Soulseer Chapter 1: Tess

Non-Erotic Chapter - Fantasy Fiction

The pain came first, sharp and agonizing. Head, wrists, elbows, ankles, throat. There was something in her mouth. Some sort of rag, bitter and awful. Poison? She knew the taste, or at least the smell of it. It gagged her, making breathing difficult, and thinking nearly impossible.

She struggled instinctively, twisting against her bonds, heart pounding wildly in her chest, like some small animal caught in a trap. Her breathing was ragged and frantic.

No. She had to be calm. She had been trained for this, or at least something like this.

“Tessan,” her aunt Rachel would say, “don’t struggle. Just think. Use your senses. Remember what I taught you; calm, quiet, careful, think.” Thinking of Aunt Rachel calmed her. She wasn’t really her aunt, but was still the only family Tess had ever known.

Calm, quiet, careful. Think.

She was bound and gagged, confined in something small. Walls on her sides and against her back. The smell of wood, not new, but old and slightly musty. She moved slowly and carefully, testing her bonds and attempting to feel out the walls around her. She moved her knees slightly. They bumped against another wall in front of her, the movement jerking the rope more tightly around her throat.

Panic hit her, suddenly and completely. She struggled, the rope tightening even more.

No! Stop. Breathe. Calm, quiet, careful, think. Her aunt’s mantra and one she thought she’d never need. But right now it was all she had.

She couldn’t be calm, but she could be careful and quiet. She had to think. She focused on her breathing, slowing it to steady her heart. Calm, quiet, careful, think.

Where was she? How had she got here? How much danger was she in? The rope at her throat, tightening with every movement told her the danger was real.

She was confined to some sort of tunnel or box. No, don’t think of coffins. Just a box. She listened, hearing nothing, slowly working against the rag in her mouth. It shifted slowly, but began to give way. She tried not to focus on the taste, least it truly gag her. It was slipping, gradually allowing her jaw a little freedom.

Then, a sound from outside the box. A moan, muffled, but clearly female. Another moan, and then suddenly, the sound of thrashing movement and a stifled yelp.

Shay!

The last thing she remembered was sitting at her aunt’s table next to Shay, looking over carefully copied text, some of it in a language and script that Tess had never seen. She had been watching Shay laugh, tossing her long blond hair and joking about... what? Somehow, it seemed important, but she couldn’t think past the awful rag in her mouth, the pain at her throat, and the sound of Shay, still struggling in a box next to hers.

Tess worked carefully at the rag, ridding her self of it hit by bit. Finally, thankfully, it slipped past the cloth tie that bound it, freeing her mouth and letting in a gasp of precious air. She took a long, haggard breath, tasting....

Chokeroot! Of course! How could she have forgotten. She’d known this herb from childhood, though it was rarely used in any village she’d ever known. The effects were short lived, but awful.

She coughed, took another deep breath, and managed to speak.

“Shay!” Her whisper was out of both necessity and the effects of the chokeroot. “Shay, stop. Listen. It’s Tess. Stop struggling. You’ll strangle yourself!”

She could only imagine the pain Shay was in. Tess could hardly speak herself, and she’d struggled only a moment. Shay was still moving, frantic and terrified.

“Shay, please, trust me. You have to stop.”

Suddenly the sounds of struggling stopped and Tess heard only the faintest, ragged, stifled breathing. At least she was breathing.

“I’m going to get us out of here. Just relax your body and focus on breathing. Can you do that?”

A soft moan that sounded like consent. Thank the gods.

Tess turned back to her bonds. Her initial struggle had caused the rope at her throat to tighten and created just the smallest bit of slack, not around, but near her wrists. She felt around with the side of her hand, slowly, gently, carefully. After a minute of fumbling, blind and in pain, the truth became clear, unpleasant as it was. If she wanted to move her hands more, she was going to need more slack. Her heart raced again. She knew where that slack would come from.

Two deep breaths.

“Shay, you’re doing great. We’re going to get out of this. I promise. But I may not be able to talk for a minute or two. It’s okay. Just keep breathing and stay still.”

A moan, small and helpless. Good, she was still conscious.

Another long, deep breath. And then one more. Calm, quiet, careful, NOW! Tess pulled hard with her arms, creating more slack at her wrists. But for a moment, it didn’t matter. The instant she moved, the rope jerked around her neck , crushing her throat. Her vision flooded with red, then darkened at the edges as the pain overwhelmed her. She was going to pass out. She couldn’t breathe. She was going to die in this box. This coffin.

They were both going to die, and she had promised Shay that they’d get out of this alive. Somehow that mattered even more than the fact that she was going to die. She never broke a promise, least of all, to Shay.

‘Shay,’ she thought, ‘I’m so sorry.’

A vision came to her through the haze, fuzzy at first, but clearing gradually. Home. Rachel’s table. Her own face, looking up at her, smiling and confident. This wasn’t her own memory. Could it somehow be Shay’s?

Despair gave way to new feelings. Faith, trust, hope, and friendship. Those weren’t hers either. They seemed to be coming from outside of herself, pressing in on her. The emotions may not be hers, but she could use them.

One more pull. That was all she needed.

Tess pulled with all the strength she had left, felt the ropes give, and twisted. Her hands slipped suddenly free, the shock of it slamming them against the wood. No matter. She could finally move. She pulled her hands out in front of her, feeling at the front of the box for some way to open it. There were no handles, no hinges, no edges to grasp. Nothing. Fresh panic swept over her, but she controlled her breathing and kept trying, pushing and hitting against the wall, looking for a weak spot. Then, a creak. The wall before her gave way, just slightly. Maybe a fingernail’s depth. But that was something. She worked the spot with her hands, her fists, pushing, pounding, fighting with renewed determination. Another creak of the wood, the sound of metal giving way, and then, just the barest sliver of light.

That light meant hope and life. It meant that she was one breath closer to reaching Shay. Her fists pounded harder and faster than she thought she could move. The sliver of light grew steadily until she could see a gap large enough to fit her hand through. She grabbed the edge of the wood and pushed with all her strength, splinters driving their way into her palm. Finally, the thin wall gave way and she shoved it away, hearing it clatter to the floor.

The rope at her throat was slack, but still there. She grasped it firmly, pulling it over her head and casting it aside. Then, finally able to sit upright, she did the same for the ropes at her feet, kicking them aside. She was free! Now she had to find Shay.

Tess surveyed the room taking in every detail. It seem to be a cellar of some sort, with high brick walls, a plain dirty floor, and a single door across the room. The only light came from around the edges of the door, but it was enough. She could see a single low wood shelf across the room and on the floor next to it, another big wooden box.

Shay!

Tess scrambled to her feet, finding her legs numb and unsteady. She made her way across the room and fell to her knees in front of the box. Like her own box, it was simple and crudely made, only the internal workings differentiating it from a basic coffin. The thought of Shay trapped inside it filled Tess with a white hot fury like nothing she had ever known.

She took in the crude box with its thin wooden lid, nailed on in apparent haste, and acted quickly. She reached for her boot and found that she still had her blade, the little knife given to her by Rachel so long ago. “For protection,” Rachel had said, placing the blade in Tess’s hand. “Don’t ever lose it.” She had shown Tess how to use it in self defense, teaching her how and where to cut or stab to do the most damage as efficiently as possible. It had seemed a weird lesson at the time. No one ever tried to hurt Tess. No one even really talked to her.

Tess and Rachel had always lived in a little house on the outskirts of a little village. Visitors were few and always came with little tasks for them to do to earn a modest living. Clothes to wash and mend, herbs to dry, and occasionally meat to clean and prepare. Every once in a while, a child would come with their mother or father and spend an afternoon with Tess. But those visits always ended before Tess could find true friendship, and before she knew it, she and Rachel would be packing their things and on the road, looking for another little house on the outskirts of another little town. Rachel would never say why or even allow Tess to ask. It was simply time to go. Nothing more would ever be said on the matter.

But then one day, everything changed.

A girl came from the local training house, to help with the chores, or so Rachel had said. She was blonde and beautiful, with a quick smile and a bubbly, bright energy that swept Tess up with every new bit of excitement, no matter how small. A new trainee at the training house, a bit of gossip overheard, a new stitch learned in sewing or a new dish she’d learned to prepare all brought a bit of light and laughter to Tess’s life. Through Shay, Tess felt like she was finally a part of something outside of their little house.

When Tess finally opened up to her about her loneliness and the frustrations of constantly moving and Rachel’s stubborn silence on the matter, Shay listened. She understood. She shared her own frustrations and fears. And for once, Tess felt understood. When Shay brought her little trinkets from the market or interesting rocks or flowers she had found, Tess felt truly loved. In just a few short months, Tess found her frustrations and loneliness melting away, and it was all because of Shay.

But now, Shay was silent and still, locked in a rough wooden box in a damp, empty cellar and Tess was prying at the edges of the box, tears streaming down her face, heedless of sharp edges and splinters. She had to reach her friend and free her from the ropes that she knew all too well were biting into her skin and pressing at her throat.

“Please,” Tess found her self saying, “please, please, be okay.”

She used the knife for leverage, prying at the edges of the lid, till the knife slipped against her palm, cutting deep. Then she cut a strip of fabric from her dress, wrapped it around her hand to staunch the slick red blood, and kept prying, until finally, thankfully, a nail gave way and she was able to get her fingers beneath the edge of the lid.

Shay was still terrifyingly quiet. Tess pried at the lid, pulling hard to loosen the nails. Before long, another nail gave way, and then another. With one more pull, the lid came away, revealing Shay’s small, still form, bound and bruised, but thankfully still breathing.

Tess reached for her knife again, deftly cutting the ropes that held her and pulling Shay up into her arms.

“Shay,” she said, brushing blonde hair away from Shay’s face, “please wake up. Please, be okay.”

Shay moaned slightly, her hand coming up to touch the large purple bruises at her throat.

“Tess,” she said, her voice no more than a whisper, “I knew you’d save me.”

Tess pulled Shay to her chest, suddenly sobbing with relief and lingering fear. They weren’t safe. Not yet. They were still trapped in this cold, dark room. She didn’t need to try the door to know that it would be locked firmly with unknown dangers waiting on the other side.

Shay opened her eyes, finally taking in the room.

“Where are we?” She asked.

“I don’t know,” Tess said, “But I’m going to get us out of here.”

There was so much that Tess didn’t know.

She didn’t know who had put them in these horrible boxes or why. She didn’t know how she would escape or even how she’d find her way back home if she did. But there was one thing she knew for certain. She was going to find whoever was responsible for this and she was going to make them pay.

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