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Code of the Scribe
His hand moved almost unperceivably slow, closing the line of the last letter. It was a title, so its lettering was elegant and beautiful. Felix had only just finished this one, which he’d promised to a high priest for today. It listed many ancient gods and goddesses of a previous dead religion, and the old copy was so frayed and faded Felix could hardly read it. But he had to have exceptional eyesight, or he’d be a rather poor scribe. His rock-steady hands pressed quill to paper in such minute instances that very few could copy him in talent. But his days and nights stuck in a cottage had him rather afraid of people, even for an adult. Felix was bordering on silent around anyone beyond those requesting books or calendars or documents written or copied. But he accepted this---his talents demanded silence and time, both of which he had, though clients would sometimes badger him to finish quickly. Setting the list aside after tying it with a modest piece of burlap, Felix pulled another document to him and scanned it. This one was delivered by a man in black, with a square, sour face and rough complexion. His very presence had Felix shivering, and accepting the document with shaking hands. He couldn’t deny it, especially not with the amount of pay the man was offering. He wanted seven documents just like the first, absolutely no mistakes. It was a nerve-wracking thing, to be pressed to be utterly perfect. Studying it, Felix sighed and set it down, standing from his desk and going into his little kitchen. With still hands, he used the water pump above the basin to fill a cup with water, and settled against the basin to drink it. Spending so much time bent over paper at candlelight, constantly worrying and fearing mistakes that didn’t exist in the original document. And this man had wanted seven! Seven just like the first! It wasn’t impossible, but it was difficult to keep making the same strokes over and over again. Felix shifted, setting down the cup and raking his hands through his overlong bone-white hair, pulling it back and tying it at the base of his neck. He’d been told he had only a week’s time to get them all done. It sounded like a lot of time to most, who wondered how a professional scribe could take so much time just copying a document, but it took a lot of overlay and preparation. It was still early. Felix might finish at least six or seven lines by evening if he got started now. From a cabinet Felix pulled a few extra candles, in case the others went out too early. |
Darren slipped past the shelter offered by brick walls with a devilish grin. He was rather looking forward to today's work, after skulking in the shadows for what seemed forever he'd finally gotten the permission to act. He whistled, hands shoved into his dark coat, as he walked rather non-chalantly towards his goal. Yes, the cottage was on the outskirts of the city ... That was why he'd elected to watch his prey from the forest, and it was much easier to approach from behind the house then the front. Darren't work was all about surprise after all.
His fingers brushed against cloth soaked with a sleeping potion. Good, everything lay ready. Lifting a sun browned hand, he knocked quickly at the door. All the while, the would be kidnapper, spy, mercenary, all around jack-of-all-trades, went over his plan. A horse and carriage lay nearby, ready for his burden to be placed inside where it wouldn't be jostled or harmed over much. After that it was on into the mountains where a cave lay ready for the subsequent captivity and information gathering. The king didn't tolerate traitors and the scribe's acceptance of that one document placed him in a rather large circle of conspirators vying for the throne. |
His quill worked yet again, hardly moving a minute amount at a time, magnified eyes switching from finished document to started document. One tiny involuntary twitch would ruin the entire thing, make the document useless. Sometimes he could work the text into the accidental mark the way it was supposed to be, but the deliverer of the original document had made it painfully clear that there could be absolutely no mistakes, or Felix would have to begin again from the top, or not get paid at all and have wasted a week, possibly more. But the way that stranger had looked at him made Felix almost fear for his life... If he didn't get these precise, maybe he'd have to look over his shoulder for a very, very long time. Sighing, he set the quill down and pushed the magnifying goggles up onto his head, rubbing his evening-blue eyes. The writing tended to swim when he stared at it too long... He gasped, jumping, when a sharp series of knocks sounded on his door. It was so rare he had visitors, and he couldn't be expecting the high priest back until tomorrow for his finished work. There was no way that black-clad man would be back, he'd only just received the documents! Shivering a little, Felix stood and rearranged his shirt, stepping around a low table full of books he'd gathered over time, and paused to regain himself, biting his lower lip. Pulling open the wooden door, Felix's eyes widened a little. A dark coat, like the one that had been worn by the document's owner. Was this an extra little threat? He looked young, though, this man, not as hard-faced and puckered as the other. "Um... Hello..." Felix muttered. His voice was rather breathy, low, others would call it soothing if he spoke around them. "Can I help you...?" Maybe Felix was just being paranoid... This man could be lost, after all, nothing more. |
He bowed his head slightly, glancing at the man before him with his amber eyes. A sliver of a smile twisted the young man's sculpted lips up. This wouldn't be so hard. The scribe seemed so frail and unsuspecting of any danger, though that could just be a blind. Darren couldn't go and underestimating him, now could he? That had gotten others into a whole world of trouble, and he didn't like repeating their mistakes.
"Yes, in fact you can, though in order to do so I have to take you away from here." The well muscled man shifted, and made his move. He plucked the cloth from his coat and used it to cover the other man's mouth. Darran's free arm came up and around to both restrict and support the kidnappee as the potion took effect. Once that was done, the tall man lifted his burden with ease and carried him to the waiting cart. After placing blankets and pillows around the prone form, Darren walked to the front of the wooden cart and clicked his tongue to set his plain brown horse into motion. He glanced back to make sure the tarp he'd nailed over the cart hid his burden well, before making his gelding move faster with a quick flick of the reins. It would take a few hours to reach the mountain cave, hopefully the potion lasted that long. Darren had never had the chance to test on anyone before. |
Felix's eyes widened. Take him from here? "What---?" His words were cut off by a gasp, which inhaled a sticky-feeling vapor into his lungs as a damp cloth was pressed against him. It constricted his muscles, weakening his joints and sending him down, but he was too numb to feel anything after that. He saw the trees above his cottage, and they seemed to... fall on him, blacking out his vision, and muffling his hearing. Where was he...? The ground was hard, sort of. Like earth that hadn't had much rain in the past month, and pillowy moss cradled him gently. It was dark, kind of. Like the midnight sky had opened up here and there to reveal a little sunlight, like a cover over daylight. Why did the ground move under him? And why were his arms so... heavy? He couldn't lift them, could hardly lift his eyelids. Wooden wheels...? And... horse hooves. Was he in a carriage? Why...? He had work to do. Had documents to copy. Seven copies by the end of the week... Had he failed? It was so confusing... He couldn't remember... Couldn't even speak... No, he hadn't tried yet. "... H-h...he... Hel-looo...?" Oh, it was so weak... Felix coughed, and closed his eyes again. |
Relief washed through Darren as he reined in the horse in a well hidden clearing, impossible to find from nearly all directions, including above. Once he had unharnessed the horse and set it to grave in the pen he'd made for just such an occasion, the young man walked calmly to the back of the carriage and plucked the sleeping form into his arms and carried it into the cave.
Once inside, he placed the prone scribe into a palette he'd made up at the back of the cave. Before moving away to make a fire, and begin cooking above it, Darren let his hands pluck at the clothing and press against every surface of the other man's body. He never did remove the clothing, though his search for weaponry was quite thorough. Once he was done, Darren slipped a bespelled rope around the frail seeming man's wrists. They were more for keeping him within the cavern, with their spells to keep any save Darren from untying them, then anything else. There would be time for crueler types of binding if the man managed to try and flee. For now, that would suit. |
Where was he now? Things had stopped moving, feeling like a rough sea, like he was under the deck trying to sleep. No, someone was holding him now. Carrying him like a half-empty sack, then on a truly flat, solid surface. It had to be the ground... But it was soft. A strange soft, like... a bed. He couldn't move his head, couldn't raise his hands, but Felix still felt a little more awake. Maybe he was more paralyzed now... But if he were paralyzed, would he be able to feel the stranger's hands against him. No, no, no... That wasn't a good idea... He couldn't do anything, though, and was entirely too thankful when something met his wrists. What was that...? It didn't matter now... Felix was just so tired... He opened his eyes wide after a while. It felt like a month had passed. Finally able to move, Felix glanced down at himself, gasping at the drastic change in scenery. This was not his cottage! Nowhere he'd ever seen... He struggled up, head swimming as if he'd spent a night drinking, but Felix had been working! What...? Someone had come to his door... And kidnapped him! He looked around, flying backward and hitting the rough wall behind him. "Wh-ere am I?" He demanded weakly. "H-hey! Hey..." There was the man, within speaking distance. Felix hated how his voice grew high from worry, fright, horror... How it cracked with fear. |
Darren turned from the stew he had begun to prepare to spare a glance for his captive. "You're comfortable enough." The other man really had no room to complain. Scribes were used to far more comfort then the little cave offered he supposed, but what Darren had gathered would simply have to do. He had hunted to put fresh meat into their stew, and had gathered herbs from the forest. He had even put aside a stock of ale for later, if ever he and the now prisoner ever became friends.. Unlikely as that was.
He did hope that would happen. In his line of work, the versatile man had little chance of meeting anyone who regarded him kindly, without any hint of suspicion. It was quite a false hope, he knew. Darren shook his head at such thoughts. For nowhe needed to try and gather what information he could from the scribe. He should have begun already, but wanted to show in some way that this kidnapping was not all bad. |
Felix shook his head. His hair had come loose of its ribbon and flew in every direction, lightly settling on his shoulders and down his back as he moved. "What!? No! No, where... am I? What'd you do...?" He still felt woozy. His mouth was sticky like he'd eaten too much honey, sweet. He couldn't get a breath in well, and coughed, feeling a strange coating of sweetness on his tongue. That cloth... "Y-you kidnapped... me?" He moved his hands, but each pull sent the rope around his wrists tighter. What would he do? What would he do to Felix? Starve him, hurt him, kill him? He shook hard. 'N-n-no, nono, no..." He was such a fool. Taking that document... It was such a bad idea...! And now Felix was in some horrifying novel plot. Would he be tortured? Felix gasped, bringing up his knees. This couldn't be happening... |
The scribe's incessant mewling at his predicament served only to annoy his captor. Darren rolled his eyes, and continued slicing up the roots he'd gathered. These he then let plop into the stew. Perhaps he was being naive, thinking he could make this turn out positively. He shrugged his shoulders, stretching them lightly. He lifted his hands to ruffle his dark auburn hair, with unevenly cut locks which lay in a perpetual mess. There was no helping it really, and yet Darren always hoped it would be otherwise.
"Of course I did. Now, shall we begin?" He cracked his knuckles and moved to kneel beside the captive. He would start easily, with the easiest of questions. There was cold calculation in Darren's golden eyes as he lifted his hand to strike the other man's face with his palm. "Your name?" He knew it, but wanted to make certain the process of gaining information started smoothly. Much easier to begin with questions you already knew the answer to, to condition the kidnapped into telling the truth every time. |
Felix's wide, evening-sky eyes grew to impossible size, taking in everything he possibly could. There wasn't much to see in the cave beyond the man that had kidnapped him, and he was probably the focal point of the area. He had a mysterious look about him, like someone that existed in the shadows but let the sun touch him as well. A messy look, the hair that wouldn't settle. Like it was perpetually battered by wind. He shrank back. Begin? Begin with what? Felix's jaw reflexively clenched when the man knelt, and he could hardly react before a sharp, hot stinging exploded through his face, the momentum sending him sideways. That was supposed to hurt, wasn't it? Supposed to sting and elicit a sound of pain, but his cry didn't come from pain as much as it did surprise. It didn't... hurt. But even still, the man had struck him, which meant he could do so much more... So much more, and Felix wasn't keen on seeing that. He pushed himself back upright, regarding the man with a knitted brow and shiver. "M-my... name. Felix." Why should he tell him anyway? Felix didn't know his name! But the urge to say it was buried with fear for his life. |
The jack-of-all-trades nodded to himself, as if satisfied that things were as they should be. That was the answer he'd expected, and he was glad to have gotten it. Now to move on to something else, more painful then the simple open handed slap. Darren stood, and kicked the other man hard in the side with more force then he'd intended.
"Tell me about the books you're currently working on, your biggest project." He wondered what he might use next. There were ropes, branches, his knives ... But he preferred saving those for extreme cases, as he reserved the breaking of bones. Darren never did more then was necessary. He was very exact and meticulous, methodical, when it came to completing his work. He sniffed the air lightly and turned to stir the stew before returning his attention to the man he was trying to pry information from. The information was vital to preserve the current order of things. |
Felix narrowed his eyes in study. Tell him about his biggest projects...? Did he know Felix was a scribe? How!? Just how long had this man been watching him...? He felt... violated. Filthy, as if he were completely unclothed and lying free for him to see. It might as well have been that way, if he'd really been watching Felix for long enough. But if he remembered correctly, he'd been told not to tell anyone of his current task. He hadn't asked any questions---some of the people that came to him for documents wanted to keep their things rather private, between the scribe and themselves. "I... I've been working on a tome. Its age leaves it almost unreadable, and it's nearly falling apart." To be fair, the man had asked Felix of his biggest project. Certainly the documents were important, but he would take months to copy that tome, and it was for the kingdom's castle library. It detailed the rise of the empire. |
He crouched down, perturbed by the scribe's lack of reaction. Well then, to test the waters he lifted a knife from it's sheath upon his ankle, and swept it lightly across one high boned cheek. Ruy red bloomed from the small wound, drawing lines across pale skin. "I know that isn't true. Tell me of the many tomes requested by the man in black."
Darren knew he revealed the fact that he knew more then he let on. Good, that would be warning that he did indeed know some things, and was ready to learn more by any means. He cracked a smile, cold and ruthless. His eyes did indeed seem like gold, but not the warm polished kind anymore. He would find out what he had been requested to by the rightful ruler of the lands. |
Felix's eyes widened at the sight of silver. Silver blade. He twitched hard when it met his face, and gasped, feeling an entirely unexpected sensation of pleasure rattle through him and the tickle of blood make him growl lightly. Felix pulled his legs up tighter, shrinking back. "All I... I do... i-is write and... copy..." His heart was beating so fast Felix could hardly find the breath to speak. The knife... he couldn't stop looking at it, then looking at the man. Why? "I... I d-do-on't know... why... you... why you're so... interested." He wanted to be cut again... Cut again, maybe down the back... Just imagining it made his head spin, and his face flush. But he couldn't... admit that. What kind of freak actually enjoyed pain...? |
"And to do that you must understand what you write, musn't you?" He needed to find out what those documents held within. The growl made him think that the scribe was actually beginning to get angry. In a way that could be enjoyable. For the scribe's stuttering grated on his nerves more with every passing moment. That was probably the reason why he turned his blade to the scribe's hands and slashed across the tip of a finger, then another.
He knew from experience how painful writing could be after suffering such cuts. The learning of such things had been necessary, but unwelcome. Darren had needed to build up his resistance to pains and poisons to become one of the best spies the king had, or rather the spymaster had. |
Felix gasped, snatching his hand back after the second searing pain. It just didn't hurt, that pain. It felt good, but if he even admitted that... He shook his head hard, and his hair stuck to where the cut on his face was still oozing blood and sending small stabs through his body. "I only do what I'm... told." Felix panted a bit, fighting off sudden and extremely powerful urges he hadn't ever really understood. It was why he had put himself so far away from the rest of the city, why he had become more of a recluse... And this wasn't the way a normal---or seeming normal---person should act! They should fear pain, not enjoy it or seek it out. "I don't ask questions!" He barked. "I do what I'm told!" He only ever did what he was told, it was so much easier. |
Darren tilted his head to the side, frustration passing through his eyes. He wasn't getting the reactions he wanted, and he certainly didn't expect more anger as he went on. In fact, people usually reacted in quite the opposite manner. The more Darren pressed them, the more they gave and acted fearfully. What was it with this scribe? Why did he act in exactly the opposite way then others would?
The spy shrugged and bent to let his knife play across the skin of the scribe's calf. It was nowhere vital, but if he let the dagger slip just a bit ... He pressed a little harder then he'd intended at the thought, and lifted amber eyes quickly to watch how Felix would react. Darren was beginning to suspect the man he'd captured was very odd, when compared to the average person. |
Felix twitched, watching with wide eyes as the kidnapper took the blade down his leg a little. Why didn't he feel more of an urgent need to get out? Why was his mind so clouded? It didn't make sense, but as the tip of the blade dug into him, Felix gasped, and accidentally let out a moan. The sensation was more of a warm electricity than pain, spreading up and down his limbs, then into his torso. he couldn't back away from it for the rough wall against his back. And if the man kept it up, he'd make a rather unexpected discovery at one of Felix's ankles. His pupils were dilated as he regarded the dark-clothed man, and he couldn't quite control his tongue: "I don't... know what you want." He sighed, and looked down a little, and 'accidentally' twitched his leg, moving it forward and into the blade a little more. He choked back another sound. |
Had his prisoner just ...? Darren pulled back and regarded the scribe with fascination. Now this was something he didn't think he could have anticipated, and he still wasn't sure if what he suspected was true. Absentmindedly, he wiped off the blade and cleaned it as he thought of what to do next. He could continue and see just what would happen, or he could try and devise others means of finding out information.
The spy sighed. He was too curious not to keep things going on as they were, and ... dare he say he found the situation somewhat enticing for all its unpredictability. "I think I know what you want. You like this, don't you? Let's try something hm? You tell me what I want, and I'll do more of this." He let the blade's side glide down the cuts he'd created on the scribe's leg, then lower nearer bone. He twisted then, letting the knife's honed edge do what it did best in a non life threatening spot, and yet painful one. This was the oddest reaction he'd ever encountered, Darran didn't really know what to think of it or how to react other then in the way he was. |
Felix regarded the knife almost longingly, opening his mouth to protest the cleaning of the knife as if it would be put away. Why would he put it away? Wasn't there more to this? Isn't it how the books went? All those spy stories about kidnapped secret agents, tortured for days, sometimes weeks, so much worse than just... this! His arms felt weak, as if he'd taken a sleeping mixture and was fighting the effects as they slowly set in. A compromise? But he didn't know... "I just... I just... do what I'm told" He gasped, sighing as the tip of the blade dug into his bone. Why did it feel so... good? "I... They came to me this morning. They... t-they said they wanted... seven documents made. S-seven just like the first." If he got it all out, maybe he'd garner some kind of favor. He'd know Felix wasn't... a spy or some other sort. "They said not to tell anyone about it and I had to get it done in a week, absolutely no mistakes." He bit his lip, and thought back as well as he could. "Um... they... came to me before. Dozens of times. Wanted certain things replicated, but never so... fast. I don't know anything else..." Something squirmed. It slid against his ankle and around the back of his foot. Not that... |
"Oh you must know something more." The murmur was a soft one as he watched the other man's expression. The scribe looked almost blissful when he felt the edge... He did seem to enjoy it all quite tremendously. How could he not comply after being such a well of information?
Darren glanced down at where his blade still rested, and frowned. He lifted the hilt, and smashed it against the thing he saw, and at the same time hit the wound he'd just made. Then he grabbed it once he realized it wasn't a snake, and tugged. With a mixture of fascination and horror, Darren realized what it was. A tail! Shaking his head, he regarded his captive with a raised eyebrow. "Well well well, seems like you've been holding out on me." Without thinking he bent his head to nibble and bite at the tail, just to see if the rumors he'd heard of such being were true. |
Felix brought his leg back a little too late---he'd seen it. It didn't stop the man from trying to hit it like a bit of vermin and connecting with the bone on his ankle, making Felix actually twitch. "N-no, no, I haven't---" His assurances were cut quick by a cry, a less-than-desperate sound, and he reflexively threw his head backward, connecting with the wall behind him, constricting his muscles and clenching his jaw. It had sent him over the edge, and now he had to sit with a warm, uncomfortable sensation below the belt and a hot face that had grown red from embarrassment, a heart that felt as if it were trying to beat out of his chest. His tail was probably the most sensitive part on his body. So many nerve endings in such a thin thing, it tended to create awkward situations if he didn't stuff it down one of his pant legs so no one could touch it accidentally. His own manipulation of the member didn't create such a powerful reaction---perhaps because it was just part of him. But he'd done more than touch his tail. Felix pulled it back, shifting slightly despite the disgusting feeling. |
Darren couldn't help himself, he chuckled slightly and shook his head. "Hm, are you going to want to leave after this, I wonder? How many would want to indulge you in your particular tastes?" As he spoke, the spy cleaned his knife once more and this time resheated it. Then he moved to stir the stew and taste. Just a while longer.
He returned to Felix with a bowl of water and a cloth, along with a jar of ointment. These he used to take care of the scribe's various wounds. "There is a river nearby. I'll take you to wash later, and you can wear some of my old clothing." He didn't mention that he would have to wash what Felix had been wearing, or rather he would make Felix wash it. |
Felix didn't like moving now. Didn't like it at all. But he had to, twisting a little to his back and bringing his tail up and out of his clothes. What use was it now that the man had already seen it---touched it? Why had he even done it? Was he looking for that explosion? Felix didn't know, didn't want to ask, even as he had to look at his captor as his light wounds were cleaned. They would heal in a couple hours anyway, and he didn't contract the same diseases humans did. Or, any disease, for that matter. He made a bit of a face at the words. Well, at least he'd get a river visit for his accident. But it wasn't much of an accident when his kidnapper had forced it to happen... Felix shivered, looking away when his facial wounds were cleaned and throwing his head to the side to get it out of his face. It shone a little red at a certain place, from where it had stuck to the blood flowing from his face. He'd certainly have to clean his clothes, yes, if only to clean away his humiliation. Why had he gotten into this...? How was a better question, but he knew his captor wouldn't go about answering it. |
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