Chronicles of Tesselle

Part 3

It was night. The group had separated and set up individual sleeping areas as far away from each other as possible. Apparently, nobody trusted anyone else. In the farthest nook, hidden somewhat by a bush, the slavers set up camp. They attached the wrist and ankle chains of their captive to metal pikes that they shoved into the earth so that the slave was spread-eagled on the ground.

“You smug bastard, you think you’re so great don’t you? I’ll bet you were royalty before you met us, weren’t you?”

The taunting tone made the slave sneer in return.

Arge’s face contorted with rage. He slapped the impudent creature.

When the beady-eyed man cleared his throat pointedly, Arge didn’t even look at him. “Don’t worry Won, I won’t cut him. Bruises all fade with time.”

As there was no further objection made, Arge continued “playing” with the slave.

“See this?” Arge held up his mangled hand. “I got this because of you. You remember don’t you?”

The slave gave him a look that clearly said: “You got that because of yourself.”

Arge’s nostrils flared and he looked about to hit the slave again before he stopped himself and calmed once more.

“I’m not gonna listen to you—you’re just a stupid slave after all.” Arge nodded to himself, as if he had come up with a brilliant idea. “No need to listen to you at all. I am far above you, you cur.”

The slave snorted. He hadn’t said anything at all in the presence of these brutes. Funny that Arge was refusing to listen to a silent man. He wasn’t the most intelligent of slavers, was he?

Arge didn’t notice or was too dumb to get the implications of the snort for he went on. “So because you are the cause of this wound, I’m gonna make you pay. You’re gonna wish that you’d never crossed the path of Arge Pohl. Yes you are.”

The slave looked dubious.

Arge grinned frighteningly. “Believe me, I will enjoy this very much.”

Then he reached down and unbuckled his belt.

The slave’s eyes widened slightly—not enough to be easily noticed, but they widened nevertheless. Resolutely, he decided not to allow the psychopathic slaver the pleasure of seeing him afraid. He would survive this.

Even before he finished unfastening his pants, the slave could tell that Arge was already fully aroused. He (the slave) was disgusted at the thought that a person could find the prospect of raping another arousing. How could it possibly be satisfying if one knows that the other person participating in the act has absolutely no interest in it? Moreover, the person would be quite opposed to the idea…

Land-walkers were as horrible and revolting as everyone used to say.

He refused to turn his eyes away as the slaver’s erection sprung free of its confines. It was somewhat larger than the slave had expected and was darkened red with blood increase in that area. The slave withheld a nasty smile, he now knew why the man was so stupid—all the blood was in his dick, not his brain

He wasn’t able hold his amusement for long. Arge grinned unkindly as he ripped off the slaves loincloth to reveal his completely limp member. But Arge didn’t care about the slave’s pleasure. No, he wanted only to hurt the powerless person…and get off in the process of course.

He ran big, cold, damp, dirty hands along the fine lines of the slave’s body. Since he couldn’t contest the slave’s beauty, he might as well milk it for all it’s worth. The slave, trying his best to ignore the clumsy hands on his body, couldn’t help but think that rape was the only way the slaver could have sex. Nothing about him was in any way attractive, especially not his big, ugly body.

Arge ran his tongue along rotting teeth before shoving said tongue into the slave’s mouth. Stunned, at first, by the intrusion of the slimy muscle into his mouth, the slave could do little more than try to keep his jaw from dislocating at the sheer strength of slaver’s assault.

Once he managed that, he promptly bit down on Arge’s tongue. Sickeningly salty blood filled his mouth as the slaver jerked away. Then the slave’s thoughts went reeling as a meaty fist clobbered him in the side of the head.

“Fucking fuck!” the slaver hissed at him as he wiped at his bloody mouth (with his bloody hand no less).

Arge hit him again before quickly unlocking the cuffs. Before the slave could regain his head to fight back, his position had been reversed so that his face was shoved into the dirt. Once again, the chains were attached and his fate was sealed.

He struggled to hold in a cry as his butt cheeks were parted and the slaver’s thick cock was suddenly shoved up his ass, without warning or lubrication. He gasped as the slaver continued to push into him, unmindful of the leaking blood that was the result of his forced entry. Big hands grasped his hips in an iron grip, holding him completely at the slaver’s mercy. The slave grinded his teeth, feeling his flesh tear as his body was invaded. At least the blood helped slick the passage.

Arge groaned loudly, sounding much like a lowing cow, as his cock was enveloped by the tight heat of the slave. It had been so very long since he last experienced that pleasure. When he was fully seated in the slave, he finally looked at the form beneath him. He grinned at the sight. The smooth, unmarred back was tensed and trembling with pain.

The slave clenched his teeth and squeezed his eyes closed as the slaver suddenly pulled out and then shoved back in with another loud, throaty moan. Again, and again, the slaver pulled out and pushed back in. Despite the strong virginal resistance of the slave, his brute strength allowed him to ram into the body so quickly that the slapping of his balls against the slave’s flesh was quite audible.

It seemed like forever before the slaver made his final push and came violently in the chained form below him. His howl of release was undoubtedly heard by all members of the traveling group.

Then the slaver just collapsed on top of the slave, crushing his far slighter body with his own massive one. The slave, meanwhile, heaved huge breaths as he tried to regain control of his body.

When Arge finally revived he looked with a curled lip at the bloody form spread on the soil. With a sick grin, he pulled out his dagger and then shoved the hilt into the unsuspecting slave.

The slave’s mouth opened in a voiceless scream as his torture resumed.


On the other side of the encampment, green-gold eyes narrowed.


When the first rays of dawn turned the sky golden and the travelers began to break camp, one traveler, in particular, had been already awake. In fact, since waking up in the middle of the night in cold sweat, said traveler had been completely unable to go to sleep. Upon waking up in the dead of night, the traveler had heard the enraged voice of the slaver and then the animalistic groaning. Knowing what was happening, he could not return to sleep, so angry and afraid had he been. So he had curled up under his blankets and tried to keep his disquiet to himself.

“You were awake pretty much all night.”

Nen jumped as Shikishi’s soft voice entwined about him. It wasn’t an accusation, more like an observation.

He bit chewed his lip nervously before saying, “What do you mean by that?”

Shikishi didn’t answer. They both knew the answer to that question.

A muffled curse turned their attention to the slave traders who decided to rejoin the group then. Nen’s body immediately became rigid and his eyes hardened.

To say that the slave looked terrible was an understatement, Dark bruises stood out along the side of his face and his wrists and ankles had been rubbed so raw that they were oozing blood. His body was a great deal more dirt-caked than it had been the day before and apparently his slavers had not cared to clean him up or give him medical attention for down the inside of his legs, blood still slowly streamed over dried semen and older blood.

Yet the slave, despite his battered body, held his head high and looked on the world with flashing eyes that said he was far from being broken.

Nen couldn’t help but feel a sense of triumph at the slave’s display of will. Although it would likely mean more trouble for him, it also meant that he had the strength to survive. Perhaps he would even turn the tables on his captors.

Once the group had congregated together again, Bear took his place at the head of the little caravan, leading his followers onward.


When the group stopped for lunch, Shikishi removed some hard bread, some dried jerky, and the water jug from their supplies. He sat down on the ground next to Nen and handed the younger boy his portion of the meal. As Tsenxie was still pestering the merc, the two friends were able to eat their food in relative silence.

Nen looked up when he saw the blond man disappear into the woods. When the man returned with some berries, Nen realized that the man had absolutely no supplies. He hadn’t given it much thought before, but now he could see that the man wore everything that he had. His water pouch hung from his belt as did several low-quality knives. He had a comparatively fine bow on his back which at first confused Nen. Then after the man finished his scanty meal, he saw the man un-sheath a knife and begin whittling away at a piece of wood that had been lying at his feet. Nen surmised, after seeing the wood take life in the man’s hands, that the man must have carved his own bow. It was really quite impressive.

But aside from his weapons, his water container (made from animal’s skin and thus likely also created by the man himself), and his clothes, the man had nothing else. No food, no blankets, and no spare clothes.

What was the man going to do in the winter? Was he really so desperate to leave Pendelia that he wouldn’t bother bringing any sort of supplies? Or was it that he couldn’t afford supplies? He certainly seemed poor enough for the latter to be true.

Nen resolved to let go of his dislike of the man and offer him some of their own supplies during supper that night.

Suddenly the slaver from the day before, Arge, suddenly stood up, said something to the black-eyed man, and then yanked the slave after him. Nen could only grit his teeth, knowing that the reason the man dragged the slave off into the surrounding woods wasn’t to allow the slave to relieve himself.

For a brief moment, as the two passed him, the slave’s eyes met Nen’s.

Then the moment was over and the slave and slaver vanished into the murky woods beyond.

Nen wondered at the thrill that had run up his spine the moment his eyes made contact with the slave’s. Somehow, he knew that the slave would not put up with another round of Arge’s treatment.

But what could the slave possibly do, chained as he was?


The slave almost laughed when his ears picked up the faint roar of a waterfall. /So, the stupid brute intends to go about his business near a waterfall? He probably intends for it to cover the annoying sounds that he makes during intercourse. As if his not-so-stupid leader wouldn’t realize what had happened…the signs would be obvious. Yet another show of a idiot’s idiocy./ The slave let a small smile touch his lips, unseen by his hurried slaver. /He doesn’t realize just how stupid he is./

They reached the waterfall. Had the slave been interested in the sights, he might’ve cared about the enchanting scene before him. The waterfall was created from the surge of water over a fifty-foot high cliff. A thick mist rose from the deep pool created by the fall of the water at the base of the waterfall where. There the water lay for a bit before plunging down another steep cliff. The slave surmised that soon the travel would become far more difficult, as they entered the hills, if the massive mountains and vertical drops that could be seen beyond the cliff’s edge counted as “hills.”

But the slave didn’t care much for that at the moment, having been thrown to the ground by the edge of the waterfall. He struggled to sit up despite the cuffs that locked his wrists together behind his back. But he was soon shoved back onto his back as the slaver climbed on top of him, pants already undone.

That was as far as things got.

Before the slaver even knew what was happening, he at the bottom of the pool and unable to resurface. Though the waterfall created a powerful down current, Arge was by no means a weak man. No doubt in his youth, he had likely tested his strength under similar waterfalls. It was not the water’s fall that kept him pinned to the bottom of the pool.

He would not live to find out.

Within minutes, he was dead, drowned in a pool in the middle of nowhere. His body drifted up to the surface, as if moved, not by the natural movement of water in the pool, but by another force. After all, dead bodies can’t float on their own.

When his body surfaced, it floated over to where the slave stood patiently at the surface. The slave check the man’s pulse and found none, then put his ear to his chest to make sure that there was no heartbeat.

Once the slave was satisfied that the slaver was definitely dead, Arge’s body eerily drifted to the edge of the pool, where it plummeted down, never to be seen again.

The slave smiled before turning his back to the pool.

Suddenly a column of water exploded from the pool. Yet the slave remained as he was, unmoving, completely unafraid. And when the water reached him, it diffracted, shooting off into all directions. When it disappeared, the slave was still standing. Yet, the collar around his neck and the chains binding his wrists and ankles were gone. The mighty rush of water had disintegrated his bindings and left him unharmed.

Then he turned and gracefully dove into the body of water, not splashing a single drop of water. When he reemerged, he was completely clean, all blood and dried semen gone, and his body was woundless. The bruises were gone and he no longer oozed blood from any wound.

He stepped out and the water simply rolled off of him, leaving him utterly dry.

Then, from the pool, a trail of water rose in the air. It traveled over to where the slave was standing before condensing into a perfect orb, hovering just above his right shoulder.

The slave’s eyes glinted.

/Now for the others./


Nen noticed that the remaining three slavers were getting restless. And to be truthful, so was the rest of the camp. All parties had finished eating and were itching to continue the journey. The longer they waited around, the longer the trip would be, and the better the chance that they would be caught.

The rustling of the underbrush in the direction that the slaver and slave had left alerted the group to the pair’s return.

The beady-eyed slaver who was the apparent leader, took a few steps towards the area, a very displeased expression on his face. Apparently, he intended to give Arge a good tongue-lashing for his time-taking activities, which everyone knew was the real reason the slaver had left with the slave.

Yet before anyone had even come into view, Shikashi had smiled an odd (though unseen as he still had his hood up) smile and murmured, “Interesting.”

Nen turned to him to ask him what he meant but a choked exclamation from one of the slavers returned his attention to the person leaving the concealment of the trees. For there was only one person there, standing calmly before them, and it wasn’t Arge.

Nen nearly whooped with glee when he saw the proud form of the slave there. There were no shackles ensnaring his body, his body was clean, and the bruises that had marred his face were gone. Moreover, there was a smirk on his face and a look in his eyes that said: /I win./

It was truly a beautiful sight.

A low growl of rage told him that certain others didn’t have quite the same view on the situation.

“Where is Arge?” The lead slaver demanded.

The slave shrugged and then made a vague gesture that encompassed a great deal of land. Then he shrugged again and smiled a faux innocent smile.

The slavers looked at each other and then, as one, lunged at the slave.

The previously unnoticed crystal blue ball hovering over the slave’s right hand shoulder made itself noticed then.

The black-eyed slaver quickly found a film of water attached over his nose and mouth, preventing him from breathing. The other two slavers, apparently not so disliked as their leader, were killed quickly when spears of water shot out of the orb and pierced their hearts. The leader’s death, however was long and painful as the slave—ex-slave, rather—commanded the water to spear his hands and feet. Though the man opened his mouth to scream, the water film muffled the sound. Soon enough, he too was dead.

Then the slave’s eyes raised and looked at the rest of the group with a challenge in his eyes. For the first time since his capture, he spoke. “My name, to you, is merely Vaha.” He nodded to them respectfully. There was an air of nobility in his body language that was especially obvious now. “As my passage with you has kindly been paid for already, I shall not waste the thoughtful act. I will continue to travel with you.” It was not a question.

Bear nodded quickly. He wasn’t about to say no to someone like that.

Without any further difficulties, the group continued on, three members less.

As they walked, Nen leaned over to Shikishi. “So that’s what you meant when you said ‘interesting.’”

Shikishi smiled enigmatically. “Perhaps.” And then he said no more on the subject.

Nen was curious about the secretive tone in his friend’s voice.