by Leo Hull
He was not encouraged at what he found.
Annik was strung up by her arms, her head drooping. Whatever trick had led to her capture left its mark across her belongings. Her armor laid in a pile at her feet and black soot marks streaked across the once gleaming chest plate. Her clothes were in rough shape, with charred holes so large Tristan wondered how they still clung to her. Not that he minded the view of her athletic body. She’d been shaped by years of the same training Tristan had undergone, and unlike him, she hadn’t added a layer of fat from a life of debauchery.
With Annik’s arms stretched above her, the long lines of her body seemed to go on forever. The tatters of her shirt blew in the breeze, giving glimpses of her breasts. Tristan followed the curve of hip to the hard V that pointed tantalizingly into her shredded trousers. His mouth felt dry, and not just from his rough afternoon clearing years of toxins from his body. Her pants covered her, but just barely and Tristan felt himself staring at the soft skin of her thighs.
“No one was there,” a bubbly voice called, startling Tristan with its closeness.
How had he missed her approach? Tristan flushed at the realization he’d been leering at Annik with single-minded focus rather than clearing the scene.
“I told you it was just an animal startled by your bolt,” a man answered from just a few yards to the side of Annik, his unexpected voice causing a hitch in Tristan’s breathing. Tristan’s view was blocked by a tree, but a proper Bolstered would have noticed him anyways. “She’s alone and doesn’t even have a Bonding Sliver on her, so relax. No one is coming for her.”
Tristan shifted, his heart racing as he took in the wiry frame of a dark-haired man sitting against a tree, a sword casually across his lap. He was tanned and wore leather armor that, while covering the vulnerable points of his torso, seemed to prioritize mobility over protection. Tristan cursed inwardly at the sight and scanned the clearing for Annik’s weapon before ducking back. He didn’t relish the thought of facing a sword with just his knife.
The two spoke with a strange accent, their consonants hard and syllables clipped—yet Tristan could understand them. He vaguely recalled the scholars of Aeol lecturing on the Fallen and how the peoples the Empire had made contact with elsewhere all spoke derivatives of the same language. Confronting the reality of an undiscovered civilization was far more startling than the droning teachers’ lessons.
“I thought I heard metal crashing,” the girl responded as she walked into the clearing, pulling Tristan’s attention after her like a lure.
The woman was unlike anyone Tristan had ever seen. Silver hair spilled around slender shoulders, glimmering like metal threads. She walked with an easy, confident gait, her hips hypnotizing Tristan as they rolled with each step. Fields of tanned skin was exposed by some sort of leather armor, though it didn’t appear to provide much actual protection. Her flat stomach was bare to her sternum. Straps crisscrossed her shoulders to keep a top in place that threatened exposing her breasts with each step. They looked like the perfect handful, but Tristan forced himself to assess the rest of this latest…threat.
The remainder of her armor—leather guards on her forearms and a skirt that appeared to be straps of leather fastened to her belt—provided as much protection as her top. Tristan gawked as the lithe woman sauntered into view, her ass swaying in an outfit that Tristan wondered if the Corp would consider adopting to improve morale. Tristan adjusted himself, glad he didn’t have on the confining metal armor he should have.
“I told you—just a spooked animal,” the man repeated. With grudging effort, Tristan forced his gaze away from this siren and focused on the real threat. “Is she still out?”
“You’re the one who was here with her. Why haven’t you checked?” the woman retorted with more than a hint of frustration. She stepped closer to Annik and gasped. “Her skin!”
“What about it?” The man sounded bored.
“Where are the burn marks? It’s like I didn’t even zap her!”
“Maybe you’re losing your touch, Nessa.” The man sneered. He pushed himself up and stretched, his sword flashing carelessly in the air above his head. He caught it in a branch and cursed as he twisted and pulled to free it.
Nessa rolled her eyes and stepped even closer to Annik, running her hands along the unconscious woman’s skin and pushing clothing aside as she sought evidence of whatever had been done to her. Tristan knew she wouldn’t find any. Unlike him, Annik was sure to have trained herself to unconsciously make use of the Bolstered’s Gift to heal. He didn’t understand what zap meant, but he knew from experience that someone like Annik could heal even a deep gash in a matter of hours.
Tristan longed to watch Nessa inspect Annik, but now was his chance. Nessa was busy with Annik and the man still struggled with his sword, worse even than Tristan’s ineptness.
After the cleanse and hike his reserves were nearly exhausted, but sometimes it was worth pushing dangerously close to the edge. The aches of his hike and unceremonious tumble vanished as he let the Bolstered’s Gift fill him. Blood swelled his muscles as every tendon and cord bunched and ached for release.
Never the best student, Tristan had still gotten enough slaps across the head to absorb the basic lessons. The Corps had always emphasized taking every advantage, so Tristan didn’t hesitate to silently spring his ambush. Dagger in hand, he exploded from his hiding spot and was two steps from the man by the time Nessa uttered a strangled yelp of surprise.
The man turned, too late to arrest Tristan’s charge but with enough warning to knock Tristan’s arm to the side. The knife buried into the tree trunk rather than his neck. But he had no defense for Tristan’s other fist. Tristan’s left smashed into his face, snapping his head back with a satisfying pop.
Tristan let his rush carry forward and before the man could slump, Tristan slammed him to the tree. Tristan was not a small man and had been at a dead sprint for several yards. Months away from training had only added to his bulk, and even fat moving at the speed Tristan did became a weapon.
Tristan drove the air from his opponent’s lungs and cracked something in the man’s chest. Tristan drew back, one hand back ready to end this and the other holding the bastard that had strung Annik up.
And then pain.
It coursed through his body as if every inch of him was under attack. His muscles spasmed like a mass of eels, some seeming to relax and others tensing like the debilitating cramps he’d experienced during the first forced training sessions as a Bolstered. He couldn’t even turn to see what was causing this. He couldn’t even think. He fought to stay standing, his hand tightening on the man’s shoulder.
The grappled opponent was somehow still conscious. Worse, even though he winced in pain from Tristan’s assault, he smirked with unwarranted confidence. He pushed Tristan, a weak shove that Tristan should have shrugged off. Instead, Tristan toppled backwards supported only by the hand clutching the man’s shoulder. Tristan felt his grip slip, then as he fell backwards the pain vanished as if it had never been there. His muscles relaxed and he stumbled, regaining his feet.
Was this from touching the man? Some sort of defensive magic?
Tristan didn’t give himself, or the man, any time to think. As the man clutched at his neck as if searching for something lost, Tristan hit him square in the jaw, sending him unceremoniously to the ground.
Tristan panted and turned, expecting the man’s small companion to surrender. Instead, he was met by a small ball of crackling fury as the silver-haired woman leapt upon him, her hands full of lightning.
Pain seared Tristan, but in an unfortunate miscalculation for Nessa, his ability to stand finally lost out to the current running through his body. Tristan toppled forward, taking the small woman down with him. His body jerked and spasmed atop hers, and he would have felt sorry for her if she hadn’t been the cause.
The world dimmed as Tristan succumbed to whatever foreign force Nessa poured into him.
Chapter Three
> “Just bite him,” an impatient voice instructed, followed by a gentle nibble on his cheek. Tristan turned his head to meet soft, eager lips. He sighed into the kiss, his tongue reached out, questing for reciprocation.
How long had it been since he’d kissed a woman? Memories of the months and days before the expedition were hazy at best, but surely he’d spent his last night with a companion rather than alone. He ground against her, rising to the occasion as he felt his lover’s lips part to meet his tongue. She smelled like a forest breeze on a warm spring day, warm earthy tones underlaying playful hints of budding flora. He pushed her arms above her head, pinning her in place as she wrapped legs around him, her hips rising to his.
His body ached for release.
And just ached, Tristan realized. Awareness crept over him as he started to piece together recent events.
“That’s not what I meant, but I guess whatever works,” Annik said. “Now can you two stop and come untie me?”
Tristan opened his eyes and found himself face to face with the silver-haired Nessa. Tristan gasped as he took in her violet eyes, brilliant and open and flecked with blue and white streaks of what looked like a thunderstorm’s frozen fury. Her entrance into the clearing had been one he would remember until his death, but her eyes were uniquely beautiful and Tristan wanted to explore their amethyst depths. She smiled at him, a happy grin that sent shivers of need through Tristan. She was breathtaking, her youthful face as captivating as the way she’d walked into Tristan’s world.
Fully awake, Tristan realized he lay across her, pinning her in place with his weight. He could feel her chest heaving beneath him and her face was flushed as he ground his hardness against her. Nessa pulled back from the kiss, gasping for breath and not in the way a man would hope.
“I can’t breathe,” Nessa squeaked out. Her eyes glinted as she gasped, mischievous delight warring with breathless desperation.
“Right, sorry,” Tristan replied, reluctant awareness of his behavior dawning on him. He started to stand, then stopped as he remembered the way she’d brought him down. His hands tightened over her wrists. “You’re not going to zap me or whatever that was, right?”
Nessa smiled innocently, but her eyes flashed impishly. He twisted his head to look up at an annoyed Annik for guidance.
“We talked, she’s okay,” Annik said. “Now get up and cut me down.”
Tristan considered his options. Whatever Nessa’s power was, he’d either have to knock her out or trust her. He looked at her feminine face and wide, purple eyes—no way he could muster up the desire to hit her again, so trust it was.
“Please don’t make me hurt you,” Tristan said. He knew showing such weakness did him no favors if it did come to fighting, but he couldn’t bear the thought of possibly marring her beauty.
“She won’t. You still have that chain you ripped off Perran’s neck, right?” Annik asked. “What did you call it, Nessa, a Binding Sliver?”
“Perran? Chain?” Tristan asked, confused. He felt a gentle touch on his hand. Nessa ran her fingers along his and toyed with a metal chain wound around his hand. Where had that come from?
“Bonding Sliver,” Nessa corrected, her fingers playing along his. She stared into his eyes and she seemed as captivated with Tristan as he was with her. “And Perran is the man I was with. In the fight you tore the Sliver off him so I couldn’t project my lightning anymore.”
Tristan pulled his hand free and inspected the chain. It was simple, the only adornment a rather flat, dark fragment of metal smaller than a coin. There was no craft to the medallion. It looked like it had been cut or torn from a larger sheet without thought given to its shape. The edges and jagged corners had been polished smooth, but otherwise it looked like a piece of scrap.
“This?” Tristan asked holding it up.
“Yes, that was his half of the Sliver.” Her arm freed, Nessa pulled at a matching chain around her neck until she revealed a similar piece of metal. “It was bound to mine.”
Questions leapt to Tristan’s mind, but Annik had reached the limit of her patience.
“Enough chatter!” Annik’s clipped voice spat, her tone taking Tristan back to the training field. “Tristan, get your ass up and come cut me down. Nessa says it was just the two of them. From the way Perran scampered off I doubt he’ll be back, but we aren’t in a position to take any chances. You’ve been out for about ten minutes and we need to try to catch that fucker. He ran off with my pack.”
Tristan reluctantly pushed himself up, his eyes never leaving Nessa’s prone body. She stretched as he stood over her, her breasts threatening to fight their way free. She arched her back, her flat stomach begging for him to trail kisses down to what was teasingly flashed between the straps of her skirt. Nessa’s body twisted, ostensibly to stretch her legs after being pinned beneath his bulk, but her movement had the effect of further exposing herself to Tristan’s hungry gaze.
“By the Fallen, Tristan, if you don’t come cut me down right now, I’m going rip your arm off and beat you to death with it. This isn’t some Aeol tavern with barmaids trying to earn your coin!” Annik yelled at him. She turned her fiery gaze to his silver-hair partner. “Nessa, you’re next if you don’t stop the teasing.”
Nessa winked at Tristan, but let her body relax.
Tristan reluctantly stepped away and went to rescue his knife from the tree where’d he left it. He tucked away the Sliver, unsure of what it was but knowing from Annik’s words and Nessa’s behavior it was somehow important. With his back turned to the women, he quickly adjusted himself—not that either could have missed the obvious sign of his interest.
He cut Annik down and she immediately started to rub feeling back into her arms as she scouted the area. She explained how she’d recovered consciousness as Tristan lost his and then scared Perran off by pretending to raise the alarm and summon further reinforcements. The coward had fled, but not before grabbing Annik’s pack.
Tristan followed along, trying to ignore the nubile Nessa. The little vixen seemed intent on catching his eye, and her displays only escalated as she caught onto his obvious struggle to remain focused. Annik was right, the two of them were in a dangerous situation. Even one more combatant would have meant their capture or death, and Tristan felt certain Nessa and Perran didn’t live in this land as hermits given Nessa’s tailored outfit and Perran’s steel weapon.
Annik’s curses brought Tristan crashing through the woods to a small clearing. She held up her empty pack, the ground around her scattered with supplies.
“He took my communication crystal!” Annik groaned, followed by another string of curses, but this time from Nessa. The two Aeolians turned to see the lithe woman bent at the waist digging through a pile of her own discarded possessions.
Her legs stretched from the earth, shapely calves wrapped in leather straps and topped by taut hamstrings that supported a tight ass just begging to be spanked. She had on panties of some sort, a small pair so closely matched in color to her tanned skin they nearly disappeared.
It wasn’t just Tristan that stared. Annik watched Nessa with wide-eyes and a red-face, a blush that deepened when she noticed Tristan glance her way. She quickly turned and busied herself with sorting through what remained of her supplies.
Did Annik prefer women? Perhaps he’d imagined the glances during the voyage or given drunken meaning to innocent actions. It wasn’t rare amongst the Bolstered cadets for women to take pleasure with one another. The fact didn’t bother Tristan beyond mild regret at the idea it might mean Annik’s own athletic body would be forever beyond his reach.
“He took my copy of the contract!” Nessa huffed. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised given how he tossed aside his other Bound, but somehow I thought I was different.”
“Contract?” Tristan asked as he wandered over to her.
“From when we were bound together.” Nessa lifted her necklace like it was all the explanation he needed and seemed surprised by Tristan’s blank l
ook. “You two are bound, right?”
“I’m not sure what you mean by that,” Tristan replied looking over his shoulder at Annik. “I’m stuck with her for now, if that’s what you mean. We were sent here to explore and map out an unexplored land.” Tristan kept it vague knowing the Aeolian Empire really had an eye for untapped resources and unconquered peoples. That was one part of his training he wouldn’t mess up.
“This is hardly unexplored. We’re just a few weeks hike from Saeli. I should have maps somewhere!” Nessa bent over again to dig around, and Tristan took the opportunity to admire her shapely legs.
“Saeli?” he asked, eyes drinking in the tanned woman’s body. She was short and thin by Aeolian standards, but her hips still had gentle, irresistible curves. He especially liked the way she shifted her weight, swishing her ass from side to side as she searched. “A town?”
“A city. Just over the mountains at the eastern edge of the Albeder Sea. It’s not very big compared to some of the other City-States, but no one messes with us thanks to the Sparks.”
“Sparks?”
In answer, Nessa held one hand up, lightning dancing along her fingers and down her arm. Memory of the debilitating pain that wracked his body flooded Tristan. He could see why no one would mess with a city full of defenders like Nessa. She’d nearly taken him out, and that was after he’d ambushed her.
Tristan opened his mouth to ask more, but Annik stomped over and interrupted them.
“Well, he took the communication crystal but left just about everything else,” Annik vented. “Let’s go get your crystal. I think we have enough to report. I assume you left your pack somewhere safe?”