Il’vievlin

  Jalaena, Helvaen

  The long walk in the depths had worn on him. He trudged along the cold stone passages following the chain that linked him to the next slave. At last they came to a great iron door guarded by several il’elethivin warriors. They were inspected, poked, prodded, and at last allowed to pass into the great city of the il’elethivin.

  His eyes absorbed the city as they trudged along the streets. The subdued lighting revealed graceful stone arches and halls that rivaled the fairest cities in the world above; however, the whole effect filled him and the others with gloom and hopelessness, for here they had come to die. Slowly they were led through the city to the holding pens where they stayed only long enough to be roughly cleaned of the filth that had collected on them before being led off to the auction house. He looked ahead; this room was more brightly lit than the others. His eyes took in the scene. The males were both larger than the females and terrified of them, especially a pair of il’elethivin females that stood on a stone platform overlooking the slaves. The younger one shimmered softly against the darkness.

  His eyes wandered away from her, but his mind followed her every movement. Slowly, she drew closer to him.

  A gentle wind blew leaves in a fragrant garden. The wind whispered: Come back to us when you have found the light. Leaves stirred in the halls of his mind as the fragrant air of some long forgotten meadow blew down the shattered hallways. A ripple surged through the broken mind that was Percival. For the first time in some unmeasured time, he focused on remaining sane.

  Helvaen entered the holding area shortly before the slaves. Jalaena looked up as she approached. “Good morning, Mother.”

  “Good morning, Jalaena. How are things looking today?”

  The younger il’elethivin looked at her mother and curled her upper lip. “Apparently the same. The broker fed me some story about a strong human male to distract me.” She growled. “His usefulness may be waning.”

  “Really?” Helvaen looked over at the broker standing at the slave entrance, casting furtive, nervous glances at the two females. “Pity. He’s been one of the best we’ve had for some time.” Her gaze returned to her daughter. “Perhaps you should select the next one.”

  “Perhaps.” The sound of chains caught her attention. “Excuse me, Mother.”

  Helvaen watched as her daughter strode toward the center of the ring. The girl moved with more grace than most of the other il’elethivin. At least her movements are beautiful. I must remember to thank Master Gilim for doing such a good job. She pushed that thought from her mind. That male caused her more trouble than he was worth. Well, maybe not. A lecherous smile caressed her lips momentarily before it disappeared into a hardened expression when the broker approached her and bowed low. “Great Mistress, you honor us with your presence today!”

  “Yes, I do. Now get out of my sight.”

  Jalaena stopped in the center of the ring and affected a probing expression as the new slaves were brought in. Helvaen, looking from the sides of her eyes, nodded slightly. The girl finally seemed to be realizing how lucky she was to be in such a position at such a young age. But she will not be here long, will she? Helvaen returned her attention to the slaves to see what had been brought in while her mind wandered. The high priestess grows more interested in her. Will Jalaena accept an invitation from her? She had to admit to herself, she had mixed feelings over the matter. Jalaena is not a political creature. Her power will only get her so far. Hopefully, it will be far enough. I cannot protect her once she leaves our house.

  “Stupid males! You’ve damaged the merchandise!”

  Helvaen turned in time to see her daughter deal a hard backhanded blow to one of the male il’elethivin slave drivers. “Look what you have done!” Helvaen nodded approvingly as Jalaena grabbed the offending male by the back of his neck and pushed his face close to one of the chained slaves. “A bruise like this can devalue the merchandise! He will need to be healed before sold to receive top price. The cost of healing will come from your profits.”

  A proud smile crossed Helvaen’s face. At least she understands money. And that is power as well. “You.” She pointed to the groveling, offending male. “Follow me to my office. We will discuss the cost to you there.” She nodded curtly to Jalaena. “Finish then report to me.” An evil gleam came to her eyes. “But not too soon.” Her attention focused on the others. “Continue carefully unless you wish to join your friend in repayment to me and my house.”

  The frightened male nodded mutely and followed the slave mistress. After they had gone a collective shudder rippled through the remaining male slavers. Helvaen was known for the types of “payments” she extracted.

  As the males continued to bring in the slaves, Jalaena allowed herself an inward smile. She had picked that male’s thoughts from his mind so easily. He, like so many others of her kind, really enjoyed hurting people whenever it amused him. She suppressed a shudder as she remembered some of the thoughts she picked from his head. He was vile--a boy-lover who enjoyed raping his victims. Well, her mother would show him just what it was like to be repeatedly beaten while the administrator of the pain laughed.

  She returned her conscious and unconscious mind to the slaves being led in. Most were miserable wretches, not worth much on the market and, most likely, not much longer for this existence. A few were relatively healthy with some spirit left. It wouldn’t take long for that spirit to be broken down here.

  He stared at the shimmering light that turned towards him. He reached out to its elusive essence. A wild fury raced through him as the light danced just beyond the edge of his reach. You must find the light. You must bring the light to us. He reached with all his will towards the shimmering essence that held his attention. The shards of his mind groaned and trembled under the strain of his desire. He struggled to hold himself together while the light drew closer to him.

  Suddenly, almost against her will, Jalaena’s attention was drawn to a particular slave. He shuffled along with the rest, resigned and broken like the others. This must be the male the broker spoke of. He wasn’t exaggerating the human’s size I see. She touched him.

  His mind was a wreck of twisted passages. Fragments wandered aimlessly through the corridors brushing against doors. The doors were locked, barred, nailed shut. Some were held shut by piles of stone. And still things could be heard and seen leaking through them: muffled howls, foul liquids, dripping nameless horrors. A deep voice whispered to her. “Touch not the doors, maiden. There are monsters. We do not want them among us.” A child’s eyes glimmered at her for a moment. A sharp sound—cracking wood and screeching metal pierced her. She whirled in his mind and saw a door burst open…the stench and foulness penetrated her instantly. Fighting the need to withdraw, her control, now divided between the slave’s torment and her own body, was slipping. His mind fought the stench; furious forces appeared. An army of worker hands fixed the door with metal, and wood, and bone, and fragments of his mind.

  She found herself and tumbled from his mind. He was staring at her with mismatched eyes, one blue and one green through a shock of black hair plastered to his sweat-stained forehead, a blank look upon his face. Dear goddess what have they done to him?

  He looked at the floor. The light had burned him with its sharp warmth and brilliant glow. His effort to touch her had brought back memories that he would rather forget. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead as nausea filled his gut. He stared sightless at the floor, fighting to keep himself calm. A dull pain began to rise in the back of his head as he fought to hold the shards of himself firmly in the now.

  Jalaena looked at the human sharply. His eyes followed her as she walked around him and made a show of checking him over. “Strong legs. Good shoulders. Straight back.” Fairly attractive. Certainly very large, even for a human. He might clean up well.

  The slave girl appeared with a fresh glass and the bottle of wine at a signal from Jalaena. The il’elethivin woman tested them both for poisons and then poured the wine. She sipped the wine savoring its delicate flavors while her eyes rested upon the human.

  A slave driver came toward her, groveling. “A fine specimen, mistress. Perhaps good enough for the gladiatorial ring.”

  She beckoned to one of the guards and gave an evil, lecherous smile. “Have him cleaned up and then take him to my quarters.” Turning to the slaver she snarled, “Hurry up! You’re keeping me from my amusements with your ineptitude!”

  “Yes, mistress.”

  The slavers rushed to bring in the last slaves and put them in the pens lest her amorous attention focus on one of them. If Helvaen was bad, Jalaena was worse. No male that went into her bedroom was ever seen alive again. Within an hour all slaves were penned, prices haggled, and sales completed. As quickly as was polite, all the male il’elethivin were gone from the holding area. Jalaena allowed herself a quick look around, careful to keep her disgust, shame, and sadness for the fates of the bound hidden. Fortunately for most, they were too weak to be considered worthy for sacrifice and would die quickly from overwork, under-nourishment, and lack of sunlight. Withdrawing into her mind, Jalaena left and walked to her quarters.

  He followed the guard to the proscribed room where he was chained to a pole in the center. Several young slaves busied themselves cleaning him from head to toe, leaving a fine sheen of perfume on his skin before shaving his ratty beard and trimming his hair. He was then lead to another room where he sat on the stone floor.

  The pain throbbed in his head. He had touched the light and she had touched him. She? The light had seemed like a woman—a beautiful woman. But that could not be true because she was gone and there was only this darkness that stared at him. Focus. He closed his eyes and fought his way along the shards of his mind, calming the storm that threatened to overwhelm him. The effort of touching the light had strained the tenuous hold he had on himself.

  Footsteps, a voice whispered. She comes.

  His eyes opened and he stood.

  The guard stood stiffly at attention when Jalaena entered. The slave stood in the center of her greeting room blankly staring into space. He did clean up very nicely. He’s very attractive. Handsome even. She made a deal of looking him over and sniffing loudly before allowing a pleased smile to cross her face. “You clean up well.” The smile faded as she turned and gave the guard a cold look. “Why are you still here?”

  Bowing stiffly, the guard exited quickly. Once outside, he gave a small sigh of relief as he hurried away. At least he would not be on the menu as well.

  After she was sure the guard was gone, Jalaena activated the silence and blindness spells on the walls, ceiling and floors of her apartment. She then placed a shield around the apartment that prevented any sort of magical spying on her or the male. The human stayed quiet, blankness in his expression and eyes. Once finished, she turned to him and waved a hand. The manacles around his wrists and ankles fell open. With another wave, the restraints and attached chains floated away and deposited themselves near the door. Taking another good look at him, she nodded her head. Well the outside looks good. Very good. Too good. Mentally chiding herself, she refocused on the task at hand. We’ll have to see about the inside. “We are safe. Well, as safe as can be expected.” She sat on the floor, crossed her legs, and looked up at him. He almost reaches the ceiling. “You may sit if you wish.”

  His eyes slowly focused on her. After a moment, he sat across from her, copying her motions.

  “What is your name?”

  Silence, then a shrug, “I do not know.”

  Jalaena raised a delicately arched eyebrow. “You don’t know your own name? How long have you been a slave?”

  “I do not know.”

  Intrigued, Jalaena raised a hand to touch his face to better read his thoughts. The speed at which his hand reached out to grasp her wrist surprised and frightened her.

  Stolen story; please report.

  “Do not touch me.” His eyes, mismatched blue and green, stared through her, into her, beyond her. He spoke, but she wondered if he knew to whom he was speaking. The coldness of his voice surpassed that of her mother’s at her worst. When she made no further moves, he released her hand. She studied him more intently. “Why can’t I touch you?”

  He stared into her eyes, always into her eyes. She could almost hear the storm rising in his mind. “Touch is pain. Enough pain,” he said. His eyes lost focus and his voice became strained. “Pain upon pain. Watching the others be punished for me. Watching me be punished for others. Whips and fire. Screams and moans. Music for the called.”

  “The called?”

  “Ice and bone. Flame and flesh. The called ones.”

  Jalaena shuddered. She knew of what he spoke. A glimpse of one as a child was enough to haunt her nightmares for years. Now she understood what he had locked behind those doors. His eyes regained focus and turned to her.

  “Who are you?”

  “Jalaena of House Baenval. You are in my apartment.” The madness comes and goes. His mind may be worse than I thought.

  “Why?”

  “I had you brought here. You intrigued me. I wanted to read you. Will you allow me to hold your hand and look inside you? Contact makes reading people easier.”

  His expression changed to confusion. “I am not a book.”

  She grinned. “For me, some beings are.” Her grin faded and took on a more serious shape. “I would like to know your name. Even if you don’t remember, I may be able to find out.”

  “You can tell me my name?”

  “Maybe.” Jalaena sighed. “I believe your mind has been … damaged or changed by internal or external forces. I can try to read you, but I cannot guarantee I will discover your name.” He held out his hand. Jalaena took it in both of hers and studied it before beginning. “Your hands have been wounded by something edged. Were you a fighter before? The slaver mentioned the gladiator’s ring.”

  “I do not know.”

  Sighing again, she closed her mind to the world around her and touched the surface of his mind, noting it had been severely damaged by something. Curious, she slipped in. She wandered through the maze of what had been a very good man. Touching the pieces of him that floated in the corridors, she followed the faint trails that they offered her. At last she stood before a single door, stone frame, wooden and locked. She touched the lock and felt a hand touch hers, and a voice, a child’s voice, whisper: “We try really hard not to open the doors.”

  She brushed the hand aside and turned the handle. The door opened.

  “There is a price, maiden, for coming here.”

  She entered the room. It was neat, pristine. She smiled. He was not a complete wreck after all.

  He sat patiently, quietly. As she worked, he studied her to remain focused in the here and now. Outwardly, she seemed small and delicate, much like other elethin females he had seen. She was attractive by human standards, but, then again, most elethin were. Long silver hair flowed down her back, a rare color among her people. Her eyes were overly large, even for her people, and were a startling violet. She has beautiful eyes. Perspiration dotted her upper lip and in the space that he could see above and between her breasts. As he watched, the perspiration spread and her face tightened. He stiffened when a piercing pain struck him behind his eyes then disappeared as quickly as it had come. His vision blurred as a memory came to the surface.

  He was looking up at a large man who was smiling down at him as a boy. Light and goodness seemed to shine from the older man. The large man tousled his hair. “Well, Percy, not bad for a first lesson.”

  Pride and happiness swelled in the boy’s chest. “Will I be as good as you someday?”

  The man laughed and clapped him on the back. “Never doubt the course you and the light have chosen. You may even become better than me!”

  The memory faded, but remained where Percival could retrieve it. Percival. That was his name. Percival. It sounded right.

  His attention shifted to the prone woman in front of him. She had collapsed sometime during his memory resurfacing. He watched her quietly until she stirred and sat up. “Percival.”

  “What?”

  “You asked my name. It is Percival.”

  “I know,” she snapped. Jalaena frowned and rubbed a hand across her forehead. “I have a headache.”

  Percival stood, walked behind her, sat down, and began massaging her temples.

  Jalaena sat stiffly for a moment before the motions relaxed her. “You were training to be a paladin?”

  “Perhaps.” He shifted his hands to her neck and shoulders.

  “Mmm, that’s good.” He has marvelous hands. I wonder just how marvelous they are. Her thoughts drifted for a moment following that train. Why am I thinking these things? Chiding herself mentally, she relaxed more fully. She turned over the newly found information on him in her mind, allowing it to be absorbed. The soothing movements of his hands brought her back to reality. “Where did you learn this?”

  “I do not know.”

  Jalaena sighed. He would take some time. Still, she always enjoyed a challenge and at least this would benefit someone. “Why are you doing this?”

  “You were hurting.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “It is the only answer I have.”

  A puzzle wrapped in an enigma wrapped in a riddle. She definitely had her work cut out for her.

  They both sat in silence for a while as he worked. “Why did you do this for me?” he asked.

  A reasonable question. “Why do you ask?”

  “I am a slave. Slaves are for work.” His voice took on the same strained tone as before. “Or pleasure when the pleasure is pain. Blood for the calling.”

  She waited until the tension in his hands relaxed and he resumed the massage. “What do you know of the il’elethivin?”

  He began speaking as if reciting a lesson once learned. “You are an evil and self-serving race that hates the upper world and despises those who live in it.” His hands moved down to her back. “You especially despise the elethin for driving you underground and denying you the surface.“

  “Ok. You know the il’elethivin, but you have a part of the history wrong. We weren’t driven underground so much as left the surface world.” She shifted forward slightly so his hands could better reach her lower back. “And you’re right. We are evil to the core. Or most of us anyway.” She looked at her slender fingers as she wound them through each other. “But, there are a few of us who are not. Life down here is difficult for us. Always hiding how we feel. Always afraid we will be discovered and sacrificed to the Dark Goddess. Or worse.” Her next breath left with a shudder. “I’m beginning to think that can’t be any worse than continuing to live down here and watching the evil and corruption in my people spread. Day after day, pain, betrayal, and humiliation are the rules. It eats at your soul.”

  “Why do you tell me this if it puts you in danger?”

  She twisted and looked him squarely in the eye. “Because I can erase your memory of anything that has occurred here. Because I could easily destroy you if you attempted to betray me.”

  There is strength in the light. “Will you?” he asked.

  “Will I what?”

  “Erase what has happened here.”

  “I should,” she sighed. “But if I expect you to trust me, I have to trust you, do I not?”

  “Yes.” Percival put a hand on his forehead. “How did you do this and how can you erase my memories?”

  Jalaena chewed her lower lip for a moment. Should I tell him? Secrets only remain so if they’re never told. Still, I sense nothing evil about him. Quite the opposite actually. And, if necessary, I can eliminate any knowledge he has of me. “I have certain … abilities not found among my people.”

  Percival looked at her questioningly. “Abilities?”

  She hesitated. “I am a mesnmaja, a mind mage, as well as having the magic of the females of my race,” she confessed after a moment and watched his reaction closely.

  The light has power beyond those around her. “Mind wizards are feared.”

  “Yes, they are. That is why it must remain a secret.”

  He shrugged. “Who would believe me if I told?”

  “True.” She turned her back to him and allowed him to continue with the massage. As he worked, a plan took shape in her head. He is strong and has some training as a warrior, possibly as a paladin. If he is given enough time for his body to heal and grow stronger, and I heal his mind, he can help me survive on the surface. But how much time will this take? Will there be enough before I must leave? She sighed inwardly. Time enough or not, this may be my best chance. “I have a proposal for you.”

  “What?”

  She turned to face him. “I must leave soon. I have inadvertently drawn the attention of the high priestess of the Dark Goddess. The Dark Goddess is evil incarnate.” An involuntary shudder ran through her. “She will call me to serve the Dark Goddess soon and I dare not refuse or I will be exposed for who I am – an il’elethivin who is not. If that happens I will be doomed to either a torturous death, which would be preferable, or centuries of eternal pain and imprisonment, which is most probable. This is where you come in.” She stood and looked down at him. “I have been waiting for someone such as you. The goddess must have heard my prayers and sent you to me. You will help me escape. I will repair your mind and help you escape.”

  “I do not want my mind repaired.”

  The matter-of-fact statement rocked her. “What do you mean, you don’t want your mind repaired?” she asked, stunned.

  “I have some idea of what lies buried. I buried it. If I am this way, it is because I can still live. It is better to forget, to work, to eat, and to sleep the sleep without dreams.”

  “You are the only hope I’ve seen. I cannot make it on my own and I am running out of time.”

  Percival stood and shifted uncomfortably. The newly found memory teased him, badgered him. A thought surfaced – he was supposed to help those who were good and needed help. Or was he? He looked across at the woman and saw her holding her knees to her chest, eyes staring at the floor, hopelessness on her face. A new feeling surfaced – guilt. He was intrigued for a moment. This was a feeling he never had. Or had he? It was not pleasant either way. Still, he could not make it go away any more than he could banish the constant headache.

  A gentle breeze whispered to him. You must do as the light asks. A rumble in his mind shook him back into the world of twisted corridors and hidden horrors. The pain in his head throbbed. The voices pounded him with advice and fears. Percival fought to retain himself in the storm. Slowly he pulled himself together. It was agony.

  “I will help you escape,” Percival said softly.

  “You cannot help me. Not as you are. And I would not cause you pain, if that is what is inside your mind.”

  He shrugged. “I have had pain before. I will have pain again.”

  Sighing, Jalaena looked up at him. “I will see what I can do to repair your mind without causing pain. Maybe I can do enough to help us both.” She stood and paced around the room. “We’ll have to do something about you staying here for a while. Something that will keep prying eyes away from us.” As she walked she appeared to be thinking. She paused, shook her head, then sighed. “That will work but only for a while,” she muttered, continuing her pacing. “There must be something else as well.” Jalaena continued to pace for a bit before stopping and looking at him. “I can let them assume you’re a house pet as well as a gladiator. That way we can spend time together here as well as getting you some training.” Her gaze turned to the front door. “Mother will come for me soon since I left the auction house early.” Violet eyes focused on him. “If we’re to pretend you’re a house pet, Mother will have expected me to have used you.”

  “How?”

  He doesn’t know. Surely someone else has used him for pleasure. “In my bed.” She glanced at the door to her bedroom and found herself blushing slightly. “My skill at illusion is not as good as it should be but it has worked in the past and should work again.” Looking back at him, she let her eyes wander over his large frame. “They will have expected me to be rather … violent.”

  He looked at her. “I have had pain before. I will have pain again.”

  Jalaena snorted. “My illusions do not cause pain. And, despite what other women might have done to you, I don’t agree with that sort of behavior.”

  Confusion crossed his face. “I don’t understand what I am to do.”

  Sighing, she tried to be as delicately blunt as possible. “Anyone who visits will have expected me to use you for my pleasure.”

  “Males are the subservient sex here. They must do as you say.”

  “I won’t force you to do anything you are not willing to do. I realize I’m not particularly attractive or desirable.” For one of the few times in her life, she regretted her appearance. For once, she was attracted enough to someone she wanted to touch her.

  “You are beautiful.”

  Flushing with unexpected pleasure, she shook her head. “No, I’m not. But, thank you for saying so.” She looked at the ground. “My mother is beautiful. She always has men more than willing to bed her. Unlike me.”

  Comprehension came slowly. “You wish to bed me?”

  She glanced at his groin involuntarily and blushed anew. “It’s what everyone expects me to do with you if I let them think you’re a house pet.” The rest of her words came out in a rush. “But, I can cast an illusion to fool anyone who sees you.”

  Chaos swirled through the halls of his mind. Does she want us? “If it was not expected would you want me?”

  Her blush deepened. How do I answer? He has been a slave and might feel I ordered him if I answered truthfully. She looked down at the hands she was involuntarily twisting together. “You’re very attractive, more so than our males.” In more ways than one. The light shines brightly in him. “Under ideal circumstances, yes, I would want to sleep with you.”

  Ripples stirred in the depths of his shattered mind. She wants us. She wants me. Me? She wants Percival. Wants us for what? Why? A bitter wind brushed his heart. Something lost hurt briefly and was gone. She wants us. He blinked once to clear the madness from his vision and looked at her, noticing now the gentle curves of her body, the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. Breathing in the scent of her, he knew in some primitive, untainted place that she was female. Something ancient and wild stirred deep in him and a chill ran across his spine. He felt the rushing strength of the wilderness flowing into his battered mind, a cool balm to sore wounds. A moment of silence stretched until Percival cleared his throat. “I’m not sure I remember how to do that.”

  He doesn’t remember? Do humans need practice? Is that why they have so many children is that they have to practice? Perhaps he can’t. How do I ask him? “Really? I wouldn’t think that would be something you would have to remember.”

  A smile spread across his face, a spring thawing after a long cold winter. “But to do it well does.”

  So he can. That’s good. Wait. What am I thinking? I can’t have sex with him. He’s mentally unstable. I can’t take advantage of that. Sighing, she touched his hand. “As much as I would like to, I don’t think we should. You’re not all here, so to speak, and I don’t want to inadvertently cause any more harm.”

  She does not want us harmed. Why? Slaves are for pain. His vision swam again for a minute. The light protects us the voices whispered. He focused, holding himself to the world. Reaching out, he hesitantly touched her hair.

  Jalaena smiled gently at him and took his hand. “For the illusion to work best you will need to be naked.” Her cheeks flushed slightly. “You can undress in the bathroom or my room if you wish.”

  “Where do you want me to undress?” his voice rumbled.

  The flush spread. “Wherever is most comfortable for you.”

  “Where do you need me to be undressed?”

  “In my room.”

  Percival took her hand and led her to her bedroom. Once there, he began to undress. Slowly. She wants us. Make her want all of us.

  His body became exposed a part at a time. Oh goddess what a chest. Jalaena clenched her hands to keep from running them over the object of her attention.

  After he was completely naked, he looked at her. “Will you need to undress?”

  Why am I so shy suddenly? “Yes.” Trying her best not to look at him, she undressed quickly, then stood awkwardly.

  His hand reached out and pulled her to him, easing them both toward the bed. When she resisted, he said, “Lay with me. There is no need for more if you feel it is not right.”

  “Okay.”