Gravitation Fan Fiction ❯ Captivation (formerly The Spoils of War) ❯ Chapter Three: The Attendant ( Chapter 3 )

A ship heading for war torn provinces was the last place Shuichi ever wanted to find himself, but unfortunately that was exactly where he was. He groaned as the ship gave another large heave, and curled his body in on itself in an effort to stem the waves of nausea that were nearly overwhelming him. Despite what his shipmates told him, it wasn't just the motion of the ship that was causing him to feel ill. The majority of it was coming from anxiety and fear. Fear of what awaited him on the other side of their journey.

 

He listened, body gripped with fear, as stories were told by those onboard who had heard word from northern relatives. Stories of explosions, blood, trauma and brutal deaths in hospices or at the hands of foreign barbarians. From the sounds of things the men of Maric were not fairing as well as anticipated against the northern nation of Cerlia. Nobody had planned on the tiny nation having the man power they were displaying, or the large arsenal of advanced weaponry they were so effortlessly wielding against Maric's opposing legions.

Shuichi's commanders dismissed the horrid tales as hearsay and often tried to raise moral by turning conversations to woman, riches, sex or any of a great number of topics (most of them lewd) that all stemmed from the sentence ,“Boys, when we win this thing…”, but everybody knew that the stories, hearsay or not, held weight in the mind of every man aboard the vessel.

 

Talk in the recruits quarters at night often turned to women as well, or families and lives left behind. The bunks themselves offered little in the ways of homely comfort so the men did what they could to take their minds elsewhere. Many of them had trinkets from their women or from loved ones and these were bragged about and passed around the bunks for others to examine, whenever talk headed in such a direction.

Made out of wood and the same material as the ships broad sails, the bunks were small, cramped and uncomfortable to say the least. Construction was exceedingly simple; A six foot by three foot piece of duck canvas was stretched out and lashed tightly to an open wooden frame with leather thongs so as to form something that, when there was a man laying on it, resembled either a sagging mattress or fairly taught hammock.

These towering bunk frames slept ten men each and stretched out in long rows along the length of the ships quarters. Each bunk was accessed via the planks of wood used to secure the various units together. These rough ladders also served an additional function as hooks for jackets, tunics, trousers or any number of things. Shuichi, laying five men up in his own tiny bunk tried to ignore the discomfort in his back, the nausea in his stomach and the pain in his heart by curling himself around the one thing that provided solace in what he regarded as his life's darkest hours. His treasures from home.

 

His collection consisted of a small toy top from Al-chi, a silver cross from his mother, and an old, dull, horseshoe nail from his father. A white silk kerchief with pink and gold embroidery around the edges, Maiko's favorite as he recalled, held everything together in a small bundle. This tiny collection of what some might have deemed junk, was more dear to him than anything ever had been before. He always refrained from passing it to his shipmates when others were doing so with their own.

He couldn't bear to lose it or see it damaged in any way by someone careless.

It never left his person for any reason because if ever he needed it--and he often did--he could reach into his pocket for strength, for courage and for the love he knew his family members were channeling to him through the objects they had given. Even though they were miles away they were still his support and his reason for pushing on into the face of the unknown.

 

As he lie there willing himself to sleep, surrounded by the sounds and smells of two hundred other men, he felt inexpressibly alone. His mind drifted to fate and he wondered, why me? Why was I chosen for this suffering? What have I ever done to anyone to deserve this? Will I ever see my family again? Am I going to die?

As usual his questions went unanswered.

With some effort on his part, and with the help of the familiar little bundle in the palm of his hand, thoughts of his family soon filled his head. As he imagined what his sister's wedding must have been like, For he had not been able to attend, Shu slowly drifted towards a restless sleep.

 

~*~*~*~

 

After what seemed like only seconds of sleep, Shu awoke to the shouting and scrambling of his fellow shipmates as they franticly dashed about the lower deck. As it happened every time he woke since being drafted, he couldn't remember where he was or how he had gotten there. This split second of panicked confusion --normally replaced with the crushing pain of reality-- was instead replaced with fear and apprehension at the alarmed state of the ship. This was not normal behavior as he had come to know it onboard the vessel. Something was happening and he needed to find out what.

 

After scrambling into what little clothing he had removed the night before, Shuichi broke into a run after one of the younger recruits he shared a bunk with.

“Carmin! Hey, Carmin, wait for me! What's going on?!”

The boy turned back, eyes wildly searching for the familiar voice, but he didn't stop moving.

“Cerlian's!” he shouted over the noise that surrounded them, “They're approaching from the northwest in enemy vessels!”

Two larger men broke through them and knocked Carmin down. Shuichi bent quickly to help him back to his feet so they could continue their frenzied quest to find an officer, or a place to hide.

 

“They've sent a volley of arrows already, Two of the sergeants were hit, and they missed with a canon ball by only a hairs--!”

He didn't get to finish his sentence as a massive explosion ripped through the side of the ship, sending wood and metal shrapnel whizzing and flying in all directions. A jagged, inch-wide piece caught Shuichi in the shoulder and he screamed in agony as he fell. The splinter of wood seemed to reach out inside his flesh with burning, razor sharp roots.

He felt the warm gush of blood start to trickle down his arm, soaking his jacket and the shirt beneath, but suddenly he didn't care about that. He stared, mortified and frozen with anguish, to where Carmin; kind, dark haired, Carmin, lay only a foot to his left.

 

The youth was silent and impossibly still, his neck bent at an odd angle. Next to him lay a piece of banding steel from one of the ships girders, blood staining it's edges where it must have struck him.

Tears of pain, fear and grief ran down Shuichi's face as he screamed his fury to any god who was listening. The stress of everything he had been forced against his will to endure in the past month rose to the surface like a whale breaking the surf, in desperate need of air.

 

He screamed and gasped and cried profusely as he reached out with his good arm to draw Carmin's cap down over his eyes, which continued to stare blankly at nothing. Shu hadn't known the boy exceptionally well, but he couldn't have been much older than fifteen and he had done nothing that warranted such a needless death. Not there. Not like that. The injustice of the whole ordeal was crushing.

 

The blood from Shu's arm was now dripping down his fingers and forming a rich warm puddle beneath. Shuichi's vision, now thoroughly blurred by tears, began to waver from stress, exhaustion and from the loss of blood he was ignoring. Blearily he slumped forward onto Carmin's body, now vaguely aware that he might be dying too. His keening slowed to a low persistent sob as a comforting wave of pale warm light began enveloping him. Assuming this was death trying to claim him, Shu began to fight it's playful, warm tugs at his wakefulness. The light began to intensify and the soft warmth around his body began to burn as he resisted. The pull on his senses was becoming increasingly vigorous, as death now attempted to tear him from existence instead of just coaxing him out of it.

Struggling to stay conscious, he used the last of his strength to reach into his pocket and pull out his bundle from home. If he was going to die he would do it surrounded by the memories of his family. Whether he was destined for heaven of hell was the last thing he contemplated as he finally gave into death's punishing, warm, embrace.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Drifting for what seemed like days in an endless black ocean, Shuichi's mind flitted through varying degrees of consciousness. Every time he thought he might be waking up, his awareness would suddenly be dragged out from under him by some unknown source and he would sink deeper into the darkness. The almost-thoughts he couldn't quite grasp teased him as they ran in colorful circles around his head. Where was he? Was this what death felt like? When would he arrive at his destination? So many questions he couldn't keep in place long enough to think about ran through his head, ducking in and out of the beams of the light and shadow that made up his surreal state of semi-consciousness.

 

Frustration billowed up inside him as he grabbed madly at the shining mist and darkness swirling around him. The bright, whirling colors of his thoughts and memories dashed just out of his reach every time he made a reach for them, laughing and chatting with each other as though amused by his plight. A vague sense of fear started to take him over as he slowly worked his way towards another swell of awareness. What if he was in purgatory? What if he would never escape this dark prison of existence and not ever be able to think about his past life, or his future? That, he would not stand for.

He could feel himself climbing slowly, on another rise towards his memories and thoughts. They looked down at him smiling as they swam just out of reach, urging him to give chase. As he started to swim towards them through the thick black of the darkness, a slow growl of frustration escaped his lips. The memories and thoughts shone brighter than ever at the sound of his straining voice, encouraging him to try.

 

“Come on, that's it, come on,” they chanted musically as he struggled to kick towards them. His anger was building steadily now as they smiled and urged him forward.

 

“Come on, that's it, open them,” they whispered, swirling effortlessly through the mist as every fiber of his being strained to catch up.

He could see the surface now, shining and pale above his head. This was the closest he had come to it since giving in to death back on the ship and he was not going to let it slip away.

 

“Are you awake?” a voice asked him shyly, as a growing warmth began to make the assent easier. Struggling to find his voice, he looked once again to the memories, as one by one they broke through the surface he was desperately trying to reach, melding with it and gifting the void with their colors. He could see flashes of his childhood; his sister picking flowers to put on the table, the blue snake his brother had caught. He saw their faces streaming with tears as he rode away from them, bound for the ship that they were sure would take him to his death.

An explosion, a burst of pain and Carmin's blank, dead, face were next to appear before him and this he could not bear. A scream and then a wave of tears escaped him and at first the wetness on his face surprised him. Thus far he had not felt anything in the blackness, though he was certain he had cried a number of times.

 

As if repelled by the tears, Carmin's face shifted to become that of the strange lord he'd met in the capital. It was strong, fine lined and stunning, though the hair and clothing of this memory were altered a bit. For some reason this man had gold hair and dark red robes, not how Shuichi had remembered him, though perhaps he was mistaken. This pale haired face was kind, and it loomed over his for quite a time, distracting him from the agony of his muscles. The next thing he knew someone was tapping his cheek lightly with a soft warm hand. He reached over drowsily to grab it, as it was getting rather annoying, and was shocked when his arm did what he told it to. Was he awake?

“Heaven?” he murmured, and a soft voice whispered back, “Not exactly.”

 

Frantically he flicked his eyes open, brought his hands up to touch his chest, his face. Gasping his surprise, realizing he had managed to escape the darkness after all. He was awake.

“Shh, easy now, little one,” a low purring voice whispered, and Shu remembered he was not alone. He turned his head towards the voice and jumped when his eyes made contact with those of a cat. Only this was not a cat's face. These eyes were on the face of a person; a person the likes of which Shuichi had never seen before in even his wildest dreams.

 

“Do not be afraid, Little One, I mean you no harm,” the cat man said softly, in that same low purring tone Shu now began to recognize. He had heard it while he was swimming through the darkness. It had been encouraging him to fight, to stay strong, to escape. It was partly the voices fault he had taken so long to break free of the hold the darkness had put on him, for it was lulling, soft and musical. He remembered it encouraging him to sleep, to be still, and he remembered that it was impossible for him not to do as it had suggested.

 

Shuichi froze, not sure what to do or say to this stranger. Anxiously, he began taking stock of his surroundings. It was all vaguely familiar, though Shu could say with some certainty he'd never been in the room before.

He was laying, naked he noted, under a pile of silky white blankets in a very soft bed. The frame was ornately carved yet looked to be of simple construction and crafted from some shiny silver metal Shu had never seen before. The room was shimmering, glassy and glowing with a soft white light that seemed to come from the walls themselves. People shaped shadows moved about outside the walls, as though they were made of some kind of milky substance that was not completely solid. Other than the bed, and the strange, cat-man sitting next to his bed, there was nothing else in the room. There wasn't even a door from what the boy could see.

 

Shu felt himself rather fortunate that the man was all he had to look at, for his appearance needed some time to take in all on it's own. For starters his skin was a dazzling lilac hue, decorated just under the outer corners of his eyes and around his bare shoulders with dark violet and bright white stripes. The white stripes seemed to glow faintly, much like the walls of the room.

His face was very human shaped, though certainly not dull or unpleasant. He certainly had a feline air to him, given mostly by the large, olive shaped eyes with their elliptical pupils and vibrant blue-gold irises that took up a bit more of his face than the eyes of a regular person.

 

His hair, for the most part, hung straight and was shaded in several luminous reds, ranging from a deep, almost black scarlet, to a red brighter than the skin of a ripe tomato. Intricate braids started from his temples and wound up artfully with pieces of his enviously long hair which kept it from his face, yet allowed it to flow freely down his back. The ornate styling centered around a glowing silver circlet that wrapped gently around his forehead, the ends of which were lost beyond his temples, into the mass of red locks. Silver vines curved and twirled in a delicate V between his eyebrows, accented with dainty garnet flowers that sported intricately carved green opal leaves. Lovely ears with long tapered tips swept back luxuriously from his head, dotted periodically with gemstone earrings to match those in his circlet.

Shuichi decided that the man's appearance screamed of royalty, and it made him wonder what he was doing sitting next to his bed?

 

“W-who are you?” Shuichi stammered at the man, now starting to wonder if he wasn't dead and in heaven after all.

The man smiled widely at this and Shu gasped when he saw two long, refined, razor sharp canines descending from his upper jaw. The man quickly closed his mouth, not wanting to frighten the poor boy any further.

 

“Currently, I am known as Attendant number One Four Two dash Alpha Seven Zero.” He replied whimsically, his voice calm and reassuring, “But that, I have found, is quite cumbersome to remember. You may give me whatever name you think is fitting, Little One.”

This knowledge unnerved Shuichi quite a bit. How in the world did he go from dying to naming what obviously appeared to be a grown man? Surely he was still dreaming.

 

He looked around the room once more, as if looking for the edge of his dream, or for something else to let him know one way or the other.

He saw nothing but decided that it wasn't the worst dream he'd ever had and that he was just going to have to run with it.

Shu turned back to the man beside him, and the anxious, anticipatory stare he was receiving clearly told him that this was important to the cat-man and that he didn't have much of a choice.

 

“Uh…well…I haven't ever named a… person, before and honestly I don't think I want the responsibility. Why don't you, just…pick a name for yourself?”

The mans eyes went wide with shock, both at the idea of being allowed to name himself, and at being referred to as a person. Neither of which had happened to him in all his long years of service.

“You would have me pick a name for myself?”

“If it's okay with you, yes, I would much rather you pick something.”

 

It was not exactly in his makeup, to be able to think of names for himself, and it took him a moment to piece together a solution. He decided to run a list of names he had had in the past and pick from them based on pre-established criteria. He paused for a moment as he sorted through the names before settling on one that he found to be pleasing to the ear, as well as easily pronounced and remembered.

 

“I believe I shall call myself Hiro, it that suits you, Little One.”

“If it suits me?” Shuichi asked quizzically, “Oh, never mind. Does it make you happy, Hiro?”

The man gave a reserved smiled, trying to contain his excitement. This time he was careful to hide his fangs as he remembered the reaction they had garnered from his young charge last time.

“Yes,” he answered simply, “However, if you would like to give me a different name of your own choosing in the future, then that is certainly your prerogative.”

 

“No no, Hiro is just fine by me. Why would I want to give you a different name if that one makes you happy?”

The newly named Hiro sighed, and deliberated for a moment over the correct way to address the situation. His happiness shouldn't be as important as the Little One's, certainly, but for some reason the boy was unable to let it go.

“Forgive me, but it is…unusual, for me to have someone so concerned with my happiness as you are. It is just the way of our… relationship, Little One, that you would name me as you see fit and not care so terribly much about whether or not I am happy. It makes life much easier on everyone.”

 

“Wait, our relationship?” Shuichi was more than just perplexed now, he was starting to feel anxious and scared. He put out his hand as though to keep this Hiro at a distance in case he tried anything. Shuichi was now very concerned that he was naked. If he needed to get up and run, trying to cover himself with a blanket was going to make things more difficult.

 

“Please do not interpret that in a devious way,” Hiro stated in a slightly defensive manner, “I simply did not know the correct term in your language with which to describe our--” he struggled to find a new meaning to use, “--Our connection to each other.”

 

“What do you mean, my language? Where am I? How did I get here?!” Shuichi shouted, his voice coming out a little louder than he meant for it to.

Hiro put out his hands slowly and brought them down towards his knees, the glowing light from the walls dimming slightly as he did so. Shuichi started to feel calmer as the lights softened, though now he was really starting to wonder how everything in the room worked. This was definitely one of his more creative dreams.

 

“I am only authorized to give partial answers to those questions, Little One, but I will do my best to ease your uncertainty. Now, if you would please settle back and rest, I will try and explain in terms you will understand.”

 

Shuichi did not feel like settling down, nor did he feel like resting. He wanted answers. But if Hiro would not give him what he wanted, then he would comply until he got the information he was looking for. He couldn't very well escape if he didn't know where he was.

 

“Now, where to begin…” Hiro reached out and took Shuichi's hand in his own. The boy was startled by how velvety and soft the mans hands were. It was as if his skin was covered in extremely short, glistening, fur; invisible to the eye but noticeable to the touch. He started to feel much more relaxed despite the fact that this strange man was touching him.

“I do not wish to frighten you little one and if it were up to me I would not be telling you this, but I am…obligated, to comply with your demands, so I must warn you that the answers you seek may not be the answers you wish to hear. Do I have your permission to continue?”

 

“I'll take my chances,” Shu mumbled, “Please continue.”

 

“As you wish.” He gave a slight bow. “You are currently residing in Alpha Capsule Ten dash Two Five Delta Nine, in the healing quadrant of Lord Tatsuha's flagship, The Neela. You were brought here by Lord Tatsuha from your home planet via locational-transmutation. I am able to speak every language in the known galaxy, though I have not had to access knowledge of your language in a great many years. It is coming back to me now, but much slower than most due to it's lack of use. I believe that is everything, as your people might say, in a nut-shell?”

 

Shuichi couldn't comprehend half of what Hiro had said to him. Healing quadrant? Home planter? Locational-transmu-whatever? Galaxy? Those answers weren't helpful, they had only served to create more questions! Shu's head started to throb painfully and Hiro, noting the tension forming on his young charge's forehead, held up two fingers on one hand and drew through the air in a waving, semi-circular pattern. The lights in the room darkened further and Shuichi felt instant relief as the bed spread began making his skin tingle. Within minutes the headache that had been forming was no more than a passing memory.

 

“It's gone, how did you do that?”

Hiro stared blankly. “I did nothing. I simply told the room what medication to administer to you, the room did as I asked and now you feel better.”

 

“W-wha…How…But, but how did you--”

Hiro leaned in and put one hand over Shuichi's eyes, another under his chin.

“Shhh, sleep Little One. All will be clear when you awake next, I promise.”

As soon as Hiro touched his eyes, Shu was immediately dragged off into unconsciousness once more.

 

Hiro reached to pull the beds covers back up under his charge's chin, so he would be warm while he slept. He motioned to the room to dim the lights completely and then told it to begin streaming an information channel into the boys head, filling it with basic knowledge of modern technologies and terminology, which he would most certainly need if he were to belong to Lord Tatsuha's father, The Great King Aescal.

Aescal's menagerie of pets was the most richly decorated in all of Accerian society and it took a fair share of technological marvels to make life and care of such a large population more manageable.

 

Accerian society was not primitive by any stretch and though they were not known to possess especially great levels intelligence, it was common place for most pets to know how to interact with the simpler devices and mechanics inside their homes. Attendants were in charge of most tasks, but even the simplest of devices within a menagerie, would all but boggle the mind of a wild caught specimen, (or “exotic pet” as was the more common and much more marketable term). Especially one from such an underdeveloped planet as Hiro's new charge.

 

While the technical term for a pet was “sex slave”, there were few pets in existence that were truly forced to live in their harems, so it was difficult to continue the use of the archaic term. Most were chosen at such a young age to be bound; either bred specifically for the pet trade, or sold by their parents as infants, that being a pet was all they ever knew of life.

Of course, they knew of the world outside their own, some surely even had vague memories of their nursery days a fledglings, before they had met their attendants and started the transformation into who they were. But pets were taught that life outside the menagerie was harsh, cruel and bitter.

This very innate fear of the outside world made most of them docile and more readily accepting of harsh treatments at the hands of their masters. It was their belief that surely nothing that could happen to them in the menagerie, even the most deviant sexual proclivities of their masters, could possibly be worse then the life they could have been out living on the streets of Acceria. One form of punishment a particularly cruel master could use, was to have the pet placed down in a less favorable district. Sometimes over night or longer. Most were never in any real danger, as most pets were ridiculously expensive, and thus, well protected pieces of property, but the pet was made to believe he or she was all alone. Needless to say, any pet exposed to such culture shock would be obedient for the rest of it's life when, and if, it was returned to it's gilded cage. If not, well, then they were never truly pet material in the first place and many were considered incorrigible and promptly disposed of if correction after temporary banishment was required. A disobedient pet took up space that a well behaved pet could be occupying in a home or menagerie and most owners were not so well off as to keep an unruly, disobedient pet around that was not worth the imposing expenditure of funds necessary to keep it.

 

The attendant sighed quietly as he made to leave the boy's room. It was clear that his charge still assumed he was dreaming, and with all the things that had been displayed before him, even in a room as dull as a healing pod, it was understandable. Understandable, but it would need to be rectified if he was to make any progress before they reached Acceria.

He caught himself smiling gently at his Little One, and quickly toughened his expression.

Hiro was not often so taken with his charges. Most of the mindless idiots he had attended to in his youth treated him as though he didn't exist and certainly none had cared whether or not he was happy.

It came with the task of training and attending to pets, especially those that were purpose-bred, that he would to be ignored most of the time though, he reminded himself, it hadn't always bothered him. In his youth he hadn't felt any self satisfaction or accomplishment in his training if he couldn't get a pet to the stage where it was conceited enough to treat him as nothing more than a decorative accessory. That was, after all, the entire purpose of the training; to create a proud pet.

A proud, arrogant, pet had no shame and a pet with no shame was highly valued. After six hundred years or so, however, the constant arrogance had begun to wear on him.

Actually, it wasn't until after the eight hundred year mark that he began to relish the day his charge would be purchased, and take a different attendant in it's new master's home. This was not always the case however, sometimes he had had to go along because a pet and his or her attendant went together everywhere until the attendant's service was terminated.

Most pets, and for this Hiro was incredibly grateful, decided to take new attendants in their new homes, if their master allowed it; Most were more than happy to give them what they wanted.

 

Pet's were incredibly fickle and selfish, always wanting more, always wanting to have things that others did not. And they were always concerned with their own appearance as it was most often their strongest selling point. So, many would try to acquire an attendant that was exactly their height, or one with skin that better matched their hair color or any other mindless criteria they could come up with. The harder it was for their master to find, the more it pleased them.

 

Hiro put out a closed hand and turned it, as if gripping a door knob and an arched hole sprung out of the wall to allow him to leave. His charge's training was certainly going to be more difficult now that he had begun to form an attachment to him --something that was strongly discouraged-- but Hiro knew he had been chosen specifically for this charge by Lord Tatsuha himself and he was not about to let the man down by failing in his duties or producing a sub-par product.

He was over eleven hundred years old, one of the most experienced pet attendants in all of Acceria. In all that time he had never failed once to transform even the most difficult of wild caught slaves into an exotic pet with behaviour fitting that of royalty.

Affections or not, this boy would be no exception.

 

~*~*~*~

 

AN: Well now wasn't that interesting.

 

For Gurabite Reviewers:

 

Mia: So glad you enjoyed it hun! I am not usually one for AU's either, but then again I haven't ever seen on like this ^_^