My Kingdom Come book 1: The Saints We See

667 standard years after the signing of the Alliance

The door closed behind his client and Mik allowed his attention to come back to himself. Sobs rose up in his chest. He weakly curled in on himself and gave in to them, his hand clutching his tassel to his chest inside the privacy of the little cave he’d created with his body. The stones that decorated his tassel still carried its faint imprint from Dachvinder’s hive, a calming sense of belonging. He let the echo sink into his traumatized body, gratefully taking in whatever comfort it could give him.

Vittesh usually let Mik have five minutes alone after a client finished with him, but the yellow chime sounded after only three. Mik’s moment was over.

He stifled his sobs and shakily pushed himself to his feet, climbed up on the restraint table and lay on it face down. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a few deep shuddering breaths, calming himself into silence. He turned his focus towards the door.

The green chime sounded and the door opened. Vittesh captured Mik’s full attention. Vittesh was the only Ulkaar Mik had met that could shield his emotions completely and he was doing so now. Mik couldn’t feel anything from him. He walked over to where Mik was laying on the table. His rough hand ran down Mik’s body. Mik forced himself not to tighten under Vittesh’s touch but he couldn’t keep from trembling. Vittesh could turn brutal without warning.

“Will your healing last though another session, Slut?”

“No, sir.” His ability to heal himself was almost nonexistent at the moment.

“Fuck.” Vittesh muttered softly. “Naarz. Go get Mauri, and send Harna with the blood.”

“Yes, sir.” A voice said from the doorway and bare feet quickly padded away.

“You’re meeting a prospective buyer next, Slut.”

“Yes, sir.” Something inside Mik tensed. Please, gods, let them buy me.

It was something of a ritual now, interested buyers coming to look at Mik. But the price Chentzo had set for Mik’s purchase was too high and he was much too used for anyone to seriously consider buying him. Vittesh allowed anyone who wanted the novelty of looking Mik over the chance though. He knew it killed a little bit more of Mik’s hope each time a perspective buyer rejected him.

An Ir’Klahn man who was interested in buying Mik had visited yesterday and he had seemed serious. He was ready to buy Mik on the spot, but when he heard that Mik was under Jurverian protection, he said he had to consult with his fellow investors before he signed on their behalf. Before he had left the man had made another appointment to come back and sign the paperwork if they all agreed to buy him despite his Jurverian protection.

Mik was desperate for anyone to buy him, but nearly anyone would be better than that man. The things Mik had seen in his mind when the man had used him was no better than what Mik had here with Vittesh, it was possibly even worse.

Harna came into the room. “Here you go, sir.”

Mik forced his body to remain relaxed as Vittesh tightly squeezed Mik’s forearm, found a vein and roughly shoved a needle into it. Vittesh released him and cold blood flooded into Mik’s veins. It was Kaylor blood, as usual. It felt like a sickness entering his body. He shuddered. At least the blood was old enough that it had lost its faint connection to its original owner. If the blood was sufficiently fresh Mik would find the emotions and sometime thoughts of its last owner streaming into his body till Mik cut the link.

Kaylor blood was made of ideal components for his body to turn into something useful, but without sunlight, his body in its current state couldn’t do anything with it. That’s where Mauri came in. She tended the plants around Chentzo’s club. She was Faereigh, she had the ability to give plants health. It turned out her powers worked on Mik too. It wasn’t a perfect substitute for the sun, the grow lights he’d had in his room back on Galor’s ship had been better, but her powers worked well enough to keep him alive.

Vittesh attached force restraints to Mik’s wrists and ankles securing him to the table. A large, thick gooey patch was smoothed over his throat and the sound of MIk’s breathing cut off. The patch made sure no sound could leave his throat, mouth or nasal passages. He squeezed his eyes shut, let out a deep breath, and relaxed. The cuffs would keep him from hurting anyone and the patch would keep him from getting in trouble for not keeping his noise sufficiently contained.

Mik began to go through the familiar ritual of preparing himself for service. Gods I give myself to you. Accept my service, please use it to bring life to my brothers, sisters and siblings. He could smell Mauri coming down the hall. He swallowed harshly. Lend me strength, queen of my heart. Send me your song.

As he readied himself he maintained his focus on Vittesh. Vittesh was gathering up the things the last client had left scattered around the room. I will not fear the pain. Every time Vittesh paused or came closer to Mik, Mik’s breath hitched ever so slightly, but each time Vittesh chose not to hurt him, yet.

I will allow the pain to flow through me and teach me to become stronger. He concentrated on the outcome of the coming pain. His body would be replenished, he would gain more time to live, to serve life and the gods. I receive this gift with gratitude.

“Hello, Argent.” Mauri said in her soft voice. Mik didn’t know why she called him Argent, but she always had. She gently combed back the stray hair that had fallen across his face. “You are ready?” Mik took a fraction of a moment to enjoy this small bit of physical contact which didn’t cause him pain or fear. It would be a few weeks before he would see Mauri again. He nodded.

“Alright.” She rested her palms on his back. “You have been getting weaker, faster, Argent. I am concerned for you.” Mik could feel her palms brightening against his skin, then her power flowed into Mik’s body. There was a brief moment of relief: his ravenous hunger was being filled, then his suffering began again.

Mauri’s energy flooded into Mik and his body immediately began to disassemble the Kaylor blood, merging it with her energy and remaking it into something that wasn’t quite Durweh blood, but close enough for Mik to be able to heal again. As each new blood cell was created it forged a connection to his neural network, it was the pins and needles feeling of a sleeping limb coming awake again, but it filled his entire body.

The newly made blood quickly began to heal the damage in Mik’s body that had been left unhealed earlier, because it was not dangerous enough to waste what little healing ability he had left. For Mik, healing was the pain of rapidly experiencing injuries in reverse. His body went ridged with agony, as cracked bones, damaged organs, torn and bruised skin knitted back together. His arms and legs pulled mindlessly at the force restraints; the restraints tightened on him unmercifully.

Dachvinder’s faithful song began to sing inside Mik, giving his exhausted mind comfort, but it did nothing to lessen his pain. Mik shrieked out a scream in an attempt to help move the agony through and out of his body. The patch gobbled up the noise leaving his gaping mouth silent and useless. Tears dripped down his cheeks. Please, gods, give me strength!

Mik’s mind frantically kept track of Vittesh and Mauri as long as he could, but Mauri was gone before Mik realized she had finished. Vittesh was gone too. Mik relaxed against the table breathing hard, hoping he wouldn’t be punished for allowing his attention to falter. The force cuffs loosened their grip on him. His eyes fluttered shut and he began to lightly doze. His body was never quite healthy enough to heal away his exhaustion. Vittesh returned a few moments later and Mik snapped awake.

Vittesh still had his emotions shielded. He jerked the patch off Mik’s throat and carefully put it back into its case, then slid the case into his pocket. “Finished, Slut?”

“Yes, sir.” Vittesh was already passing his cuff over the force restraints on Mik’s ankles and wrists. They popped open and Mik pushed himself up into a sitting position.

“Come on.” Vittesh led him down the hall, to the tiled room lined with shower nozzles. “Be quick.” He crossed one set of arms and leaned against the doorway, waiting.

Mik stepped under a shower spigot and turned it on. Icy water sprayed down on him. He tried to move quickly and efficiently as he showered and then dried himself off. Vittesh tossed a loose pair of pants and a tank top at him. “Get dressed.”

“Yes, sir.” Mik puzzled over the odd choice of attire as he pulled it on. He hadn’t worn anything so normal since he had been turned over to Chentzo by the Jurverian.

“Come on,” Vittesh said as soon as Mik finished dressing. He led Mik down the hall to the elevator, passed his cuff over the elevator scanner and a few moments later the elevator doors opened. Vittesh stepped inside and Mik followed. He knelt on the elevator floor near Vittesh. Vittesh laid a heavy hand on Mik’s head and played with his hair. “Behave yourself. Chentzo hopes that with two buyers interested at the same time, he might actually make a sale this time.”

“Yes, sir.” Did this sentient seem like a serious buyer then? Please, gods… He swallowed down the rest of his plea. He had already asked, if it was to be, it would be. It was better for him to remain content than to hope for a change in fortune that might never come. The desire that had woken in his chest wouldn’t go back to sleep though.

The elevator had risen two levels. Mik tried to keep his body from shaking as he felt the sun coming closer. I am not going outside, he reminded himself.

“Don’t get too excited though. I doubt they’ll be interested in ruined goods like you.”

“Yes, sir.” The little spark of hope in Mik’s chest flickered, but it still didn’t die entirely. They went up another floor.

Vittesh’s thick fingers tightened in Mik’s hair. “And be honest, you’d miss me if anyone else bought you. I’m the only one who understands what you really need.”

Mik kept his breathing even, forced his voice to remain steady. “Of course, sir.” He waited but Vittesh didn’t hurt him, his hand just remained tight in Mik’s hair. The elevator went up one more level and the doors opened. Vittesh released Mik and walked out of the elevator. Mik rose and followed.

In the hallway two familiar scents caught Mik’s attention. His heart gave an excited lurch. General Kahn was here. If he bought Mik, he would keep him for himself. Mik could be happy with him. But then he realized that the general hadn’t ever visited him here in the brothel. He had probably been busy and was just now able to find the time to exercise his right to punish Mik for betraying his investment. He also might be there for another reason altogether.

Vittesh opened a door and motioned for Mik to enter. Chentzo was inside along with three other men, all Ir’Klahn. One of them was General Kahn. Mik swallowed. The man with the other familiar scent was in the room as well. He had never visited Mik, but Mik had smelled his scent around the brothel several times. The third man was a stranger.

The general had probably come to punish Mik after all and had brought some friends to share the experience with. Vittesh would get a laugh out of raising Mik’s hopes for being bought and Chentzo always enjoyed watching Mik get punished so that explained his presence.

Mik felt like his chest was being crushed in a force restraint. He shoved his disappointed hopes and rising fears down and locked them away. His only function here was to obey these men, to allow them to do anything they wanted with his body and emotions. When they were finished he would be brought back to the showers where he would wash and prepare for his next client. It was just another ordinary day.

Gods I give myself to you. Accept my service…