Burning Broken Chains: Rising Ashes

By J. P. Garland All Rights Reserved ©

Fantasy / Adventure

Chapter 6: Zorrie Panatell Part 2

I turn around to face the de Eramont face to face, and he stops in his tracks, right foot first. There’s about half a length between us.

“...my name is Zorri...Zorri Panatell,” I say shyly.

“Panatell? You don’t strike me for a noble.”

“Panatell has a policy of calling all Pryias after Panatell, therefore giving us the House name,” I correct.

“Oh well, that’s a very kind gesture from them. Ahhh I wouldn’t suppose you get any share or piece of the property pie at a certain age?”

I shake my head to say “no”.

“Yeah, not a surprise there. Somewhat pointless to give someone a noble name and nothing else with it. Never been a fan of the Panatells, anyways,” he angrily retorts before starting to walk past me.

I stand there open mouth looking like a fish out of water gasping for air. Did he say something that implied anti-noble rhetoric? He could get in trouble for speaking Kurreos.

I jog back up to him and walk alongside.

“Why is that, sir Kiritoss?”

Kiritoss is Calerian for a master, particularly male masters, Kiritossie is a female master. Regardless of who’s your actual master, Pryias are supposed to refer to all nobles as either Kiritoss, sir Kiritoss, Kiritossie or ma’am Kiritossie.

He looks at me for a minute as if to say “you’re their Pryia, surely you know.”

“I never got on with their son who was in my education classes, first off. The kid was an arsehole then, and he’s an arsehole now. I only go to those parties because my father forced me to so I met girls because what better place to meet suitable mates than a building filled with cousin fuckers,” he says with a roll of the eyes.

I chuckle in response to the sounds of a noble complaining about the responsibility of finding a partner.

I was about to say something rebellious and dangerous for a Pryia like me to say when suddenly we hear yelling from behind us.

“Get behind me. Now!” the young noble yells at me before I even get the chance to see what the problem is and what that yelling was about.

I grab hold of his left arm which is stretched back towards me, it doesn’t protect me any more than if I don’t, but it helps calm me. I lean to my left to see what’s approaching.

I scout out three fast approaching Rachkers with swords, maces and axes in hand.

Kiritoss Aron pulls out his sword to arm himself.

My heart is racing even faster than when I was worried what would happen to me for knocking sir Kiritoss unconscious. I feel my blood being pumped at the speed of light. My instincts are telling me to run, but I feel Aron’s left hand holding onto my shirt. He doesn’t want me to leave, but why?

The angry redness in the sky is starting to dull back into a more rain cloud sky.

I feel a brisk breeze blow through behind me. Its coldness freshens me after putting up with such immense heat for the past twenty minutes. The wind picks up sir Kiritoss’ fur coat into the air. It makes him look like a brave hero.

I stare at him with such admiration. Pryias all grow up wanting to wield our own weapon and fight for some kind of pride.

My daze is taken away when I hear the loud screams of the attacking Rachker with an axe ready to swing.

I close my eyes, so I don’t see what happens next. I hear Aron’s grunting alongside sounds of metal clashing with one another. I hear a loud thud hit the ground and I open my eyes to see Aron has, without hurting, incapacitated the Rachker.

The next two run towards us, Kiritoss let’s go of my shirt, and I reclaim my hands from his arm to free him.

“Bring it mother fuckers,” Aron screams as he lurches forward at the mace-wielding Rachker.

The Rachker swings from his right to take out Aron before he’s taken out, but Aron quickly dodged to the left with a spin.

He bypasses the mace holder and takes the sword holder off guard and knocks his sword out of his hands.

Aron then swings back around to face the mace wielder. But it’s too late; he’s found a new target, me!

My instincts kick in, and I turn to run. I can hear the Rachker yell abuse at me from behind.

I run towards the alleyway on the left that I was going to leave Kiritoss Aron in earlier.

I run down it’s dark, wet and gloomy tunnels. The ground is covered with so much water there must be a leak in a pipe nearby. The is so little light in here, and I can only tell where there is a wall and where there is a path.

Oh no, I’ve come to a stop there’s a wall in the way. This alley must be one-way.

I curse to myself when suddenly I feel myself being pushed right up against the wall. The wet bricks are so cold I fear if I’ll be ill if I make it out. My lower back is coursing with pain as I feel a strong hand push against it.

It begins to pour down rain from the newly formed rainclouds after the firestorm dissipated. That would explain why it’s so dark in here too.

My clothes aren’t enough to fend off the water that’s crashing down upon my body. Now I’m even colder, despite being pushed against the wet, brown mud bricks. My body is thunderously shivering from the sudden drop in body temperature.

I hear a creepy croaky laugh from behind.

“Well well well, looks like I’ve found a pretty young Pryia up to no good stuck in the dark.”

By the gods, he’s going to take advantage of me I know it. My heart is still pounding as fast as it was when preparing for the Rachker’s attack.

I feel something sharp and cold against my right leg.

“How about we split those legs apart, shall we?” the Rachker creepily whispers.

He’s tapping my legs with his mace to separate them. I feel like vomiting, but I also can’t feel anything at the same time. I don’t know what to do, is there anything I can do, I’m stuck, I’m trapped.

I separate my legs apart slowly while they shake violently.

My eyes begin to tear up with fear and sickness. Why did this day have to exist? I can’t feel anything in my body, I’ve come too close to the freezing edge. My lips have numbed, and I can barely feel my cheek scraping along the tall brick wall.

The straps that tie the Rachker’s breastplate slap the air as their loosened quickly making a “sweesh” sound. There’s a sudden thud as the metallic apparel smashes into the brick ground behind me.

“There we go...good girl,” I hear him tugging at his pants straps to loosen them.

I close my eyes as if not seeing it will make it easy to forget. My eyes are starting to swell up with tears. The stinging from the tears are burning my eyes making my crying even worse.

“Ahh, there we go. Now where were w-” he’s cut off by something.

I feel a lack of strength behind his hand. In fact, I don’t feel his hand pushing me against the wall anymore.

I carefully turn around to face the horrible man.

His face looks strained as he tries to breathe in. His mouth covered in blood that’s been coughed up. And sticking out from where his right lung would be is a blade poking out.

His hand reaches out to me, his eyes look longingly at me looking for help. He looks like an executed criminal punished for his crimes.

I grab his hand and snap his pointer finger.

He screams aloud in response. A blood-curdling cry fills the atmosphere around us.

Then the sword is twisted and pushed down towards the ground where he without contest collapses on top of his lying breastplate. The Rachkers collapsing body shows a young man behind him.

Aron stands there hands by his side, unequipped after leaving the sword in the fallen Rachker.

The pouring rain has made his short brunette hair fall on his head giving him an entirely unappealing fringe. I would laugh if he weren’t a noble and if I hadn’t just escaped being the victim of rape.

He gives me a look that indicates that he can see the difference between the rain on my face and the tears checkered around my eyes and cheeks.

He walks up to me and embraces me.

I stand there motionless, is this happening, is this day actually reality or am I dreaming...or having a nightmare? A noble hugging a Pryia for whatever reason is unheard of, he would be extradited from his family, his House and the whole noble class.

“I’m sorry,” he says with a high pitch yelp at the end as if he’s tearing up.

He’s now apologising to me! What the fuck is going on here!

I stand there in his arms and don’t say anything in reply. I feel his warmth emanate from his body like an internal inferno. I’ve never been embraced by anyone other than my mother and little brother. I will admit, though, this does feel nice like I could exist just right here forever.

He finally takes his arms away from what felt like a year, a happy year in comparison to the past few minutes.

“You’re freezing, and look at you you’re quivering from the cold. Come with me I’ll take you somewhere safe,” Aron says to me as if him hugging me was purely research in my current condition.

I nod in response. I’ve been wholly enveloped and entranced by his warmness.

We travelled for another twenty minutes, going down some house streets to bypass Rachkers. We don’t say a single word to each other except the occasional notifying that we were clear to cross a road or something without being seen. I’ve noticed that Kiritoss Aron is continuously looking around checking for something. He said he’s making sure there aren’t any Rachkers, but the way he keeps looking didn’t seem cautious and calculated like the look he has when we need to get past Rachkers. His eyes appear worried that they weren’t seeing what they should be seeing.

We finally approached, after much slugging through the streets as rain poured down upon us, a house that Aron must live in or else we wouldn’t be approaching it.

The building is two-storied, the walls are made out of white plastering with dark wooden foundations on the top, bottom and sides of every cubic section along the walls. The roof is a typical triangular shaped structure with faded black and brown roofing tiles. The door is made out of dark brown wood with a little window near the top of it. There are two windows on the second floor, which must be two rooms.

“We’ll take the entrance out the back, okay,” I nod in response, too cold to make any other one.

We walk around the back quietly, past the front garden and shadowing the fence that runs around the property. We take cover under the overhanging second floor.

“Alright my room is right above, I just need to get the window opened, and we can climb through.”

I’m still confused as to why he is okay with helping a Pryia, let alone let her into his room.

The de Eramont runs back into the rain to retrieve a small, light brown, wooden table that would be used for outside lunch on a beautiful day. The table could have eight people seated at it, two on each side as long as the seats are long enough. The wood has yet to be appropriately varnished, it appears rugged and faded.

Aron pulls it up the overhanging room and jumps on top. It’s not very tall, but it’s enough for him to reach the window and push it open.

Aron grabs onto the windowsill, and his body begrudgingly allows him to pull himself up into the room. I hear a sudden thud as he hits the floor.

“Okay, now it’s your turn,” he calls out to me from inside the room.

I scale the small lunch table and reach out to the window. I grab onto the windowsill and pull myself in.

My right foot is digging into the outside clay plastered wall of the room. I give a massive push off with my foot to gain the momentum to make my entrance.

My foot slips and I begin to fall back down.

I look down so I could at least land in some safe position.

Two arms reach out and grab my shirt and pulls me in. I tumble into the unfamiliar room.

My eyes flicker as if I have something stuck in them. When my eyes start to calm down and stay focused I realise I’m laying on top of Aron.

“All my gods, I’m so sorry,” I jump up and walk backwards, stopping as soon as I feel the window behind me, I don’t want to fall again.

Aron gets up with a smile on his face. The smile is mocking me.

“Oh and I had thought you were in love with me,” he says mockingly to me.

Ohhh if he weren’t a noble, I would wallop him so hard.

Aron walks over to a large closet in the middle of the right-side white plastered wall. The closet is a dark brown shade of colour. It reaches the top of the two lengths high wall to the roof. The knobs are just plain wooden round knobs mimicking the colour of the closet.

It seems peculiar to me because the Panatell’s houses are filled with elegant furniture that all look glamorous and beautiful, but this seems cheap. Granted I am a Pryia so calling something cheap shouldn’t be a thought that comes to mind.

Aron opens the right door to the closet and follows with opening the left. I can’t see what’s inside but from the look of the inside of the doors, dusty. The inside of the doors is covered in dust that makes it look like the closet hasn’t been opened for years.

Aron turns around to face me allowing me to get a small glimpse of the insides of the closet. The second long glance I got only revealed that he has a black suit that would be for those parties and dinners.

“I’m just gonna have a look downstairs, while I’m gone you should get changed. I’m sorry, but I don’t have a sister around your height, so you’ll have to wear something of mine. It’s better than being in those drenched clothes you’ve got on.”

“...ummm...okay then. Is there anything just basic and warm in there?”

“Yeah, there’s some warm pyjamas in there. I don’t wear them anyway. My grandmother keeps giving me pyjamas, despite how much I’ve told her I don’t wear them anymore.”

“Okay, thank you.”

Aron takes off towards another dark brown wood door that must lead out of the room.

He slams the door behind him almost on purpose to wake up anyone who is also here.

As I look around his room, I notice that when I had fallen into the room, we landed not too far from the side of Aron’s bed. The bed rests with the head end against the left wall. The bed could fit two people in it with some extra roll space. The idea of sleeping in a double bed alone is weird to me. Pryia couples have no choice but to share a single bed regardless of them being together.

The bed is in a state of crisis as the white sheets are just thrown all over the place, and the white pillow is at the other end of the bed. The black blanket is rolled into a ball and placed on top of the pillow. The sheets and pillowcase appear to be made of linen while the blanket must be made from either the fur of a bear or a wolf.

The bedside table on the other side is a small little wooden table, which has been either varnished lately or is new, it supports three thick books stacked messily atop of each other.

The top book, the thickest, is a dark blue, while the other two appear to be a light brown.

The walls have faded in colour, and they look like some little child has touched them with dirty hands, slightly darkening the walls.

There’s another dark brown wooden piece of furniture on the opposing wall. It appears to have a glass door like a cabinet. Inside I can see books of all different sizes and colours, even some scrolls.

Next, to the cabinet on the right, there is a small sword stand. It’s empty, that must be where Aron puts his sword.

I walk over to the dark brown, cheap, closet and look through the clothes options hanging on a horizontal black wood slider pole. There’s a fur coat, another suit for parties, a black tunic, a light brown tunic, a set of pyjamas.

“Ahh, this must be what he meant!” I exclaim excitedly.

I pick them off the pole and take them over to the bed to lay them out nicely before undressing. I realise how much of a real oxymoron thinking that is since the bed looks like a war took place on it. But regardless I lay them out neatly on the corpse that was once a respectful bed. Maybe I should teach Aron how to make his bed of properly.

The pyjamas are possibly the most beautiful pair of pyjamas I’ve ever seen. The seams and buttons are coloured gold, though I doubt they’re made of gold. The woollen navy blue material that makes up the rest of the pyjamas feels warm just in my hands. The pattern that makes up the pyjamas show that it was hand woven skillfully. Such a beautiful job Aron’s grandmother has done, I wish she could teach me. I’m decent at making clothes, but this is so much better.

I must have stood there for several minutes staring at the clothes because Aron knocks on the door, I quickly jump in reaction.

I calm myself and look at the door.

“Hey, are you dressed now?”

“Oh no sorry, I took a while to find the pyjamas. I’ve found them now though.”

“Alright, I’ll come back in fifteen.”

“Okay then.”

I stay looking at the door. It’s just a basic dark brown wooden door. No steel frames, there is, however, a steel part that would be the lock and handle.

I get the feeling that the de Eramont House isn’t a very rich noble House.

I look back to the pyjamas on the bed and exhale. Welp, I’ve gotta get out of these clothes eventually. I reach down and grab the bottom of my water filled shirt, and pull it up over my head.

My breasts slam back down against my chest as soon as they’re free of the wet clothing. My nipples appear pointed and hard due to being exposed to the air that feels freezing after being covered in water.

I poke at my right nipple lightly, and it feels rock hard.

As I keep poking it, I feel pulsations of heat go through my body, but the warm energy feels amazing. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up straight. I try to pull myself away from the temptations that I’ve brought upon myself, but it’s too late already.

I quickly rip off my pants, grab the pyjama pants and pull them halfway up.

Next, I grab the woollen top and unbutton the luxurious gold buttons, put on the top but leave it undone.

I throw the drenched clothed to the side, grab the pillow and throw myself onto the bed. Rest the pillow against the wall of the bed and lean against it.

Next thing I know I’m squeezing and tugging at my nipples, the feelings of euphoria fill me with such joy. I have forgotten my surroundings as I’ve closed my eyes. I begin to forget what I’m even doing, where I am, who I was with, and any figment of what has happened in the past hour.

I start to trace around my nipples slowing.

I push myself against the pillow further and further each time I do a full circle.

I reach down between my legs and start to play with myself. It’s considered inappropriate for a woman regardless of class to enjoy herself. However, the way I see it is as long as no one knows, then there won’t be any problems.

I slide down laying my back on the bed and stroke myself.

I massage my left breast with my left hand, now and then tugging at the nipple.

“...” I begin to moan quietly from the euphoric aura I’m feeling.

I make different patterns with my right hand causing me to gasp for air each time. Once I’ve found the direction that pleases me most I increase my speed, faster and faster. My moans are growing louder and sometimes turn to squeals.

“...”

“...”

I find it hard to breathe; I’m almost there. Within another minute of doing the same thing over and over, the tension is released, and a massive rush of energy shoots across my body faster than lightning. It goes for another minute or so, filling me with joy and relaxation.

I lay there panting, breathing in breathing out. The grin on my face stretches across from both sides. It’s been a long time since I had a chance to do that, since all the Pryias sleep in the same room at the Panatell residence. It’s a big room that sort of fits all of us. It makes pleasing one’s self quite tricky.

As my heart starts to slow down and stop feeling like it’s about to jump out of my chest, I can hear the pouring rain coming down again.

I begin to rub my breasts again when I recognise a sound nearby. It sounds like footsteps; it must be Aron.

I can’t let him see me like this, I quickly pull up the pyjama pants and begin to button up the top. I finish the last button when I hear a knock at the door.

“Aye is everything okay in there now?”

“Ahhh yeah you’re all good,” I say with a strain of fear in each word, still shaken from the shock of possibly being seen.

The door opens, and in walks Aron, he smiles when he sees me looking comfortable on his bed.

Aron walks over to the sword stand, takes off his sheathed sword and places it in the sword stand before turning back around to face me.

“Already making yourself home, I see,” he chuckles to himself as he turns back around towards the closet.

He approaches the closet and grabs a pair of clothes. It’s the light brown tunic and some dark brown pants.

He turns around to notice the wet heap laying on the ground near the closet.

I sit up straight prepared to apologise.

“I’ll chuck these on the line when it clears up.”

“Wait no you can’t do that.”

“Mind explaining why that is?”

“Because their Pryia clothes.”

“And?”

“It’s considered wrong for a noble to have to do a Pryia’s washing.”

“Don’t you think I already knew that? I’m simply ignoring “tradition”.”

I sit there again in bewilderment, astonished by Aron’s lack of concern towards “tradition”.

“I’ll go grab you a rag to dry your hair,” Aron says as he walks out the room without closing the door.

He left his chosen clothes on the floor of the closet. That’s when I notice the flooring is a lovely varnished timber floor made up of many timber slats. So I guess some things here are nice. Thanks to the varnish the floor shines a nice light brown.

I look down at the clothes I’m wearing and notice that I’ve incorrectly buttoned them, leaving the bottom button hanging down. No wonder Aron was laughing, he was laughing at me.

I quickly adjust the changes before anyone could see me admit my signs of embarrassment.

I stare out the window to see that the rain has lightened in weight, but it is still pouring.

Aron enters again with heavy feet pounding along the timber floor.

“Here you go,” I turn back around to accept the rag.

I start rubbing my hair violently with the rag hoping it’ll achieve some progress.

“I’m just going to go get dressed now. I’ll be in the room two doors down. Knock if you need anything.”

I nod along with my shaking head to dry my hair and show that I’ve understood.

He walks out with his clothes this time, and I notice that my heap is still lying there.

I get up to grab them, trying hard not to let the water drip too much.

I bring them to the window which is still open. Hang the soaked clothes out but still under the overhanging roof and wring them out. It gets most of the water out, but they are still moist and wet.

It’s still raining, so it’s pointless to even try and adequately dry them. I leave the clothes laid out neatly by the closet and wipe up the wet patch on the floor where the drenched heap previously was with the rag.

I leave the rag on the floor and return to the bed.

I decide to neatly make the bed so that it’s no longer a horrible eyesore. I tuck the white sheets and black blanket in between the two mattresses. Nobles get two mattresses to ensure nothing under them hurts their back. Pryias on the other hand only gets the one mattress.

I straighten the sheets and blanket, so it covers the rest of the bed.

I stretch myself on the bed, using up as much of the double bed that I can. Oh, it feels great to be able to lay on a comfy bed so big where I can lay with my arms and legs spread like a star.

I feel myself giving into the darkness and eventually closing my eyes, falling asleep.

I wonder if the world will be the same when I reemerge from my darkness.

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