A Good Servant – Ch. 21
By Laura S. Fox
Copyright © 2018 Laura S. Fox
All Rights Reserved
Intended for Mature Audiences Only
This story contains graphic depictions of sexual intercourse, strong language and it is not meant for readers who are less than 18 years of age.
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"Is this bothering you?" Xavier asked, moving his arm slowly, and looking at the mechanical thumb Edgar had created from nuts and bolts and scrap metal and who knew what else readily supplied by Marcus who seemed pretty much taken with the scientist from Aeria.
Despite being quite passionate about mechanics, at a layman's level, for sure, Xavier had little idea about how Edgar had managed to bypass the conflict between his flesh and metal. For an entire week, the man had come and gone from Ayn's home, each time bringing something else and tinkering for hours to get his little project going.
Xavier could forgive the man's excitement with the so called project that was basically a human hand, turned partially into metal. He no longer felt pain, and his arm was usable, as much as it could be used under the circumstances.
Ayn embraced him from behind.
"The only thing that's bothering me is that you're talking too much," the man said lovingly, as he pushed away the sweaty strands of hair from Xavier's neck and planting a slow kiss.
He could not deny it. Everywhere Ayn touched, it felt like fire. How had he lived before finding this man he loved so much? A man who was brave and uncouth and born in the heart of the desert, so far away from Xavier's world that he could have just as well be from a different planet. Yet, the sound of Ayn's heart, the vibration of his deep breathing, they were all around him, resounding into him, and he knew once again, why he wasn't lost, but found again.
"Can I fuck you?" Ayn whispered into his ear.
Xavier chuckled. Count on the man to skip politeness. But it was this directness that fascinated and made Xavier yield to Ayn.
"Should you really ask?" he said back, and Ayn's laugh tickled his ear.
"I suppose I could just bend you over and give it to you hard. I surely know this is how you like it," Ayn said with satisfaction.
"Oh, you do?" Xavier tried to sound consternated, but he didn't seem to do such a good job.
His voice was trembling already. He knew his body was taut, stretched with desire, for the man who was pushing his legs apart slowly, apparently having a mind to take his lover through his clothes.
They were standing up, Xavier overlooking the window, trying to gather his wits about him. At least, that had been the case until Ayn had come from behind, tip-toeing, but determined to make his intentions known.
Not that he minded. He could use a small break from the storm of thoughts clouding his mind. Cory was on a crusade, and he knew enough to realize that starting a war with the Trainers meant certain death, not only for the former servant and what he thought he believed in, but for everyone swept into the tide.
But change was coming, and Xavier knew enough politics to realize what that meant. He could not fight it, even if that meant that any future he could have hoped to have with Ayn, lost from the Trainers, in the heart of the desert, but found in love, any future was forfeit.
His lips drew a small moan, as Ayn's hands sneaked under his shirt, groping his chest. Ayn's hands were rough, but loving, and Xavier loved that roughness.
"Do you want anyone who happens to pass by to see your face while I give you all my love?" Ayn chuckled in his ear.
"Why not? It appears that the entire settlement is well aware of your stories of sexual prowess," Xavier teased. "What's one more notch on your belt?"
"Not fair," Ayn seemed to pout. "Has Myra filled your head with stuff like that?"
"Ah, no, she just sent me to sleep with bedtime stories, nothing of the kind. But it's not like I am deaf," Xavier replied.
"Well, it's not after you, anyway. C'mon, hop on the bed, it's not like I want anyone to see you while you come impaled in my dick," Ayn said, more determined this time, and he began dragging Xavier towards the bed.
"They might still hear me moaning, though," Xavier joked.
"Then I should shut you up, so that no one hears you," Ayn kissed him. "Wait, did you just admit that I'm making you moan?"
"I was just stating the obvious," Xavier still made an effort to play it cool.
"Xav, stop talking. I need you on your knees, sucking my dick," Ayn growled, but Xavier could hear the amusement in the man's voice.
"Really? No pity for a man who's no longer whole?" he joked, raising his arm.
"You'll never be unwhole to me," Ayn said simply. "You're mine, and nothing else matters."
Xavier needed no other explanations. He let himself to his knees, ready to worship his lover's manhood, which Ayn hurried to free from his jeans. Xavier felt growing hungry with need as his tongue lapped at the sturdy length presented in front of his eyes.
"By all gods, you know how to drive a guy crazy," Ayn murmured. "Just hurry up," he begged.
"My pleasure," Xavier smirked against Ayn's hard cock and swallowed the member fast, making sure to drive it home with efficiency.
Ayn cursed, and grabbed his lover's head, forcing his way inside even deeper, and starting to move his hips.
"Let's fuck," Ayn withdrew, much to Xavier's dismay.
"I thought you were bound to penetrate my throat," he spoke.
"As much as I like to shoot a fresh load in your mouth, I'd rather have your other hole."
"Sometimes I think you believe yourself in charge," Xavier joked, but he didn't mind being manhandled, as Ayn brought him up from the floor and pushed him on the bed, clearly intent on having him obey, without too much fuss.
Ayn's eyes were burning in the semidark of the room.
"You know what Cory wants. It means war. Real war," he voiced his worries, despite his better judgement.
"We'll talk about that later," Ayn said shortly.
Xavier gasped when his lover went down on him fast, pulling his cock out and engulfing it in moist heat. He was even less prepared for what happened next, as Ayn undressed him, and then hurried to undress himself as well.
The man moved a bit, away from Xavier's field of view and returned only to straddle Xavier's hips, with an intent look in his eyes.
"I thought you wanted to fuck me," Xavier spoke.
Ayn's short look made the words die away on his lips. He knew what this was. Ayn didn't want him to believe that he was less in his eyes. And Xavier also knew that it was taking Ayn's all his willpower to fight his pride to do this on his own.
Which made him all the more grateful when Ayn slid onto Xavier's hard member, obviously well prepared for the invasion and surrender of his own body.
Xavier loved everything about his former slave, right now, as Ayn began moving up and down, holding his manhood a bit away with one hand, as if he was trying to concentrate on giving pleasure, not receiving it.
"Come here," he spoke tenderly, and he used the arm that was still whole to convince Ayn to fall onto his chest.
This way, he could use his hips and contribute to their pleasure, by moving them up and down. Their breath mingled, becoming one.
"You couldn't let me, could you?" Xavier asked tenderly.
"Not in a million years," Ayn confirmed, the solemnity of his words, a stark contrast against the ragged moans escaping his mouth. "Fill me up, Xav, and don't you ever dare doubt me."
Xavier laughed. It was easy to forget about the storm ahead, as he drove himself deep into his lover's body, giving him what he wanted. What they both wanted.
Edgar was standing bent over the car engine, while Marcus was gesticulating widely, explaning something. Ayn felt the need to grin. He had to admit that it was funny how much impact the well behaved scientist could have on a man like Marcus. His friend had not hesitated to express his admiration in the words he had known best, which had made poor Edgar blush to the tip of his ears.
"This man," Marcus bellowed, as he saw Ayn and Xav approaching, and pointed toward Edgar, "has a fucking sexy mind!"
Yeah, that was exactly what made Edgar look like he wanted to start running back to Aeria, or worse, right into the arms of the Trainers.
"Stop teasing the guy, Marcus," Ayn spoke. "Cory says he has a sweetheart back at home."
Marcus blinked a few times, then a sly smile lit up his hirsute face.
"That girl can have his body all she wants, it's his brain I want!"
Ayn laughed wholeheartedly, although he could tell Edgar was about to explain Marcus something obvious, like he could not have the two parts of him separated. But what came out of the scientist's mouth took them all by surprise.
"I doubt Lena would be interested in my body," Edgar protested, earning around round of laughter from the locals.
Xav smiled, too, but Ayn could tell his lover had many questions and cared little for happy banter. And he knew why. There was no time for such carefree things.
"Well, if that girl doesn't want you, there's always an empty spot for you here," Marcus opened his giant arms, a gesture that could just as well drive the fear of all that was holy into Edgar.
But the scientist was fast to catch innuendo now and he even seemed more used to it.
"I'm afraid that there would be a crowd there," Edgar said lightly.
Marcus was laughing so hard that Ayn thought for a moment that his friend was this close to blow a fuse for real.
"What did I tell you? The sexiest mind alive," Marcus spoke. "What brings you and His Majesty here? Don't you have more healing to do?" he wiggled his thick eyebrows, only to be encountered by an annoyed huff from Xav.
"We wish," Ayn snorted. "Now it's time to bring us up to speed. Where is Cory?"
"He is with Myra and the other women. Apparently, they all want to touch him and make sure that he's real," Marcus replied.
"He is learning about the old faith, as well," Edgar supplied, in turn. "Everything is still very new to us, and learning about it all would take us some time."
"We don't have time," Xav intervened.
Ayn knew what the pursed lips and steel like gaze meant. Oh, he knew his lover well enough now. And it meant that the whole bunch of them needed to shut the hell up and listen to the man. Marcus seemed to sense the change in atmosphere, and Edgar was quick to understand, as well. Everyone fell silent.
"What we need is organization, planning, and someone on the inside," Xav spoke.
Marcus shifted from one foot to another, and then scratched his head.
"What we need is a fuck load of guns," the man spoke.
"That, too," Xav admitted, taking Ayn by surprise.
He was expecting a least a reprimand from Xav for Marcus's language. But instead, his lover was showing, once more, that he understood the situation and understood it well.
"We need to know how many men, vehicles, weapons, and other logistics we can count on," Xav continued.
"They're all scattered across the desert," Marcus made a vague gesture with one hand. "Do you think you can organize these sons of bitches?"
"They obviously need a motivation," Xav said with a small frown. "That is where all this talk about The One comes into play."
"You don't believe, do you?" Edgar intervened.
Xav shook his head curtly.
"Then maybe you are not the right person to be in charge, with all due respect, Lord Xavier," Edgar replied in turn.
Marcus was staring at the two men talking, his eyes growing wide, and filling now with something Ayn knew was respect. He was surprised at the scientist's big mouth, as well. Not that he could not see where Edgar was coming from. And the guy was kind of right.
"I do not wish to be in charge," Xav replied, without one hint of disdain or disapproval in his voice. "I am merely offering my assistance."
Both Ayn and Marcus turned to look at Edgar, expecting the scientist's reply.
"Yet, you are the right person for the job," Edgar offered right away, and it was clear, to everyone present, that he wasn't trying to suck up to the former First Ruler of Drena. He was just stating a fact.
"Then we seem to be in a conundrum. I do not have the faith you speak of," Xav said calmly.
"Do you believe that I am a person in his right mind, Lord Xavier?" Edgar asked.
"Please drop the `lord' part as I find it jarring. Also, it does not sweeten by any means the truths you believe would sound harsh in my ears. Yes, I think your mental faculties are perfect," Xav said.
Edgar leaned in a short bow.
"I would reject the possibility of a higher being, just like you, if it wasn't for all the evidence I witnessed. Cory barely received formal education in his young years, and we all know what the training of a servant entails. Yet, he's reading 20 times faster than me, and has understanding of things that no one else has. Also, he made the pictures in the old book Hector gave me move under my very eyes, predicting the future. I can assure you, I was not imbibed at the moment, and everything happened just as Cory made to appear in front of our eyes."
Xav seemed to ponder, and Ayn watched him curiously. He had to admit that he could not tell what his lover was thinking right now. And it was true that he had never paid much attention to Myra's ramblings about a goddess and whatnot. That seemed to be stuff only women cared about. And he had not wondered until now whether he believed in those things or not. What Edgar was saying sounded pretty messed up, but those were things that had just happened, so they weren't legends mothers were telling children to send them off to sleep.
"While I could come with arguments in favor of other possibilities other than Cory being the emissary of this higher being you are speaking of into this world, I will not do it," Xav eventually spoke.
"May I inquire why?" Edgar insisted.
"Because while I may not believe in a goddess who lived one thousand years ago, or who knows when ..."
"She is eternal," Edgar interrupted him.
"I still believe in something," Xav continued, seemingly not at all pissed with Edgar's interruption. "And sometimes that is all that is needed."
"What do you believe in?" Ayn hurried to ask.
Xav smirked, and Ayn didn't need any other explanation.
"I guess I know what you believe in," he grinned back. "How about we start that organizing stuff? We have our work cut out for us, that's for sure."
Edgar nodded gravely, and Marcus clapped his hands in glee.
"I would suggest you all refrain from acting too happy just yet," Xav suggested.
"Come on, Xav," Ayn patted the man's back. "Don't be a party pooper. We barely wait to kick some Trainer ass."
"You talk like you don't know them. Which is true, because you don't," Xav spoke. "They will not be easy to bring down, that I can tell you. And I don't know if weapons or manpower are enough. The toughest thing of all would be to have a man on the inside."
"How about Lucas?" Edgar spoke.
"He may sound like the obvious choice. But we don't know anything about what happened to him, and we don't have any means to get in contact with him."
"Cory knows a way back inside, through the mines. The maps were drawn long ago, but he has it in his blood."
"The mines are not Drena."
"I believe in him," Edgar said shortly. "If there is someone who can get inside the city, that would be him."
"I doubt that risking our symbol would serve the cause," Xav crossed his arms.
"Symbol?" Edgar wondered out loud.
"I know who the people say he is. And I know for sure that he never was an ordinary person. And for the sake of our entire operation, I hope that is the case. But I would rather hold that back as plan B. First, we need to send scouts ahead. And Cory is not the only one who knows a thing or two about getting inside Drena."
Edgar bowed in respect. Ayn had to say he felt touched. His lover was turning against his old world and he seemed to have no trouble with that. That could only mean that Xav was his, heart and soul.
"You look just like her," the young woman spoke right into his ear.
"I've been said that a lot lately. Your name is Myra?" he asked the tall girl.
She nodded with a small smile.
"So how does it feel?" she asked, clearly curious about him.
Other young women and girls stood up, as they entered the place where the female population liked to gather. Cory could tell he was surprised. If in Tresalt, he had seen women praying, studying, and get their hands busy with needlework, the women of Haven were clearly busy doing something else.
Cleaning weapons, counting bullets, organizing medicine. He felt like he was entering a different kind of temple.
"What?" he asked, turning toward her.
"To be the living proof," she smiled.
"Ah, that," he smiled back. "I will do my best to live up to everyone's expectations."
"You know you have to do more than just try," Myra placed one hand on his shoulder.
"It is that, or I will die trying," he said matter-of-factly.
Myra squeezed his shoulder in sympathy.
"Is it true? That's him?" one girl hurried to them.
Myra seemed to be pretty proud to be the one to introduce Cory to the crowd.
"Yeah, in flesh and blood."
There was noise growing all around him, and soon there were hands trying to touch him from every corner.
"Hey, watch it, girls, he's taken," Myra fended off the attacks for him.
"You don't know that," another young woman protested. "Don't tell me you hurried to claim him."
"I wish," Myra snorted. "He's sworn to some pretty man up in Drena."
"Don't tell me that he's sworn to one of the Trainers," another girl joked, and everybody started laughing.
Cory could see why Ayn loved his birthplace. Here, everyone was brave, daring to laugh in the face of danger. Because he knew that was the only thing he had to offer.
And in exchange for what?
Yet, somehow he knew. He knew that it was not in vain what he was doing. There was evil rising at the horizon, threatening to engulf the entire continent. He only sensed it in his blood, not really knowing what it was. But the certainty of impending doom had risen with him for several mornings now, and under the blanket of night, it was still there, living with him, almost living inside him.
"Again," the Head Trainer ordered. "He is yet to reach the potential."
"With all due respect, brother, he seems already out of it," one of the grey shadows moved, stepping forward.
"He is yet to reach the potential," the Head Trainer repeated. "Brother," he added.
There was frustration growing in a dark room. Lord Lucas stood in the metal chair of the machine, his human shape slumping to one side.
"Should we search for someone more suitable?" another asked. "We might have to recycle Lord Lucas. As he is, he is probably incapable of performing even basic tasks, let alone our most important mission."
"The search would take too long. Should I remind you, brothers, that it is most unfortunate that Lord Xavier remains outside our grasp? We cannot know what evil is under way. By now, we should have been contacted. And for all the deaf ears and blind eyes we have outside our areas of influence, this is the solution that we have at hand. Lord Lucas will come to his senses, and he will use his augmented mind to perform the full wipe of the continent. Unfortunately, we need the human element, or the machine won't work. Any word from Aeria?"
"Except for the incident involving the scientist named Edgar, everyone there is working according to schedule. Within a fortnight, they will have all the parts ready."
The Head Trainer was about to speak again, when someone burst into the room. It was abnormal for a Ruler to interrupt their sessions, let alone a mere servant. But the man coming through the door, gasping for air, had a look in his eyes that made the Head Trainer believe that there was something to gain from letting him speak.
"Down, at the mines," the servant managed with difficulty, "something is happening!"
"Speak correctly, so we can understand you, child," the Head Trainer demanded.
"It's a revolt. The miners want to get out."
"Take this order to your Master. Let him have the guards seal the entrance to the mines."
The servant stopped for a second, hesitating, but then he began running back the same way.
"Will the ones trapped inside be enough?" a Trainer asked.
"They are just fodder anyway, be it one way or another. Nothing can stop us now."
"Head Trainer, don't we wish to know what is happening at the mines?" another asked.
"It is of no consequence. It is, for sure, just another anomaly. All the more reason for us to proceed as quickly as it is possible. Restart the program for Lord Lucas. We do not have time to dally."
Waking the men now seemed to have been the easy part. Dion was staying close to John, while words of revolt, anger and fear were flying around.
"Let's get back, back to the surface!" someone shouted.
The people were pushing against each other, almost trampling the weaker ones, on their way back to the surface. John was holding Dion tightly, seemingly afraid he might lose him.
"Let's not hurry to be among the first," John spoke into his ear.
"Why?" Dion asked, his lungs already burning with the smell of smoke.
"There are guards at the gate. What's your bet on what they will do the first thing they see us trying to rush outside?"
Dion fell quiet.
"Shouldn't we warn the others, then?"
"They might not want to listen to us," John replied.
"We are responsible. We woke them up," Dion insisted.
John nodded curtly.
"People!" he began shouting.
After yelling the same word a few times, those close to them began to fall silent and turned to look at John.
"If we rush through the gate, the guards will just fire at us!" he shouted, as loudly as he could.
"And what do you propose? That we sit here and die? Have you seen that cauldron of fire? We will just fall inside it or die because of the smoke!"
Without the token seated deep within their flesh, the miners no longer seemed immune to the harsh conditions inside. Some coughed so badly, that Dion feared they were already very thick. And the temperature was just going up, or so it seemed, with the friction of the bodies struggling to pour toward the gate.
"Isn't there another way outside the mines?" Dion asked, but only John could hear him, his voice was so quiet.
"We should look for another way out!" John shouted.
"If there's another way out, I bet they have it guarded!" one man said out loud, and others seemed to agree with him, by the affirmative grunts coming from all directions.
"In front of you lies certain death!" John spoke again. "We don't know the same about what lies behind us! There are refuge areas where we can breathe, and we can start to explore the corridors. There can be unexplored areas!"
Some seemed to hesitate now, but other just raised their fists,and drove forward, maddened with the hard to breathe atmosphere.
"Thank you for trying," Dion slid one hand into John's. "It looks like we need to explore the mines for a way out on our own.
They just took a few steps, and Dion turned. True enough, a lot of men were following them. And he could not tell how many had chosen to try forcing the gates, but there were plenty with him and John and that was all that mattered.
Suddenly, an idea occured to him. He pulled at John's hand to draw his attention.
"We have plenty of digging tools, right?"
"Yeah, those are plenty for sure," John replied.
"Then even if there's no other way, how about we dig one out?"
John placed a quick kiss on the top of his head.
"You're a smart one. It must be why I love you," John joked.
"I'm sure," Dion laughed.
Their conversation was cut short by sounds coming from behind, angry shouts, followed by what could only be considered the noise caused by fired guns. Dion felt cold sweat down his back.
"Let's hurry, people!" John began walking fast. "They won't come here after us, but let's not try our luck!"
They were running towards the dark, the light of their torches timid against the high walls. Dion was only too scared to think what awaited for them there. And, for a second, he wondered which death was to be preferred: a quick one, at the hand of the guards, or the slow torturous one caused by thirst and hunger?
Xavier watched closely as Cory was laying the map provided by Edgar on the large table.
"Do you say you can count on all these settlements?" he asked his former servant.
He could tell Cory was not exactly at ease around him.
"They were the ones we visited so far," Cory replied.
"Everything seems to look good, on paper," Xavier spoke.
"Care to tell us what you don't want to tell us, Xavier?" Edgar intervened, obviously aware of the stilted conversation between the two men at the table.
"I do not pretend that I have lived enough in the desert to know what these people think and how they would most likely act. But what you need is an iron hand."
"Faith should lead us," Cory said, his eyes set grimly on the map.
Cory knew what was wrong, and he didn't need Xavier, his former master, to tell him. They were nothing but a handful of misfits with heads full of dreams. While the emotions were there, and Xavier also thought that they were running a bit amok, that was not enough.
And, yes, Cory knew it.
"Why shouldn't we use both?" Edgar spoke again.
Xavier examined the scientist, and the man sustained his gaze, without flinching. He could something of Lucas in the young man from Aeria. Scientists were not people to be easily swayed by station or worldly order. For Edgar, the map laid in front of them was a problem looking for a solution. And he had no qualms with compromises, as long as the outcome was going to be in their favor.
Xavier had to say that he agreed with Edgar.
"We should," he said curtly. "Cory, as much as I would like to say that your faith is enough, what we need here is pragmatism. First, we need to gather everyone here, in Haven. This place is reasonably distanced from all the other settlements. This will mean that we need enough water, food, and weapons for everyone. We need to time our schedule, so that we don't end up with more problems on our hands then we can deal with. As you can see, these people are not exactly the disciplined sort."
"We are not yet sure that we have enough weapons for everyone," Edgar spoke.
"That is one of the problems that we need to solve. Ayn, Marcus?" he turned toward the other two men present.
"We need to organize some raiding parties," Ayn confirmed. "Let's just say that up there, in Terran, they have more weapons than they need."
Marcus flexed his fists and laughed.
"They might need a little convincing, but that's what we're good at."
"We should not antagonize the people living in the cities," Edgar said.
Marcus placed one paw on the scientist's shoulder.
"Man, you know what they say: you lose some, you win some. You cannot have it all."
"I insist," Edgar slightly turned to face the giant next to him, "that these raids end up without bloodshed. After all, we should count on these people as our allies, later on."
"Especially since they might all be in danger as us all," Cory suddenly interjected, taking everyone by surprise.
"Danger, what danger?" Xavier asked.
"I don't know," Cory looked away. "I just know that it is coming."
"How about you focus a little, pretty boy," Marcus took a step toward Cory, as if his impressive stature could scare the truth out of the lither male.
Xavier knew that such a thing wasn't going to work. But the certainty with which Cory had spoken about a certain danger was making him feel chills down his spine, just as well.
"The Trainers have often spoken about a project ... they didn't name it, but it seemed important," Xavier began speaking. "They also used to say that, when the time was going to be right, I would be the most important tool. Do you know anything about such a thing? Something you might have read in those old books, in Tresalt?"
Cory frowned, deep in thought. Edgar was the one to attempt an answer instead.
"I believe that all of us in Aeria had to work on something that was supposed to be part of a bigger project. It was not our main project, and we still had other things to do on a regular basis, but it was considered vital. Yes, I think that was the word used by one of the Trainers, when they came around to supervise this project."
"But do you know what it is?" Xavier insisted.
"I am afraid that I cannot give an answer to that. We were supposed to work on our assigned parts in complete secrecy."
"Supposed?" Xavier quirked an eyebrow.
"Well, we did, from time to time, stumbled upon issues that we could not solve individually. Despite the Trainers' clear indictment, we did collaborate from time to time."
"Look who's the undisciplined bunch now," Marcus laughed and slammed his paw against Edgar's shoulder, making the man sway a little.
"That certainly was a dangerous thing to do," Xavier said calmly.
"We know not to tell on each other, especially when our shortcomings concern our integrity as scientists," Edgar explained.
"Ah, you wipe each other's butts," Ayn laughed.
"Yes, I suppose that is a way of describing what we did," Edgar said thoughtfully, but with a small smile.
"That could work to our advantage. We need unity, above all, but the fact that we are just swimming in the dark, at this point, is certainly not helping."
"I propose to just go over to the white city, whoop the Trainers' asses, and free everyone," Ayn said with conviction.
"We have no idea if that would be enough. The Trainers are not like us. I doubt they're made from flesh and blood, like us."
"And they chose this appearance because it was as close as they could get to look human," Cory spoke, making everyone's eyes turn toward him once more.
"That is something I didn't know," Xavier said.
"Me either," Edgar sounded surprised.
"Ayn, did we know?" Marcus joked, this time hooking one arm over his friend's shoulders.
"Nah, man, I must have missed that lesson," Ayn bantered back.
"Cory, please tell us what you know," Xavier demanded, after taking a short look at Ayn.
Ayn smiled widely, and he had to refrain one smile of his own, too. Good morale was important, and that was why he wasn't annoyed with his lover's and his friend's shenanigans.
"It was one of the things I read back in Tresalt. When The One created the world, she also created the Trainers. They weren't called this way in the beginning."
"How they were called?" Edgar asked, voicing the curiosity eating up everyone present.
"They were called ... servants," Cory said hesitantly.
"Servants?" Edgar expressed, once more, everyone's surprise at that little revelation.
"Yes, they were servants of the new world, their role being to maintain order and ensure its prosperity and development," Cory explained. "I'm sorry that I don't recall exactly the exact words ... there is the old language the books use. But I'm certain they were called servants."
"So, what happened?" Xavier was the one to ask this time. "When did everything change? How did they become the powerful beings they are now?"
"The stories become cryptic at one point," Cory continued. "The One decided to retire from her work of building the world, once she considered it complete. But she left the world is these servants' care."
"They did a shit of a job," Marcus murmured, earning a playful shove from Ayn and a stern look from Xavier.
"For that they were granted power, immense power, and, in time, it appears this power has crept in their souls," Cory spoke. "They turned against the old faith, and brought one new, to worship them, not The One."
"Does it really say all these in those old books?" Edgar expressed his bewilderment.
Cory seemed to ponder.
"It's hard for me to tell. I feel like, in some way, this is my interpretation."
"For he will be the one to understand my words, and feel my love," someone intervened, making everyone turn toward the door.
Myra came in and nonchalantly took a seat at the table.
"What?" she shrugged. "My feet are killing me. I've been up all day."
"We don't have a problem with you sitting," Xavier said sharply. "What's with the words you just said?"
"Ah, that?" the woman smirked. "That's what we know and you, warmongers, don't. Cory, I think you understand the old books differently, because you were the only one to do so. Seriously, do you think those old scumbags would have let anyone still read those books? I bet they would have built a funeral pyre with them. It's clear that they thought them to be harmless."
"How do you know all these, woman?" Xavier asked.
"Xav, dear, I told you not to frown so much. Wrinkles don't make you pretty," Myra joked. "But let me tell you this. We know only because what I have just said is passed to us from mothers to daughters. It's not written anywhere, it's here," she pointed at her temple, "and here," she placed one hand over her chest.
"Unlikely to have the means to fight against this type of knowledge," Edgar said.
Xavier had to agree, once more, with the scientist.
"All the more reason to use both the power of faith and that of weapons," he said, mostly to himself.
"Oh, no, Xav," Myra gasped. "You think I said something right?"
By all means, he should have been annoyed with the woman's playful attitude. But she was just like Ayn and Marcus. Full of happy banter and the right choice for keeping everyone's morale up.
"Yes, you did," he replied, and looked her in the eyes, while smiling.
Myra's eyes grew wide and then she burst into laughter.
"No wonder Ayn is crazy about you. You're terribly handsome when you smile. Ayn, keep this one close. I'm not saying, but you might have to fight to keep him if he continues to be nice like this."
"Let me see anyone try," Ayn flexed his fingers, like he could barely wait to fight someone over his lover.
"Well, I suppose you don't mind another head at the war table," Myra placed both hands on the wooden surface, like she wanted to make sure she had a guaranteed place there.
"Not at all," Cory said. "You seem to be able to complete the holes in our understanding of the situation."
Xavier nodded. There was something strange he was feeling right now. Like he could not recall ever feeling so close to so many people at the same time. That had to be the power of friendship.
Lucas could feel his eyelids heavy like lead, but he fought to open his eyes, nonetheless. There was something cool pressing against his lips and he stuck his tongue out, feeling thirsty.
"How are you feeling, Lord Lucas?" a voice from far away swam to me, through the haze muffling his hearing.
He straightened up and looked around. Grey shadows moved everywhere his eyes could see.
"Is the transformation complete?" someone asked.
The servant from his household appeared in his field of vision, examining him.
"His eyes turned grey. Yes, the transformation is complete."
He felt a surge in his blood, upon hearing the words. He was powerful, all of a sudden, and he could feel like he could barely contain that power.
"Lord Lucas, welcome among us," the Head Trainer approached.
His hands were cold, as the Head Trainer caught them into his. But it wasn't bothering him. Nothing was bothering him now. Something new was opening in front of him, and it was up to him to go through that door.
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