Topic: The Wizard.

Izira Nyte

Date: 2008-04-28 17:45 EST
((OOC Introduction:

In previous posts Izira has internally referred to her history with a wizard.
See: Back at the Inn; Mornings with Hope; and Moments at the Inn.
This is that history...

WARNING: Content - while not blatant - is still mature.))

The Wizard: Chapter One

"Line up! Line up!" The woman's harsh voice called, taking away what little pleasantry the outside yard had to offer the children. Quickly the youths of various ages and size lined up. There was no order to it. They just found room where they were able, pushing and shoving if they must. Izira found herself third from the left end, stuck between two of the taller boys, Mox and Pav. Mox was cocky and blonde, athletic in build and actually younger than Izira's twelve years by two seasons. Pav was darker and carried more muscle; with his age of near sixteen he should have had some gathered intelligence, but his head was as thick as his chest. They weren't the meanest that lived there in the house, but she disliked them just the same. Anyone that touched her, she disliked these days.

Down the line, from the right, Mistress Chloe walked with an older gentleman. These visits were common, someone come for a child. This wasn't an orphanage, just a nicely done up slave house. Very rarely did someone leave to go to a new home with new parents, if they were lucky their new boss would have their own interest in mind. Mistress Chloe only had her own interest in mind, an interest that lined the pockets of her purse. Profit was the only reason for keeping a group of misfit children dressed, fed and more or less healthy. The more children she kept about, the more hands to help with the house chores and the better selection she had to offer her clients.

This one did not look like the usual lot, which consisted of property owners looking for cheap house servants or men looking for young brides. Nor did he look like one of those types that came with instruments and -scientific- questions in hand. Still, far as Izira's mind went, the man looked off. Mistress Chloe walked the line, wearing a blue dress that didn't fit her bulked form. The woman would have been more suited to bear wrestling than raising children. Even the tidy bun at the back of her head seemed to mock her inability to look feminine. Beside Chloe, the man was short. Though, he still had several feet on young Izira. It was summer. It was hot. Izira stood in bare feet on the dirt in the yard, an orange spring dress draped loosely over her form. It was too big, given to her by Mistress Chloe when an older girl left and her new -benefactor- instructed that her old rags be left behind. The man, despite the heat, was wearing a long black robe with patterns worked into the hems in dark blue. His hands and face would have looked stark white against the dark coloring of his robe were it not for his hair. Silver white, pulled back into a short ponytail, it showed that the man had at least a touch of sun to his skin. It was an odd color, Izira thought, for he didn't look old-old at all. But he was most definitely an adult.

Indirectly as she could, Izira watched Mistress Chloe and the man move down the line. He appeared indifferent to the children presented, almost as though they were bushes that followed the path he walked. But every now and then he paused, nodding to a child that the Mistress would then pull forward. Girls. The ones he picked indicated no -type- in mind. Llana was strawberry blonde, taller and older, showing the signs of flowering into womanhood. Mauni was almost as tall, straight as a stick, with odd violet eyes and blue hair. Heather was short and mousy, Izira wasn't sure the girl ever said anything. Heidi was another blonde, a touch heavyset. She had big rosy cheeks when she smiled but she wasn't smiling just then. The pale 'lyn twins, Gwedolyn and Luellyn, and dark, exotic Mellanni followed. Was he taking them all or just thinning the herd? Izira was considering the selected girls when she turned to see who he would pick next. His dark, midnight blues were on her.

"This one."

Izira Nyte

Date: 2008-04-28 23:06 EST
Her heart leapt into her chest, but unlike the others, she wasn?t pulled forward.

?That one I must advise against, Sir.? Mistress Chloe intoned with a click of her tongue, a true indication that the man was someone to take seriously. The Mistress did not hesitate on fulfilling requests, unless she feared retribution for?faulty merchandise. ?She has a propensity for setting fires. We don?t let her near the matches, but she finds them surely. An arsonist and a crook,? she judged as a sneer followed her words.

The man straightened, eyes locking on the woman who stood taller than him. There was coldness in his voice. ?Her with the others .? There was no room for questioning or a response on the Mistress? part. A quick turn set his robes to stir about his frame as he moved away from the gathered youths and disappeared into the shaded doorway of the main house. Izira felt a growing fear in the pit of her stomach.

?You girls!? Mistress Chloe bellowed, ?Stay in line. The Wizard wants to have a look at you each. Privately.? A sharp nod of her head to the other children, ?The rest of you can get out of my sight until dinner.? They hardly need her to say it, before they scattered. Those that lingered the longest were those that risked losing a friend. No one lingered for Izira.

Back into the building they were led. Izira, at the end of the eight girl line-up, wanted nothing more than to backtrack outside and hide. She knew better than that though, several failed runaway attempts had earned her nothing but further pain. At least here, she told herself, she was fed. Survival was as good as it got. The Mistress stopped the outside the Private Room. It was a room set aside for more personal interviews of selected children, if such was the desire. She?d never been it for such a purpose, but had seen the inside on several occasions while cleaning. It was just about as empty as a cell, or so she assumed. There was no toilet in there. There was, however, a washbowl, a table with two chairs and a bed. It was a small grimy thing, that bed, but the blokes who came here weren?t any more concerned about it than the men that would have you on the road. The pit in Izira?s stomach started to grow.

Izira Nyte

Date: 2008-04-29 01:19 EST
?All on your best behavior,? Mistress Chloe said in warning. Her gaze darkened as it landed on Izira, then she moved towards the door and landed a quiet knock against the surface. ?They are ready for you, which one first??

?The chubby blonde.? He responded from inside the dimmed room. At the end of the line, she couldn?t see him but his voice carried into the hallway soft as a promise and smooth as velvet. Izira watched as Heidi went in and the door closed behind her. There wasn?t much to hear, most sounds muffled and hindered by wall and door. No way of telling time, the minutes went by unknown in silence. When a knock sounded on the other side of the door, Heidi exited looking wide-eyed and fearful, paler than before. ?The dark one.? Mellanni entered, head held strong and proud. After a few minutes there was a scuffle and a quick, cut-off cry. No knock preceded her exit. The door opened quickly and Mellanni was shoved roughly into the hall. Her lower lip, so lush and proud, was swollen and bleeding from a short cut at the left side of her mouth. The man stormed out after her, dark midnight-blues going down the line of girls. ?You.? He stated sharply, a finger pointed at Izira. All the other girls seem to try and duck away from his wrath but she was frozen in place. That she wasn?t moving as commanded did nothing to quell his mood. Storming forward a harsh hand came about her thin arm and with forced dragged her into the room, the door slammed shut behind them.

Once in the room he held onto her long enough to right the fallen chair from the floor, then forced her unkindly into it and pushed her towards the meager table. Izira felt him, pacing at her back, but was too scared to turn around. That fear was only heightened when he stilled and a stretching quiet took over. Unwilling to look back to see if he was there or not, she imagined he could have disappeared. The Mistress had called him a wizard after all, wasn?t vanishing something a wizard was able to do? He had magically gone from the room, however. Soon his presence was again commanding, coming up from behind and leaning over Izira. Pale hands were placed to either side of her causing her to bring her arms as close to her body as they would go. His hands could have almost been delicate, were it not for the menacing hint of blood on the knuckles. Mellanni?s blood. In his anger his hair had come undone from the tidy ponytail, loose strands tickling at her ear as he leaned his head closer to her face.

?What is your name?? It was a question, but didn?t sound like a question. His words were a flat out command, demanding response.

?Izira.?

?Izira. What?? The edge of his tone sharpened as he had to extend his question. Knuckles on the table turning whiter with the force he was putting behind them, accenting the red blood that stained them.

A last name? He wanted a last name? Izira?s mind rushed for an answer. Noir had been her name given at birth, but it wasn?t a name she put out there. Her ?father? was dead and she didn?t know who might come after her because of it. Nyte was her mother?s maiden, but still that presented a risk no matter how deeply hearing it comforted her. A name, a name, she needed a name and quick. She searched her memory for anything useful, but there was nothing. Cruel pet names, mean nicknames and unbiased generalizations. None of them were helpful. Then it came to her. Something a man had once said as she fled the scene of a deadly fire she had accidently set when spooked.

The name came easily and willingly to her lips, like a prayer in the darkest stretch of night, ?DeMuerte.?

Izira Nyte

Date: 2008-04-30 14:03 EST
?DeMuerte.? He said with his voice soft in her ear. The original inflection of the word?s accent came effortlessly to him. It gave her chills to hear it spoken so, only for it to be followed by a whispered chuckle. He leaned away from her, hands moving from the table. One, she saw slightly turning her head to the side, was placed on the back of her chair. The other settled lightly against her hair causing her to tense. This only brought him further amusement, chuckling again as he moved fingertips through the inch-length growth. ?Short hair is not appealing on a girl.? Izira remained quiet to that, unsure of what to say and thinking it better than to say nothing. ?Did you cut it yourself, Izira DeMuerte??

?No.?

There was a quiet sound of understanding, the short exhale of breath. His hand continued to touch her hair, stroking it slowly. Izira?s anxiety grew as the touch lingered, she didn?t like being touched. But there was nothing she could do about it. Whatever it was inside of her that brought the flame was not there and would not come to her now. It rarely came when she wanted it to. Tears started to sting her eyes at the cruelty of it but she bit the inside of her cheek to keep them down. She refused to cry, she wouldn?t. She wouldn?t. Then something pulled her from her concentration, a tug. The man had given her hair a small tug. It was not a tweak of those sheered short strands, but a delicate pull of hair that reached her shoulders once more.

?There. That is better.? He said, releasing his hold of hair and chair and moving to stand before her to regard the length from another angle. Izira felt her hair against the back of her neck and framing her face. ?Much better.? Pleased with his handiwork, low voice a touch smug. Midnight blues watched her silently before patience wore out, ?What do you say, Izira??

What do I say? Somehow Izira didn?t think that ?How did you do that?? was the response he was looking for. Eyes lowered from the unblinking gaze upon her, as it made her further uncomfortable. Softly she gave the wizard the reply he was seeking, ?Thank you.? Deeply she wanted to reach up and touch those newly grown strands for herself, but she remained wary of moving before him.

Looking down she missed his nod of approval. Her ears burned to pick up the slightest of sounds from the room. Silence. Then, fabric whispered brusquely against fabric. A light creak sounded, the bed complaining as a body settled against it. Panic rose in her throat, the quickened beat of her heart filled her ears as she strained to hear beyond it. It was more than wariness that kept her eyes dedicated to taking in the grain pattern of the table she sat at. It was outright fear.

?Izira.? He wanted her to look at him, she knew, but she could bring her head to lift. Body trembled. Several heartbeats rushed by. When he spoke again his voice was harder if still as soft, ?Look at me.? Even wanting to refuse compliance his words, Izira found herself snapping up quickly to obey.

Izira Nyte

Date: 2008-04-30 15:48 EST
He sat on the bed, removed robe laid out next to him. Under the shed article of clothing he was dressed similar to a noble. Red silk, brighter than the blood she had seen on his fingers, was his shirt. The collar fastened up his neck with two small matching buttons, akin to the cuffs about his wrists. Pants of black were made of a quality fabric. Black boots shined with immaculate perfection. He wasn?t naked, but he was still on the bed. Looking at him, Izira could not tell how her discomfort made him feel or if he was even aware of it. She assumed he was, she felt watched by a cat and she the bird ready for flight.

?Come here, Izira.? He did not pat the bed or motion her over. The placement of ?here? was obvious. It was the bed. Again, against her inner will, she moved at his command. Chair beneath her scraping the floor as it was pushed out and she stood. The delicate pat of bare feet against stone, she went to stand within reach before him. A pale hand reached out, brushing against the lower line of her jaw. The hand remained there. His voice carried a dark intimacy she had heard before, ?Tell me, Izira, have you started your bleeding??

Their eyes were locked together. She found it impossible to look away. The meaning behind his words was unmistakable, she wanted to close her eyes and turn away. The fire wouldn?t come, she couldn?t stop him. She didn?t want to watch him do what she knew was coming. She wanted to crawl away into that place within herself she went when it happened. Voice lost to her, she could only shake her head in reply.

A pause as her reply was considered, he titled his gaze from her face to her body. ?You will.? It was said like a promise. Hand removed from the skin of her jaw line, ?A woman isn?t a woman until she bleeds.? Coldness filled his tone. Quickly enough that Izira lost sight of his movements he snatched her from her standing position. Twisting her around, he forced her sitting into his lap. The strength of his arms surprised her. Eye contact broken, she found the will to try and squirm away from his body. She did not cry out. Knowing it would bring no one?s help and might entertain him further. The effort was to no avail, she was pinned. He held her hard enough to keep her from moving away from his body. ?Izira. Izira,? He chided at her inadequate struggle until she became immobile in his grasp. Something in his voice had calmed her, a tickling effect it had within her ear. Tired, she felt tired. Her small frame relaxed back against his.

?You will not fight me anymore, Izira. Understood?? She nodded weakly. ?My will is to be obeyed.? Again she nodded. His voice came closer to her ear, so low it only existed in the distance between his lips and her. ?Say you will obey me.?

There was no internal struggle against agreement. No question in her mind over if she wanted to do as he said or not. Will power had left her. ?I will obey you.?

?Good.? Satisfaction in his voice, one arm loosened from around her. The hand moved and pulled the freshly grown hair aside from her neck. Warm, wet lips pressed against the surface of her skin. Goosebumps ran along her arms. Mouth barely parted from her neck, he spoke to her again. Hot breath breezed again her flesh. ?Tell me about the fire, Izira.?

Izira Nyte

Date: 2008-04-30 18:45 EST
She was a broken dam. The fire was her secret and everything she could tell him about it, she did. It was in her, she confessed, it was not always there and she could not control it. Without prompting she told him about the first time the fire had ignited from her.

?My Mother had died. I was looking for Father. I wanted to tell him what happened. Wanted to ask him why he was always so cold to us and what the images I had seen during Mother?s death meant. When I found him he was with another woman, she was young and pretty. She was smiling. They were entering a cabin together. He was smiling at the woman. He never smiled at Mother like that. I blamed him for Mother?s death. I was mad. I went to him. He was cold as ever. He didn?t care. He told me to get lost. He hit me.? Venom bit into her words when she spoke of his action. ?The fire came and killed them both.? No regret from her. Silence was all he offered in return. Continuing to hold her, stroked her hair.

She was numb to the touch, lost in the memories that had been pulled into her mind. ?After the fire I ran away. A man caught me on the road. I wanted the fire to come, to stop him, but it wouldn?t.? She didn?t tell him what the man did, only the need for the fire to come. ?The road was like that, full of men. Sometimes the fire would come and I could get away, mostly it did not. It never came again like it did with Father. If there was kindling, the fire grew, but it never started as strong as it had that day.

?There was the boy in the barn, three years ago. He startled me. I was trying to get the fire to come before he scared me. I didn?t mean to hurt him. A flare had gone around me. He jumped back, struck his head. I couldn?t move him, too heavy. People were coming and I was afraid. I ran. Barn burned down, burned down with him in it.? She did not tell him of the words the old man had called after her as she ran. The words she had turned into a new last name.

?After that I didn?t try to call it any more. I found a house to stay at. The lady there was nice and the man didn?t touch me. But the fire came anyway. It came when I didn?t need it, when I was safe. It came when I was asleep. I liked them but the fire came when I slept and took them away.? Sorrow touched her voice but her eyes were dry. She couldn?t cry for them anymore, it wouldn?t bring them back. ?It took the whole house.

?I didn?t know if that would happen again. I went back to trying to call the fire just incase. Sometimes it came. It came more often, but not always. Not always. I was back on the road, I wasn?t safe anymore. I needed the fire.? Her voice went quiet, drowned out by the memories.

?And here?? He asked, lips brushing against her earlobe.

?Accidents, mostly. Trying to use the fire and someone catches me at it, calls the Mistress and makes a big deal. At times the boys get too rough and it comes out. No one?s been hurt cause of it.? Izira sounded like she wished they had. She closed her eyes and tried to feel that sense of the fire within her. It wasn?t there. All she felt was a cool calm, it reached from him and into her. There was no fear in her of it, his presence didn?t allow for it.

?We will be more careful of ourselves in the future, won?t we?? Another long kiss touched her neck as she nodded in acquiescence to his words. Once she had agreed, he transferred her from his lap and to the ground. She felt feeble upon her own feet, standing still and watching him gather the robe about his form once more. With the robes about him he held out his hand to her, ?You are mine now, Izira.?

Her hand went to his without thought, blinking up at him as he pronounced her his belonging. Gazed moved from his face and down to their hands, seeing the sun-touched flesh of her small hand captured by the pale skin of his. ?Who are you?? She asked delicately almost afraid to voice the question.

A low chuckle, he drew her closer. Her eyes once more pulled into the depths of his dark midnight-blues. Voice an ominous promise, ?You will call me ?Master.??

Izira Nyte

Date: 2008-04-30 20:23 EST
Izira followed him from the room like a puppet on a string, looking at that around her but no longer seeing it. That the other girls took in her lengthened hair with wide eyes meant nothing to her. Mellanni sent daggers towards Izira with black eyes, pride wounded that ?Icky? would be selected before her. Heidi looked more than relieved not to be picked. Those girls that were older looked down at her with puzzlement, especially those who had already grown out of their childlike bodies. But the again there were always those men.

The wizard approached Mistress Chloe, keeping Izira close to his side. Chloe must have seen a fever in his eyes, for when he broached the subject of price it had suddenly gone up. Greed had no greater ally than the one it had in Mistress Chloe. The man?s hand tightened about Izira?s and she was aware of his sudden annoyance. Somehow, that awareness stirred in her mind. What was happening? But as soon as the thought surfaced it was gone as his hand relaxed and calm returned. Above her the wizard agreed to the woman?s outrageous price without argument. The lady was pleased.

They were moving. The other girls left behind. Shaded halls gave way to the outside world. The sun was out and shining brightly same as earlier, but everything was different. Even while Izira lingered in a state of mental numbness, she knew everything had changed. The three of them drew near to a large horse, honey-brown and splattered with white spots. It snorted and stomped a foot. She watched the horse closely, not having a lot of experience with them.

He stopped, releasing her hand, lowering down and lifting her chin to him. ?You will grow use to horses.? He informed her, indicating his steed. ?A proper girl knows how to ride.? Then he stood. She believed his words at that moment solely because he said them. He moved away from her to gather his payment from the saddlebags that sat against a tree near the horse. Mistress Chloe came closer to her as he moved away.

?Don?t come back here, you hear?? She said with a snip in her tone, that she kept low enough for the man not to hear. ?I?ll not be refunding this price, no way.? Izira turned her head just so to look at the woman, trying to come to an understanding about what was going on. The crush of his boots as he returned broke her line of thought.

He held out two small bags of coin to the Mistress who accepted them with a haughty look. ?The price agreed?and your finder?s fee.? The last part of his words said with the hint of a growl.

?No refunds.? The Mistress assured him.

The horse was readied and the wizard lifted himself onto its back. When he held out an arm, Chloe delivered Izira into his care. She was placed before him, both legs over one side of the animal. He held her against himself with an arm around her stomach to keep her secure. A click of his tongue and a movement of his body sent the horse to move at a steady pace. With a turn of her head, she watched as Mistress Chloe and the home she had known for almost a year faded from view. She did not mourn the loss.

?Master?? The word took its time forming on her lips, voice far away.

?Yes, Pet??

?Where are we going??

?Home. Of course.?

Izira nodded to herself. Home. Of course.

?Sleep now, Izira.? His voice was heavy with command. Will and strength left her completely. Her head leaned back against his chest. Eyelids unresisting, Izira slept. Beneath her the horse picked up speed as he carried her away from any life she?d known before.

((End Chapter One))