Polinues Marines, the would be mage.

Chapter 31.
Title: Polinues Marines, the would be mage.

Chapter Title & No.: #31. A guardian angel.

Author: Darkling Willow

Pairing: Non.

Rating: NC - 17
Abuse, Anal, Angst, BDSM, Bi, B-Mod, Bond, Death, D/s, H/C, HJ, Humil, Language, M/F, M/M, Minor, N/C, OC, Oral, Preg, Rim, Spank, Violence, Voy, VS, WD, WIP.

Archive: Originals - misc. > Slash-male/male
Feedback: Yes thank you very much. An author can only improve with criticism. Please rate if you do not want to leave a review.

Disclaimer: This is an original work of fiction. Any resemblance of places and characters to actual persons, living or dead, and places is purely coincidental.
The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.

Authors Notes: For review replies, comments and thank you's go to: http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/14530-polinues-marines-the-would-be-mage/
Hey, guys. I'm sorry for the delays, but starting work again took a bit more out of me than I anticipated, so I've been a bit slow lately.
But here it is, a new chapter, and I think I'm getting a bit of a rhythm going juggling work and writing and sleeping.
One question to all of you. Is anyone out there artistically inclined that would be willing to make pictures of some of the characters for me? I can't pay, but I'd love to see some pictures of my boys. Let me know through the forum or reviews. And please review. :)

Summary: Once again Leyjen gets himself into trouble, but who is there to save him this time?

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Chapter 31. A guardian angel.

Leyjen bit down on his sleeve hard enough to make his jaw hurt, his hips bruising on the edge of the desk, Tisék’s fingers digging deep welts into his back and shoulder.

Tisék moaned breathily as he slammed into Leyjen’s tight ass, his soft belly slapping heavily against Leyjen’s back, the tremble of the alcohol in his system perceptable through his violent hands.
Leyjen gritted his teeth, taking the punishment, finally sighing with relief as he felt a warmth spread in his gut, and Tisék slumped over him, breathing heavily.
Tisék pushed away from Leyjen, staggering to the breakfast table and sitting down on the edge. He stared at Leyjen with glazed eyes as the younger man pulled down the skirts of his robes, and righted himself with a painful grimace.

The cream yellow robes were unlaced, the long laces lassoed around Leyjen’s waist, a common sight amongst the clerics in the late evening, especially when they were heading to and from the bathing halls.
Which was exactly where Leyjen had been coming from when Tisék had caught him. Tisék had manhandled Leyjen into his room, bent him over the desk and had his way, without so much as a word, Leyjen fighting him the whole way.

The pale olive skin was still marred by old bruises that Tisék had served him last time Leyjen had spent a night with the man, more than ten days before.
It was becoming harder and harder to cover up the bruises, scrapes and cuts, the other clerics had heard every excuse so many times that even Leyjen had started hearing the rumours that were circling the Temple.
The last time Tisék had been so violent Leyjen had avoided him with great care since.
Tonight he had unfortunately been caught off guard. And without his trousers.

Leyjen drew a few steadying breaths, fingers splayed on the table top, before he slowly turned to face Tisék, amber eyes averted to the floor.
Tisék took a long swig from his flask, his face a cold mask of contempt.
Leyjen closed the space between them in a couple of strides, grabbed the flask out of Tisék’s hand and with a growl poured the strong liquor into the dirty water of the wash basin.

“What the Hell are you doing?” Tisék roared, pushing Leyjen away from the basin, the tin flask clattering on the floor, empty.

“You’ve had enough, Tisék. I can’t stand watching you drink yourself into oblivion every single day. As much as I resent this hold you have over me, I do still care about you. And I can tell that the drinking is making you ill. I won’t have it any longer. You’re quitting.”

“You do not tell me what to do.” Tisék shouted, planting a fist in Leyjen’s cheek, hard enough to make the younger cleric stumble a few paces backwards.

“I do what I please, Leyjen Shaoir! And if drinking myself to death is what I want to do, I’ll do just that. Get out of my sight, bastard.”

Leyjen’s eyes flared alarmingly and he shoved Tisék away from him,
“I’ve told you, stop calling me that. If you won’t listen to me, I give up, Tisék. I’m not going to stand by and watch you slowly kill yourself. If you don’t stop drinking like this I’m leaving you.”

“I won’t let you!”

“I don’t care. You’ve started drinking so much that I doubt anyone would even believe you. You’re killing yourself before my eyes and you’re dragging me down with you. I can’t take it.”

Leyjen turned to leave, as much as to hide the pain in his eyes, the thought of losing one more person he cared for too much to bear.
Tisék’s reaction caught him off guard, the older cleric lunged at him, arms outstretched, fingers wrapping around Leyjen’s throat in a vicegrip.
The attack was so sudden that Leyjen stumbled, falling to his knees, Tisék raging above him.
“I told you I would never let you leave. I will not let you. You are mine. You belong to me now. Just like they promised me.”

Leyjen choked, clawing at Tisék’s hands, the older cleric squeezing his throat for a few minutes, then letting go just as suddenly, standing up slowly.

Leyjen stayed on his knees for a few more moments catching his breath, his head scrambling to make sense of what Tisék had just said.
Once he had his breathing under control again, Leyjen climbed to his feet, and turned to face his tormentor, his voice low and threatening.
“What do you mean, like they promised?”

Tisék swallowed thickly, his alcohol glazed eyes suddenly sober and a little frightened. They stared at each other for a few strained minutes, Tisék’s mind visibly searching for a way out of the hole he’d just dug himself.
Leyjen stood with his legs slightly apart, fists clenched by his sides, his mind running through all the possibilities that sentence held, no matter how crazy or outrageous they were.

Finally Tisék cleared his throat quietly, his eyes becoming hard and with a soft sneer he said,
“They promised me they’d get me out of this place. All I have to do is give them your precious little Polinues, and they’ll get me out of here. And give me you as my prize. I’ve been trying for nearly seven years now. But you two… you two are slippery like a pair of eels, and they’ve been having a hard time getting their hands on him.”

“What do you mean? Who’s they?”

Tisék smiled viciously, his eyes brightening with such malice that it frightened Leyjen.

“I let them know every time you two leave the compound. I let them know when you go home on holiday, I tell them when you go to the village, but for some reason they seem unable to find you. They’ve tried so many times that they’re getting frustrated. Maybe I’ll just go and get the brat myself and bring him to them. And then I’ll have you all to myself.”

With a shout Leyjen grabbed the front of Tisék’s robes and shook him,
“Who are they? Who are you talking about? What do they want with Polinues?”

Tisék laughed loudly, punching Leyjen in the stomach, and pushing him off.

Leyjen stumbled backwards, gagging, and Tisék grabbed him by the throat, bringing their faces close, hissing with a manic chuckle,
“They’ve been trying to find Polinues for nearly twelve years, but they say there are spells all around the castle and the Temple, so they can’t get close to him. Now that they’ve finally gotten the Golden Magi to cooperate they’ve found him. They know for certain he’s the one they’re looking for. And now I’ll be the one to bring him to them.”

Tisék pushed at Leyjen’s throat as he let go, the younger man instinctively reaching a hand up to rub the bruised skin, and then it dawned on him.
Leyjen’s eyes grew round with alarm, and his jaw dropped slightly, the colour draining from his face.

Tisék was too full of himself to anticipate Leyjen’s next move, the older cleric pulling away only half a moment too late.
Leyjen jumped forwards, his long fingers wrapping around the soft cotton of Tisék’s sleeve and he pulled as hard as he could.
The room filled with the sound of fabric tearing, and Tisék’s gasp, as the torn sleeve fell away from his left arm, revealing the mark Leyjen had always thought was a scar.

“The Viscount Clan? You belong to the Viscount Clan? Tisék? How long?”
Leyjen’s voice shook as he stared at the branding on Tisék’s white skin, Tisék tugging limply at the torn sleeve to try and cover his arm.
Leyjen’s heart was pounding in his throat, making it harder to breathe, and he started to back away from Tisék.

“You’re a pet. You’re a Vampyr’s pet. A traitor…”
He stumbled backwards into the chair by the breakfast table, Tisék advancing with murderous intent.
Leyjen struggled to block the blows, Tisék’s hand tangled in the front of his robes, pushing Leyjen back, throwing his balance off.

“I am not a pet. They do not own me. I serve them while it serves my purpose. You made me this way…”

“I did? What did I do to make you a Vampyr’s pet.”

“Your Vampyr murdered my lover!” Tisék punctuated each word with a punch to Leyjen’s face, Leyjen unable to defend himself fell down on his knee, his leg twisted under him.

“The Foreigner. He was your owner?” Leyjen gasped, finally getting a grip on Tisék’s elbow, and stopping the blows for a few moments. Leyjen stared up at his tormentor with tears in his eyes, realizing his own mistake too late.

Tisék tangled his fingers in Leyjen’s hair and hissed, as he slammed Leyjen’s head into the brick wall behind him.
“Galeth was not my owner. He was my lover.”

Leyjen cried out in pain as Tisék punctuated the last four words by slamming Leyjen’s head against the rough hewn bricks.
Leyjen went limp in Tisék’s hands, his head swimming, and the older cleric let go of him.
Tisék took a couple of steps back, then gave Leyjen a brutal kick to the face.

Leyjen crumbled down on the floor, his eyes rolling back in his head.

Tisék walked to his wardrobe and fished a bottle of plum brandy out of the back, sipping at it in long draughts as he stared at Leyjen’s limp body.
There was a small smear of blood on the wall, and crimson splatters on his cream coloured robes.
Tisék leaned against the wardrobe, watching as Leyjen moaned, bringing a hand to his head, cradling his forehead as he pushed up off the floor.

Leyjen struggled to his feet, dizzy and disoriented, his head pounding so hard he was seeing stars, and with fumbling hands he pulled the door open.

“I’m going to bed. I’m tired.” He mumbled, stumbling out of the room, Tisék closing the door quietly behind him.

Leyjen didn’t bother to remove his robes when he finally made it to his room, he just crashed into his bed, pulling the covers up to his chin, and closed his aching eyes, hoping the pounding in his head would subside by morning.


Polinues bounded up the stone steps of the Cleric’s clositer, his light cotton robes fluttering around him, his cheerful greetings drawing smiles from the older clerics that he passed.
Out in the square the noon bell started ringing just as Polinues stuck his head into Leyjen’s room.

“Oy! Sleepy head. Time to get up. I can’t believe you’re still in bed, it’s fucking noon already. What are you doing? Are you sick? Did you drink too much last night?” Polinues spoke loudly, scuttling across the room, and jumping up on the bed, anticipating a grouchy and complaining Leyjen, but he got no response.

Leyjen was sleeping peacefully, his face pale against the white pillow, his auburn hair redder than usual in the dim light filtering through the shutters.
Polinues sat down on the edge of the bed, poking Leyjen’s shoulder hard,
“Leyjen? Wake up. This isn’t funny.” He quibbled, stroking Leyjen’s cheek, but still there was no response, Leyjen’s skin chill and clammy under his hand.

Polinues’ heart quickened, and he leaned forwards, calling Leyjen’s name, his hand sinking into the pillow behind Leyjen’s head.
The squelch of the soaked pillow made Polinues’ stomach turn, and somehow he knew what it was before he lifted his hand and looked at it.

The scream that erupted from Leyjen’s room startled the prefect and his assistant so badly that one of the men actually yelped, before they started running towards the room.
The assistant got there first, and promptly fainted, as Polinues raised his bloodied hands towards them and screamed,
“Help me! He’s bleeding. He’s dying.”

The prefect felt for a pulse, a weak and thready beat in Leyjen’s neck, before he shouted for help and two fourth stage clerics went running to the Healing Halls for a stretcher.
The Head Healer and the ninth stage Healers all agreed.
Leyjen had suffered a serious head injury, possibly even a brain injury, and there was nothing they could do, except wait and see.

Polinues sat down by Leyjen’s bed, once the wound on his head had been cleaned and dressed, and refused to budge.
The First Temple Cleric spoke with him at length when he’d skipped his afternoon classes, and they agreed that Polinues could stay by Leyjen’s side, as long as he did his homework.

The hours passed into night, Polinues falling asleep curled up at the foot of the bed, and the first day went by without incident, Leyjen sleeping peacefully on the crisp linen sheets.
His breath was slow and shallow, and his pulse weak and thready.

Four days went by without change, and the Healers brought Polinues a small bedroll to sleep on next to Leyjen’s bed.

Tisék came to see Leyjen once.
He fled the Healing Halls with a screaming Polinues after him, wielding a heavy wooden stool. Tisék didn’t try to approach either of them again.

On the fifth day Leyjen started suffering convulsions, his body thrashing on the bed like a fish out of water, and the Healers had to fight him to help him.
Polinues sat quietly in a corner as the Head Healer drilled a small hole in Leyjen’s head to relieve the pressure on the inside of his skull.

The Head Healer sat down with Polinues and explained that there was little else they could do, so he should start preparing himself for the worst.
Polinues cried himself to sleep that night, cuddled up against the unresponsive body in the bed, whispering prayers to every god he had ever heard of, begging the gods to save Leyjen’s life.

The next day went by in the same manner, and on the seventh night Polinues had all but accepted the fact that Leyjen might possibly die.


Polinues twitched awake, his hand resting on Leyjen’s chest groping the prominent ribs, his mind catching up before his consciousness did, fear driving his heart wild, and with a jerk he sat up in the bed.

Leyjen had stopped breathing.

Leyjen’s face was so pale it was nearly luminescent in the semi darkness of the Healing Halls, all colour drained from his parted lips, and his chest utterly still.

“Leyjen.”

Polinues’ voice echoed through the Hall, but the quiet Hall was as unresponsive as Leyjen’s still form.
Polinues knelt beside his mentor and shook him hard by the shoulders, pounding small fists into Leyjen’s chest, screaming his name, shouting for help, but noone came.

“Leyjen, please. Please wake up. Leyjen breathe!”

Polinues choked on his tears, his voice catching in his throat, and with a tormented cry, he fell over Leyjen’s lifeless body, burying his face against the still chest.

A heavy hand on Polinues’ shoulder made the boy jump, his arms spreading over Leyjen’s body, as if to protect him.

The bright azure eyes were like beacons of light in the dim room, the curtains drawn tight behind the tall man.

“You?” Polinues moaned, fear clutching at his throat, while his heart jumped with joy.

“Move. Let me help him.” Amraeen whispered urgently, his jaws clenched tight, a slight tremble in his hands, as he gently eased Polinues out of the way.

Polinues sat down at the foot of the bed, watching the Vampyr with tear filled eyes.
Amraeen brushed his fingers over Leyjen’s face, gentle and loving, his voice hardly above a breath.

“Come back, Leyjen. It is not your time. Not yet. Not like this. Come back, loved, come back.” Amraeen whispered, fingertips tracing the sharp angles of Leyjen’s face, his lips brushing against Leyjen’s forehead.
Amraeen fluttered soft kisses down Leyjen’s temple, over his cheek, until he pressed his lips against Leyjen’s, hands gentle around Leyjen’s face.

There was no change, Leyjen was dead, of that there was no doubt.

Amraeen stroked his brow for a few moments, muttering spells and incantations, whatever came to mind, but nothing made the slightest diffirence.

The Vampyr drew a deep breath, and bent over Leyjen, muttering as he stroked his thumb over Leyjen’s bottom lip,
“I don’t know if this will work, but it’s all I can think of. Please, come back, Leyjen.”

Polinues stared at the lovers with round eyes as Amraeen bent low over Leyjen, parting Leyjen’s lips with a gentle tug of his thumb.
The pink tip of Amraeen’s tongue brushed against Leyjen’s top lip, and a small sparkling drop of blood slipped between the lifeless lips.
Quickly Amraeen closed Leyjen’s lips and stroked his throat gently.

Polinues tried to stop the tears falling down his cheeks, but the pain was too deep.

He gasped, his heart jumping so hard it almost burst from his chest, when Leyjen’s chest suddenly arched up, his lips parting in a painful gasp. His long fingers dug into the sheets, and he moaned long, his amber eyes fluttering open, unfocused and dark.

“Amraeen?” He moaned, one hand reaching for the pale skinned Vampyr, and Amraeen smiled.

“Hush, loved. Sleep. You’re safe now. Sleep, my loved.” Amraeen whispered, cradling Leyjen’s face between his hands.

Leyjen reached up, craning his neck, parting his lips as Amraeen sank over him, claiming him with a blissful kiss.

Polinues gasped silently and looked away, jealousy drowning him in shame.

Amraeen broke the kiss after a few moments, and eased Leyjen back down on the pillows, whispering,
“Sleep now, loved. You’re safe.”

Leyjen closed his eyes with a soft smile, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest showing that he was asleep within moments.
Amraeen sat still, with a hand on Leyjen’s cheek for a long time, his eyes overflowing with emotion, Polinues squirming uncomfortably at the foot of the bed.
Amraeen started slightly, seeming to become aware of the boy suddenly, and quickly he rose to his feet, bowing slightly.

“Polinues. He’s safe now. He’s sleeping. Do you know the old barn on the far side of the creek? Meet me there as soon as you can, I need to talk with you.” Amraeen squeezed Polinues’ shoulder quickly and disappeared just as swiftly as he had appeared.

Polinues wiped his tears into his sleeve, staring down at the sleeping Leyjen, uncertain whether he should stay or go meet the Vampyr.
Leyjen’s face was peaceful, the colour returning slowly, his lips slightly curled in a gentle smile.

Polinues ran a hand over Leyjen’s brow, and hesitant, almost afraid, he bent over the older man, and pressed his lips against that soft smile.
Leyjen twitched, a silent sigh escaping into Polinues’ mouth, as Leyjen returned the kiss in his sleep.
Polinues was shaking as he climbed off the bed, and ran as fast as he could out of the Healing Halls, towards the bridge by the mill.

Amraeen was pacing back and forth in the dark, fists clenching and unclenching by his sides, his bright blue eyes ablaze with hardly contained anger.
Polinues slipped through the door, approaching the Vampyr with caution.

“Young master Polinues. Thank you for coming.” Amraeen bowed slightly, then pointed the boy to sit down on a crate.

Polinues sat down, shoulders tense and twitchy. Amraeen paced a couple of times back and forth before he turned to face the boy and sat down on the floor.

“Why couldn’t you talk to me in the Healing Halls. I don’t want to be away from him for too long.”

“Don’t worry about Leyjen. He’s safe now. He’ll sleep for a while, but he’s going to be fine. I couldn’t stay there any longer. The strain on my body was too much. Vampyr cannot stand hallowed ground for long. It causes us physical pain.”

“Oh, I didn’t know. I’m sorry.” Polinues hung his head, muttering, feeling slightly embarrassed.
He cleared his throat, then looked up at the Vampyr, trying to act a little more grown up.
“Thank you for saving Leyjen. He means the world to me, and I can’t imagine living without him.”
Polinues tried to smile, but his words brought tears to his eyes.

“I know how you feel. You are welcome.”

The silence between them was uncomfortable, strained, and Polinues’ eyes fluttered around the barn, struggling to find something to look at, other than the imposing Vampyr opposite him.
Amraeen was breathing heavily, as if to calm himself enough to speak without bursting. It was Polinues who finally broke the silence, catching Amraeen off guard.

“Why did you leave him?”

“What?”

“It’s a simple question. Why did you leave him? He told me you threw him away like a used toy, and then left with your new lover. Why? And what are you doing back?”

Amraeen swallowed thickly, his eyes moist, but he refused to let his tears fall.
“I had no choice. I was given an order to find myself a consort, and leave him. Our relationship was distracting Leyjen from his duty as your guardian.”

“And being Tisék’s little whore didn’t distract him at all. He was far less distracted by you than he was by Tisék, so I don’t really see how that’s argument enough.”

“My Vianin gave me an order. I obeyed.”

“Your Vianin? That means your maker, doesn’t it? Who is your Vianin?”

Amraeen looked away, the intensity in the boy’s eyes too much for the Vampyr to bear, and his voice sank to a whisper as he answered,
“Leyjen’s father.”

Polinues nodded, a look on his face that revealed a soul aged far beyond the almost twelve summers he had seen.

“His father. Your lover, right?”

Amraeen nodded, shame and rage battling for his heart.

“And you can’t disobey orders from your Vianin. Do you think that perhaps jealousy had any part to play in this?”

Again Amraeen nodded, a shudder running through his body, his voice unstable when he spoke,
“He showed me a vision. Of what would happen if I disobeyed. I can’t come back. Never again. You can never tell him I was here.”

“But he saw you. He’ll remember.”

“No. He won’t remember. He’ll only think it was a dream. A delirium brought on by the injury. You can never tell him any of this. Leyjen must believe that this was just a dream.”

“I won’t tell him.” Polinues’ jaw squared, the muscles going taut and his eyes blazed for a moment.

“Jealousy does not become you, little one. Do not fret, his heart belongs to you. It always has, and it always will. Now tell me. Who was it that did this to him?”

Polinues relaxed his shoulders, looking at his feet, now it was his time to fight his tears.
“I don’t know. I suspect Tisék, but I can’t be sure, because I found Leyjen in his own bed.”

“Who is this Tisék?”

“He’s a sixth stage cleric that’s been abusing Leyjen ever since you left. I don’t like him. His father is a Thainknight under my father, and that apparently gives him the right to act like a tosser. He’s always drunk, and he hates my guts.”

Amraeen sat quiet for a few minutes, Polinues squirming on his crate, desperately wanting to go back to Leyjen.

“Bring him to me.”

“What? Bring who to you how?”

“This Tisék. Bring him to me. At midnight tomorrow night. I don’t care how you do it, just make sure he’s here at midnight tomorrow night.”
The tone in Amraeen’s voice made Polinues cringe, there was a darkness in his voice that scared the living daylights out of Polinues, but the boy felt excitement as well. He nodded his head enthusiastically, and jumped down from the crate.

“I’ll get him here, one way or another.” He promised, shaking Amraeen’s hand quickly, as if to seal the deal.

Amraeen watched the boy run across the bridge, until he disappeared around the corner of a building, then he slipped out the garden gate, to his hiding place.


Polinues thunked his arms ontop of the writing desk, placing his chin on his hands and glaring at Tisék. The cleric only glanced briefly at him, ignoring him when he realized who it was that was interrupting his work.

The scribe room was quiet, except for the scratching of quills against parchment, so Polinues’ hissing whisper could be easily heard.
“Oy, Titsack! I’ve got a message for you.”

Tisék glared at the boy, stabbing his quill into the inkwell, as he answered,
“Oh, really? What’s that, Poxy Polin.”

“Leyjen’s awake. He wants to see you. He asked me to tell you, meet him in the old barn at midnight tonight.”

Tisék looked up too fast, his eyes rounding out, but he quickly gained control of himself, and with a little cough asked,
“Did he now. And you expect me to believe you? I doubt the Healers let him out just like that. Why would I go and see him in the old barn anyway?”

“He woke up yesterday. I told them to not tell you. And now Leyjen’s pissed at me. He’s going to sneak out to meet you. You’ll go and meet him. I know. You can’t help yourself.”
Polinues smiled suggestively at the cleric, Tisék glaring back with crimson cheeks.

“Tell him I’ll come and meet him.” Tisék hissed through clenched teeth, nearly knocking his inkwell over, and splattering the parchment with ink.

Polinues glared back, his voice sinking deep as he whispered over the edge of the writing desk, just as he turned away to leave.
“I know what you did.”

Tisék did knock his inkwell over and spilled the ink down most of the page he had spent hours transcribing, and down the front of his snow white robes.
Polinues skipped out of the scribe room with a loud laugh, Tisék’s curses chasing after him.

Leyjen’s amber eyes were cloudy and unfocused, as he furrowed his brow deeply, moving his game piece once again.

“No, Leyjen. I told you, you can’t move it that way. Not the foot soldiers. The archer and the cavalier, can move that way, but not the foot soldiers.”
Polinues’ voice had a little edge to it, his frustration leaking out, despite the effort he made to be patient.

Leyjen sighed, his hand trembling as he let go, and he rubbed at his temple, looking up at Polinues.
“You did? I can’t remember. I don’t know this game… I do know it, I just can’t remember.” He spoke quietly, haltingly, the words taking longer than usual to make their way from his head to his lips.
Polinues sighed as well, and began putting the game pieces away, restraining Leyjen with a gentle hand when the cleric tried to stop him.

“No, Leyjen. It’s alright. We don’t have to play this game if you don’t want to. Some other day, when you’re feeling better. We can do something else. What do you want to do? We can read. I brought some story books from the library, we can read together.”
Polinues struggled to keep his voice cheerful, the weak smile on Leyjen’s face breaking his heart a hundred times over.

Leyjen had woken up that morning, and had made remarkable progress in only a few hours.
His head still hurt, and his vision seemed to go blurry from time to time, but for the most part he was fine. The Head Healer seemed convinced that Leyjen would make a full recovery, eventually.

Polinues had sat by Leyjen’s side from the moment he awoke, keeping the cleric busy with small talk, games and reading, and helped Leyjen eat during their meals. Leyjen had taken a nap just after lunch, and only then had Polinues nipped out for a short while. He had been back before Leyjen woke up again.
Now they sat together, Polinues trying to play Strategy with Leyjen, but the cleric seemed to have forgotten most of the rules of his favorite boardgame.
Leyjen sank down into the pillows, a sad smile on his face.

Reaching out a hand he gently cupped Polinues’ cheek, and whispered,
“I’m sorry. I’m no good right now. I’m tired.”
They were interrupted as the Head Healer poked his head through the curtains around the bed.
“Evening, you two. How are you, Leyjen?” the older man smiled fatherly at the young cleric, checking his pulse and other vital signs as Leyjen answered in a halting voice.
“I’m alright, Healer. My head hurts, almost constantly, and I sometimes have a hard time… um, a hard time….”

Leyjen’s eyes turned to Polinues, and Leyjen asked quietly,
“Looking for?”
Polinues stared back, answering almost without pause to think,
“Finding.”

Leyjen smiled, turning back to the Head Healer, continuing where he’d left off,
“I sometimes have a hard time finding the right words, but I’m getting better.”

“Any dizziness, nausea or loss of vision?”

“I get a little dizzy when I sit up, but the nausea passed before noon. My eyesight was a little fuzzy this morning, but it’s better now. Back to normal. Almost.”

“Alright then. I think you’ll be mostly back to your old self within the week. Might take a couple of weeks for your memory to improve, and you’ll probably get bad headaches for a while. But all in all, I’d say you’re going to be just fine. Just make sure you get enough sleep. Like right now. It’s past midnight, and it’s time you two go to bed.”

Leyjen and Polinues both nodded, Polinues rising to help Leyjen lie down and get comfortable.

The Healer stood over them, taking a look at Leyjen’s head wound before he turned to leave. As he was about to step through the curtains again, he turned and whispered to Leyjen,
“You don’t remember my name, do you Leyjen?”

Leyjen stared up, his confusion evident in his eyes, and as he shook his head no, he tucked the left corner of his bottom lip under his front teeth, worrying it slightly.

“That’s alright. It’ll take time to come back. You might not remember names, faces and even places for a while. Some you may even have to learn all over again. My name is Chauncer, although you usually address me with my title, as is customary. Now go to sleep. Polinues, I expect you’ll be sleeping here tonight as well. Well, good night then.”
The Head Healer bowed a little to the pair, as Polinues affirmed that he would indeed be sleeping on the floor next to Leyjen’s bed.

The boy stretched out on the bed next to Leyjen, stroking Leyjen’s cheek gently as the cleric fell asleep, the bell in the temple tower tolling the half hour after midnight.
When he was absolutely certain that Leyjen was asleep, and the night watchman had passed through the Hall, Polinues slipped off the bed, covered his head with the pine green hood of his robe and slipped outside, flitting through shadows until he reached the mill bridge.

Soundlessly Polinues crept through the door of the old barn, the darkness filled with harsh breathing and pitiful whines.
Polinues let his eyes adjust to the semi darkness, the light of the twin moons filtering through a hole in the roof.

At the far back of the barn stood Amraeen, a terrifying vision of burning azure eyes and vicious canines.
On his knees Tisék moaned desperately, clawing at Amraeen’s arms, struggling to get away, Amraeen’s fingers digging into the soft flesh of his neck.
Amraeen’s lips peeled back in a sneer, fingernails piercing the white skin, and blood welled up under his fingers, Tisék’s breath gurgling in his throat.

Polinues gagged at the sound, his heart stuttering as he heard the larynx in Tisék’s throat crumble and crack.
Amraeen let out an angry moan, the sound bordering on the sexual, as he pushed Tisék’s dying body away, gloating over the cleric as he choked slowly on the dirty floor.

Polinues whimpered as Tisék’s dead eyes fell on him, and Amraeen jerked towards the sound.

“Polinues. You weren’t supposed to see that.” Amraeen said in a shaky voice, advancing towards the boy, unaware of the blood covering his hands.
Polinues fell back from the Vampyr, fear contorting his scarred face.

“You said you were only going to talk to him. You didn’t say you were going to kill him.” Polinues couldn’t help the fear in his voice, as he stumbled backwards away from the Vampyr.

“I spoke with him. He was a traitor. He was a Vampyr’s pet, and he’s been trying to sell you over to them. I had to kill him, Polinues.” Amraeen spoke calmly, bending over the corpse he wiped the blood off his hands on the white cotton robes, and closed Tisék’s eyes.
He then sat down on a crate facing the body, pointing Polinues to another crate infront of him.

“I’m sorry, Polinues. I didn’t think you’d come after him. He confessed to me that he’s owned by the Viscount Clan. He’s branded with their crest. He admitted that he’s under orders to deliver you to the Vampires, and that he was to have Leyjen as his prize when he had completed his task. He’s been used as a channel for his owners magick to draw you to him, so he could deliver you.”

“What do you mean that he was supposed to have Leyjen as his prize?”

“He told me the Vampyr had promised him to take him away from here, and that they would make Leyjen his slave.”

Polinues jumped to his feet with a roar, and running over to the corpse he started kicking it, shouting profanities and curses that made Amraeen blush.

When he saw that most of Polinues’ anger was spent, Amraeen rose to his feet and pulled the boy back to the crate, making him sit down.
Amraeen sat down on his haunches, stroking Polinues’ arms to sooth him, speking in a low voice.

“Polinues, calm yourself. I need your full attention. I don’t have much time, and I must see to other matters before sunrise. I will leave the corpse here. Someone will find it eventually. You cannot say a word to anyone. You know nothing of what happened here, if anyone asks you’ve been by Leyjen’s side every moment, save for the few minutes you take to bathe and other such things.”

Polinues’ lips were a thin, white line, his eye blazing but the Vampyr could tell he had the boy’s undivided attention.

“You cannot tell Leyjen that I came here. You must give me your word on this. If you tell him, he might come looking for me, and that cannot happen. He must think that I do not love him anymore.”

“You do know you broke his heart.” Polinues whispered, gently laying a hand on Amraeen’s shoulder.

Amraeen gasped a little, looking away.
“Not only his heart. Mine died the moment he left my sight. Promise me you’ll never tell him.”

“I promise.”

“You must now be more vigilant than ever before. There is a Vampyr out there, a Vampyr of the Viscount Clan, and he’s after you. I will do my best to take care of the problem, but I cannot guarantee that I will succeed. You must watch your backs. Protect yourselves with every spell that you know.”

Polinues nodded,
“We already do. I’ll study better, and make sure we never leave the compound without protective spells. Leyjen’s put spells around the castle. We should be safe there.”

“Yes. You are safe there. It’s protected by spells older than you can imagine.”

Amraeen sighed, and suddenly he pulled Polinues into his arms, hugging him close.
Polinues resisted for a moment, but when he felt no malice in the embrace he wrapped his arms around Amraeen’s neck, and hugged him back just as tightly.

“Take care of him for me. Never stop loving him, and love him with everything you have.” Amraeen whispered into the scarred neck, fighting the tears that forced their way down his cheeks.

Polinues nodded his head, squeezing Amraeen slightly.
“I’ll never leave him. I’ll keep him safe.”

They held the embrace for a few more moments, then Amraeen rose to his feet.
“Come. I’ll walk you to the bridge. Watch you until you are safely inside.”

Amraeen offered Polinues his hand, which the boy took and together they started walking towards the door. When Amraeen started to pull the door open, Polinues stopped him.

“Wait. I need to ask you something first. I need your help with something.”