing the bow from where it hung on her back beneath her cloak and crouching slightly, Kyeli began to approach the Keep in the same way she typically approached a deer and boar that she hunted in the less barren parts of the country. With a practised swiftness and silence she passed over the darkening landscape, right up to the base of the hill.

There were no banners flying from the battlements of the mystery Keep, nor any signs of habitation. In fact this strange castle didn't even seem to resemble any kind of Elven style that she knew of. There were no graceful curves or carven adornments, it was just a stocky series of grey stones all piled together, almost like an oversized bread oven.

Kyeli walked twice around its base, and the more she examined it, the more the signs of desertion became apparent. The windows were, to a one, smashed in. Moss and ivy grew up the length of the walls, fallen stones from the battlements lay around the base of the keep and the bottom of the hill, and the main gate was rotten and barely hanging on to its hinges.

This was a mystery as intriguing as it was inexplicable, but in the short term this place represented a Heaven-sent shelter from the rain. Slipping through the gate, she moved into a musty-smelling, almost lightless but nonetheless dry hall.

Feeling her way around a mouldy, cobweb strewn table and stepping over fallen chairs, Kyeli found herself a reasonably clean spot in a corner well away from any of the broken windows through which the relentless rain poured in and, setting her pack and bow down on the stone floor, she sat down, shrugging off her cloak and kicking off her leather boots which she then shook the water out of. She ran her gloved hands through her long, blond hair, shaking out as best she could the moisture that had passed almost unhindered through her old, moth-eaten hood.

Certain that the area was deserted and preferring not to sleep in wet clothes, Kyeli disrobed utterly, laying her clothes out on the ground before leaning back against the wall and stretching her legs out, resting a sheathed knife on her lap and one hand on the hilt, just in case. The air in the hall was cold, but tolerable, and feeling as refreshed as was possible on that wretched day, Kyeli closed her eyes and, with some effort on the hard floor, drifted off to sleep.

Tomorrow, she told herself, she would properly explore this strange place that she had stumbled upon; whatever message the Count in Ea'arrol awaited could surely stand to be delayed by a few hours.

II.

Things were different when she woke up.

Bright sunlight poured through the windows and the cold air of the night before had become warm and worthy of the height of summer. The sound of the pouring rain outside had been replaced by birdsong and the swaying of summer leaves on the trees in a gentle wind,.

'But there were no trees on this nameless plane', Kyeli thought, 'she must be mishearing that.'

Another thing that was different was that her clothes were completely dry, and smelling them she found they were as fresh as if they'd just been washed. Her pack was also dry, as was everything inside, which made no sense considering it was an ancient bag with more than a few holes.

Standing up quickly, Kyeli noticed something else peculiar; there were none of the aches that one would expect from sleeping against a stone surface. Kyeli had, long ago, learned to ignore the worst of such pain, but there was no banishing it entirely, but that morning she felt incongruously fresh and energized.

“What is going on?” She whispered to herself, looking around the hall which was now illuminated in the daylight. The furniture was still strewn about the floor, cobwebs still clung to everything and there were still no signs of habitation, certainly no signs that anyone had been in here overnight and tampered with her clothes or her gear.

Quickly redressing, but leaving her cloak and boots on the floor, Kyeli moved to the wall and, finding makeshift hand and footholds in the old, mismatched stone as she went, she climbed up to the closest window and looked outside.

The grey sky and mulchy grass which stretched out as far as the eye could see in all directions was gone, in its place was a sunlit grove of trees that seemed to encircle the entire castle, forming a small forest. That, at least, confirmed that some manner of magic was at work here. This wasn't too much of a surprise to Kyeli as it was the only explanation that made any sense for the sudden arrival of an impossible building which had now suddenly uprooted itself and travelled Gods only knew where whilst she slept. Magic was however banned in the Baroness's county, and those who still practiced it rarely did so for the benefit of the people, though so far nothing untoward had happened to her, quite the opposite in fact.

Climbing back down to the floor, Kyeli took up her bow and slung her small quiver of arrows over her shoulder, she started towards the door, moving slowly and keeping a careful watch about her. As soon as she stepped outside however and felt the gentle wind and sunlight on her face, she couldn't resist letting her guard down to revel in this massive change from what she had endured on the journey so far, and she closed her eyes and tilted her head back towards the sky. That was all the opening that her 'host' required.

An unseen force wrenched the bow from Kyeli's hands and a second later, another lifted the quiver away. Both were flung back into the keep. Before Kyeli could chase after them, the wooden doors closed, seemingly of their own accord.

“Who's there!” She called out, her eyes darting from left to right and finding no one.
“Me.” Came an answer from behind her, but snapping her body around, she still saw no one.

Another unseen force took hold of her wrists and pulled them behind her back. Before Kyeli could start to struggle or protest, she felt a rope begin to weave around her wrists with impossible swiftness. Next she was swiftly, but gently, pushed down to a seated position on the grass and a second rope materialized out of thin air and began to weave around her ankles in a similar fashion.

The shocked Elven messenger pulled against her bonds for a moment, trying not to panic as the realization that she was indeed facing a peril began to demand attention.

“I crave your indulgence.” The voice said again, and before her eyes Kyeli saw a figure begin to appear, again it seemed, out of thin air. This was an Elf like herself, tall and dressed in the raiment of a wizard, with black, slightly unkempt hair falling carelessly down the length of his back.

“I mean you no harm madam.” He said, bowing at the waist. “But experience has taught me that I must take such precautions when guests come to my domain, but I mean no harm to anyone, not even to the assassins and thieves who manage to find their way inside. I swear it on the honour of my land of Gildwarsh.”
“I'm no thief or...” Kyeli began, but the newcomer quickly cut her off.
“I know that, I confess I've watched you since you entered the castle-gateway. None who've come here before have felt so swiftly at ease that they sleep here without hesitation.”

Kyeli averted her gaze and narrowed her eyes, remembering that she'd slept naked, thinking the castle no more than an abandoned ruin.

“You don't bind a guest.” She said finally through slightly clenched teeth after a moment, meeting the gaze of the newcomer once more. “What is it you want of me?”
“I wish nothing nefarious.” The wizard replied, approaching her with his hands spread wide in a placatory gesture. “I sought only to provide succour to a weary traveller. My castle is wont to wander between the world when it must and this realm of my own construction. You must have fought through the deluge for many miles last night ere coming here, and once I was satisfied that you weren't here to do harm, I decided to linger so that you might enjoy a peaceful night and a peaceful morning in turn at least.”

He sat down before her, his hands still extended.
“Well, thank you.” Kyeli said, her voice still cold. “Now kindly untie me and return me to where I came from.”
“I shall, in good time.”
“What is it you want?” Kyeli said, the sternness of her voice faltering a little at just what that answer may be.

The wizard crossed his legs and rested his hands on his knees.
“Would you believe me if I said that after seeing one so lovely come to my door I couldn't bear to simply let her leave and had to meet her face to face?”
“No.” Kyeli replied, and she began to struggle against her bonds again.
“Then I shall be hard-pressed to provide an explanation to satisfy you madam, for that is indeed the truth.”

Kyeli ignored him and pushed herself back further with her feet whilst continuing to try and free herself. The wizard sighed and stood back up.

“Might I know your name at least? My own is Catirn”
“I don't know who you are, how you came here or why you've captured me,” Kyeli said back. “But I'm not fooled by your poor spectacle of politeness. Know this, if you touch me, I will kill you.”

Her captor stared at her for a moment, his arms folded and his face unreadable, then he shrugged and walked slowly towards her.

“An inhospitable guest.” He said, whether to her or himself it was hard to tell. “I wouldn't have thought that just finding out your name would require an interrogation but you force my hand, lady.”

Sitting down, Catirn muttered something in a language that Kyeli didn't understand and in the next moment, one of her own arrows appeared in his hand. With his other hand, he pointed at her legs which raised themselves upward slightly. She tried to move them away but could do nothing.

“Worry not, I shall heed your warning and not touch you... directly.”

With a grin, Catirn turned the arrow in his hand and began to slowly drag the feathered fletchings up the arch of Kyeli's bare left foot. At once her eyes went wide and a startled laugh escaped her lips before she could clamp her jaw shut. She tried once again to pull her feet away but for all that she could feel the tickling sensations on them, she could not move them in any way.

Catirn began to move the feathers almost at random over his captive's small feet, striking at her soles, arches and between and underneath her toes. He could see her lose control more and more with each second but still her mouth was clenched shut.

“It ends the moment you tell me your name.” He said.

Kyeli couldn't quite believe the mad situation playing out, not that she could focus much on absurdities considering the maddening sensations at her feet. Unable to move her legs or hinder Catirn in any way, the tickling on her horribly ticklish feet felt all the worse.

“Kyeli!” She all but shouted at last. “My name is Kyeli!”
At once, Catirn pulled the arrow back. He did not release his numinous hold on her legs however.
“It is my great honour to meet you Kyeli.” He said, bowing his head slightly, to which Kyeli couldn't help but roll her eyes.
“Now then,” He continued. “What is it that brings you so far away from civilization during the rainy season?”
“My orders.”
“Which are...?”
“To deliver a message.”
“What manner of message?”

Kyeli's breathing sped up slightly; as a messenger she was charged not to disclose any details of her messages to anyone but those for whom they were intended. She could however guess what would happen if she withheld an answer from her captor, and given the choice she would have answered him, having no real love for the nobility's secrets. The trouble however was that in this particular instance she had no idea what the message was, by order of the Baroness, it was for the eyes of the Count only.

“Well?”
“I don't know, I'm just the messennnnnn...”

Her sentence collapsed into a giggling fit as Catirn began tormenting her trapped feet with the arrow once again.
“I... ahhhh... I'm not per... not permitted to...” Kyeli's resolve to keep her composure had collapsed, and her sentence fell apart into a fit of ticklish laughter. She fell backwards onto her back, then heaved herself back up and struggled in vain to free her hands with which to then reach her feet, only to fail and fall backwards again.

“Stop it!” She screamed through her laughter.
“Answer the question.” Citirn replied, pausing to let Kyeli catch her breath.
“The damned message is in my pack, back in the Keep. Go read it yourself if you must.” The messenger said between heavy breaths, staring daggers at the wizard all the while.
“I suppose I could, however again, would you believe me if I said I couldn't care less about the message and am just seeking flimsy excuses to, how shall I put this, extract that beautiful laughter of yours?”

The look Kyeli gave him could have frozen the sun.
“You'll pay for this.” She said simply, reigning in the worst of her outrage and mustering what composure she could.
“Pay for what exactly?” Catirn said, quickly drawing the feathers up Kyeli's right sole, earning a hissing half-scream from her. “You're the one who trespassed into my home after all.”
“I meant no harm! You know that! You can't do this to me.”

Citirn sat back and stretched out his arms.
“Tell me something; I can see you're from the servile caste so I'm wondering; when was the last time life proved this interesting for you? When was the last time in all the centuries ere now that you found the intrigue of exploring an abandoned building that by rights should not have been there, and, while I'll concede this is a stretch on my part, when was the last time you laughed so much?”

Kyeli didn't answer, instead keeping her gaze pointing firmly downward. In her mind however she couldn't help but consider the question. She was a young woman, by Elven standards, from a minor house, but she felt sometimes as if she'd been a messenger since the dawn of time. Her vocation, a role she had been all but born into, had comprised her entire life since maturity. The routes she travelled and the hardships she faced on the road were by now so familiar that she barely registered them as she ferried one message after another between the noble houses.

As for laughter, she couldn't even remember, save for the long-distant games of her childhood. The foremost concern of the servile castes was their duty. All else was discouraged, with varying degrees of force.

“I was once a servant wasting the centuries away in the service to a decadent Lord.” Citirn said when Kyeli didn't answer. “Back then I was, I suspect, much like yourself; not even considering the freedoms denied to me or the unjustness of my ordained servitude. It was only when my old master, as craven and lecherous a creature as the world has ever produced...”

“Pot-kettle.” Kyeli interrupted, unable to help herself. Cirtirn stared at her for a moment and she thought he'd resume his assault on her feet but instead he simply shrugged again.

“Not so, trust me if he had you in his power... well I'll spare you the details, but you'd have killed him too if you could. You would have had to for your own sake. In my case, it was when he decided that my sister should 'serve' him in another context than just as that of a chambermaid that I intervened. He seemed so confused by the notion that a servant like myself should try to deny him his will, but inevitably that confusion turned to outrage and then to a lightning bolt aimed at my head. I was quicker and ran him through with a coal poker.”

Citirn pushed out a long breath, the memory was evidently not a pleasant one, assuming it wasn't just something he made up.

“If that was true,” Kyeli said slowly, intrigued despite herself. “You'd have been arrested and executed long ago.”
“True enough. But the wizard in question was a legendary recluse, as luck would have it I had three years before anyone even noticed he was dead, which was all the time I needed to learn enough from his spells to fashion my own sideland realm and shift the tower here. It, uh, suffered some damage in the attempt however as you've seen.”

“And what of his family? Or the castle servants? Or your sister?”
“He had no time for family, and the servants and my sister, my mother and two younger brothers all fled over the ice-shod sea to human lands.”
“What's a human?”
“You've never heard of them?” Cirtirn asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise. “Perhaps this land lies farther west than I realised. Well, there's much I'd be glad to discuss with you about the world and several other subjects; tell me, would you consent to dine with me this evening and spend the night within my domain? You shall not be harmed, you have my word, and if you so desire you may go about your business in the morning.”

Kyeli didn't doubt that this 'request' was nothing of the sort.
“And if I refuse?”
“Then I suppose I should do the decent thing and release you here and now.”
“But you won't.”

Cirtirn smiled slightly and pushed out another long breath.
“I don't think you can know just how much the memory of your beauty and the loveliness of your laughter will haunt me once you leave.”

Kyeli rolled her eyes.
“There, you see? Much as I thought. I know how craven I must seem to you, I know how long centuries in isolation and my usurping of power has worn at the edges of my conscience, and you're right, I won't release you yet. I must attempt to either persuade you to stay here a little longer or else just revel in your presence and the sound of your laughter a little longer.”

Cirtirn spoke another incantation and in the next moment, long, gnarled roots began to push up from the ground, two beside Kyeli's sides, two more closer to her shoulders. Kyeli clenched her eyes shut for a long moment, trying to twist away again but now her entire body, save for her head and neck, were immobile.

Would staying the night really be such a bad thing? She had to wonder. Perhaps he'd do nothing more than converse with her. Perhaps he'd keep his word and release her in the morning. She couldn't deny that she was curious to unravel more of the mystery of this place, and it was tempting to simply agree there and then, and if he did have worse plans then perhaps if she played along she could get to her bow or knife and defend herself, or grab that damned arrow he'd tickled her feet with and drive it into his gut... and yet, if he had simply wished to confine or even rape her, he could have done so already.

Kyeli didn't know at first why she didn't consent to the offer there and then, she had so little experience even of her own mind and body in her sheltered, monotonous life to properly recognize the diminishing fear and growing excitement that hung behind her anger.

“Do it then.” She said, her voice firm despite the involuntary trembling. “Do your worst.”

Cirtirn did just that, and as he began to drag the feathered end of the arrow over her helpless feet again, the roots snuck underneath her shirt, tickling her stomach, sides, ribs and underarms, unhindered by any attempt to hinder them. Kyeli laughed at first but this soon escalated into a shriek; there was, she soon learned, no place where she wasn't absurdly ticklish.

She fought with all her strength to move her body as the maddening sensations grew stronger and stronger. Cirtirn granted her breaks only reluctantly and only for as long as it took her to catch her breath. Each time he stopped, the roots pulled back as well, and each time he started again, they started again in turn.

“Stop it!” She finally forced herself to say through the screaming. “Please stop! This is too much!”
“Like before, it can end when you want it to.”

Kyeli desperately wanted it to end, but each time she was on the verge of acquiescing, she stopped herself. Perhaps she simply couldn't get the words out through the madness that had overwhelmed her mind, perhaps a stubborn pride drove her on through all the torture, or perhaps not.

When Cirtirn stopped for the tenth time to let her recover, and to rest his tiring arm as well, Kyeli's head fell forward and again it was only the enviable vitality of the Elves that kept her conscious. She could still almost still feel the feathers on her feet or the roots dancing beneath her arms and over her ribs and sides.

“If...” She started. “If I... agree to stay here for the night. Will you swear not to tickle me any more?”
“Would you like me to?”

She should have said yes, but like before for reasons she couldn't quite recognise, something in her mind stopped her, she didn't know why, only that she needed this current torment to end now.

“I agree,” She said finally. “I'll stay here for the night.”

And at once, the bonds and roots and numinous force holding her in place vanished, as did Cirtirn himself. Kyeli fell backwards onto the floor in a breathless, sweaty heap and for a long while it was all she could do to lay there, rubbing away the lingering sensations.

“Feel free to look around.” Her host's voice said from above. “I'll return when dinner is prepared.”

To be continued.
 
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