Uprooted - Chapter 1

Chapter 1

A determined sorcerer should not find himself troubled by the difficulties of this world.

The words of the Master of Civic Studies echoed in Zaent's skull. He sat brooding underneath a old oak which provided some shelter from the rain. Those fat drops that mustered enough weight and moisture to drip through the branches all seemed amazingly to miss him, and he sat in the midst of a dry patch on the ground.

Zaent glared at the busy peasants who cursed the cold autumn downpour as they went about their business. A few guards on patrol, leather collars tucked under the rim of their helmets, eyed him as they passed. None seemed interested enough to hassle him. He knew he was screwed if they took an interest in him. Zaent pulled up the loose black sleeve on his right arm, and examined the wound underneath the filthy bandage. His arm was red, swollen and sore. Pus and foulness leaked from it when he squeezed it with a look of studied concentration. He replaced the bandage and considered checking the similar wound on his side. It seemed pointless, as he knew it would be in the same state.

"Very well, Zaent, let's consider our options." He stretched his thin frame up against the trunk of the tree. "I might be able to manage a few decent workings, but I'd be completely exhausted, and with no energy to back it up. So, no robberies. I have no money. I have an arrow-wound through my arm and in my side. I'm in the city of...well, some damn stinking city, I'm sure I don't know anyone here. I haven't slept in two days. It's FREEZING and WET! How in the FOURTH CIRCLE OF THE ABYSS do normal people DEAL WITH THIS SHI-"

"Excuse me sir?"

Zaent stopped in the midst of waving his fist at the sky. He was standing in the middle of the street now, with a rainstorm pouring down around him. No rain was hitting him. Someone was tugging gently on the hood of his totally dry cloak. He slowly turned and looked at the pretty young woman who desired his attention. She had long dark hair, made limp and plastered to her face by the rain. The rain had stopped spattering off her head when she came close to him. People were standing a good distance away, but still watching him.

"What are all of YOU staring at?" he shook his fist at the watchers and released just a little power, enough to crackle around his fingers. They immediately went about their business, and the young woman in front of him startled back a step. She was pleasantly plump, and her low-cut peasant shirt exposed a pleasing amount of pale skin.

"I'm sorry to bother you sir...but are you a magician?" She stammered and stared at him wide-eyed.

Zaent brushed back his hair. It was long, black, and dry, if greasy. "I'd say that my very local lack of precipitation, combined with my intimidating display of power not ten seconds ago, would indicate to the logically minded that I know secrets not meant for mortal men." He eyed her, an ignorant peasant for certain.

She continued to stare at him, chewing on her lower lip. "Yes," he sighed.

She immediately bent forward and clutched his arm with both hands. "Please, kind sir, you must help me! My family-"

Zaent knocked her arm away and dropped snarling to his knees. He clutched his wounded arm and rain immediately started to splash onto his hair and robe. "Oh, sir, are you hurt?" The peasant girl started again to reach for him, and he waved her off.

"Don't touch me!" He sighed and tried to stagger to his feet. "Just, help me up a bit." She wrapped his left arm around her shoulder and helped lift him up. Zaent pulled aside his robe and lifted his shirt. The wound on his side had opened again, and was bleeding. The rain running down his skin became pink rivulets, sliding on and soaking into his trousers.

"You ARE hurt...come along, we have to go-"

"Bah! I am a magician, I don't need..." Zaent sighed. "Very well. Take me to your home. I am sure I can solve whatever problem you have that requires magical intervention."

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Zaent felt himself begin to wake up to the smell of bacon frying. He was warm, and lying on something soft. He felt clean. Further examination revealed a changed bandage, and the crackling of a fire. It seemed safe to open his eyes.

He found himself laying on a soft pallet, stretched out in front of a fire. His robes had been washed at some point, and were thrown over him. The chairs and table beside him told him he was in some family's dining room. He moved his hand off the pallet. Nice clean hardwood. Not a poor family. He could hear someone moving around in the next room, and a distant sizzle that might in some way match up to the tasty smells that had awoken him.

He pulled himself up using the table, and put on his robe. The rest of his clothes had been cleaned too...someone around here had bathed him, washed his clothes, and put them back on. There was some kind of poultice underneath the bandages. He definitely felt less feverish, and they didn't hurt as much. He settled down into a comfortable-looking chair. Things were definitely looking up. Zaent supposed his little display of power hadn't been a waste after all. "Hey, who's house am I in? Is that breakfast cooking?" A small shriek followed by a short clatter emanated from the kitchen.

The girl from before peeked through the doorway and fixed him with the same wide-eyed stare as the first time. "I'm making breakfast right now...I was going to let you sleep until I was done, I'm sorry I woke you! We're having bacon and eggs and I'm making my mother's special..."

Her dress looked really good on her when she leaned forward like that. Her hair was brushed now, and it spilled down her shoulders to frame a broad expanse of flesh above her neckline. Large firm breasts filled out her bodice, and her cleavage seemed to lead up to the delicate line of her throat...

"-so how many would you like?" She was still staring at him, twisting her hair around a finger and looking nervous and hopeful.

"Ummm, two, I think."

"Two? Two of-"

"Errr, yes. Two of all of it. Hurry up."

Whoever she was disappeared back into the kitchen. Zaent relaxed back into the chair, letting it's overstuffed green fabric cradle him. He was famished. He hoped at least one of the things he was getting was pretty sizeable. He definitely remembered bacon and eggs. That was a good sign.

"Sir, would you like some-"

"Yes."

"Well, we also have-"

"Too right, better have that too. Going to have to get my strength up if I'm to do any serious sorcery soon."

Within a few minutes she came out with a tray and put it in front of him. There were two eggs, two strips of bacon, two...well, some kind of cake or something, a cup of milk and a sliced up apple. Zaent immediately set to devouring it. He saved the odd crispy fried things for last, and they turned out to be potato pancakes of a sort, with minced meat and cheese inside. He was halfway through the second one when he noticed the girl had been sitting across from him staring at him the whole time. Zaent paused and put his fork down. He looked up and stared straight into her eyes. It didn't take much mental discipline to stare down a normal person, and this girl was pretty timid. She looked down after at most two seconds, and her cheeks turned pink as she blushed.

"So. I asked once and received no answer. Whose house am I in?"

"My father's."

"Well, that's excellent but it tells me nothing. Who is your father, what does he do, where is he, what is your trouble?"

"My father owns several local mills. He's not at home at the moment..."

Zaent put his tray down and leaned toward the girl. He felt better already. He folded his hands in his lap and grinned sardonically. "Continue, please."

"Well, my father is up at the castle. The Duke has him locked up in the dungeon, because the tax-collector says we're cheating him."

"So. You're father cheats on his taxes? What am I to do about this?"

"But we're NOT cheating!" the girl's upper lip started to quiver. "We've always been honest about paying our tenth of grain! But the tax-collector has been staring at me every time he comes by, and when he came by and my father wasn't around I was scared...he asked my father to let him marry me, and he said no, and now..." The girl hid her face in her hands and sobbed. "And my mom died years ago and I don't have any brothers or sisters and I'm all alone! And I don't know what I could possibly do, no one believes us and they won't let me see my father! I think they're going to hang him and take the mills..."

"Oh, for the sake of the angels quiet down! I see your problem, let me think."

So. Dishonest tax-person, cute young damsel in distress. Zaent thought to himself for a while. "Young lass, you have not yet told me your name."

"I'm Alyssa, sir. You wouldn't mind telling me what you are called, would you?"

"I am Zaent Aurum. Adept of Sorcery. So. You want your father freed from the hangman's hemp, the local tax-taker taken care of, and your family's virtue preserved and restored, correct?"

"Uh, yes sir, only-"

"And while I'm doing these things I get to stay here, room and board, and whoever took care of my injuries will continue to do so?"

"Yes, of course master, only-"

"Well then. Your deceived duke and his offensive official shall soon find their situations far from what they first thought. When is your father to be tried?"

"In a week's time, sir, but-

"And I presume that a probationary period between conviction and carrying out the sentence is normal?"

"Yes, another week usually, but please-"

"Well. We have a deal then. I will lend the full force of my arcane arts to your cause, dear Alyssa."

"But sir, you don't understand, I, I can't pay you. We're comfortable enough, we're better off than most of the farmers around here, but we don't have any money."

"I didn't expe-" Zaent paused. "Well. Obviously you couldn't. I knew that. Once we free your father I'm sure I can make some kind of arrangement with him."

Zaent spent the rest of the day relaxing. The rain had stopped, but it was still cloudy. It was wet and chilly outside the house, and he enjoyed the simple pleasure of sitting in an overstuffed chair in front of a fire. Alyssa had been clever enough to retrieve his backpack from under his tree, and he studied a leather-bound tome that had been wrapped in his spare robe. The advanced techniques were beyond him, but being kicked out of the university seemed no reason to stop studying the Arts.

Alyssa fed him hot soup for lunch and dinner. She seemed nervous around him, but managed to sit in the chair on the other side of the hearth and knit after dinner. With the sun down, he found the light too dim to read the spidery script in his tome, and he wrapped it back up and stored it in his leather satchel.

"Alyssa."

"Do you need something sir?"

"I'm going to need to go to sleep soon. I'm not fond of this pallet. Is there a bed in this place?"

"Well, it's just upstairs, I'll take you."

Alyssa took his arm and helped him up the stairs. His side hurt less than it did the day before, but he still had to appreciate the assistance. The upstairs was just two rooms, and he was obviously staying in hers, from the pink and such. She helped him into bed and pulled the blankets over him.

"Good night sir, just call if you need anything."

"Of course."

She disappeared back down the stairs. Zaent stared at the ceiling. He hadn't seen the other room, it was probably her father's. She was probably going to sleep downstairs on the pallet herself.

Zaent woke up to the cry of geese heading north. Foul birds, he thought. He slid out of the bed and threw open the shutter. Wait, ducks. Or maybe they are geese. Few people were in the streets, might as well find out. He focused on the loudly squawking creatures, they were flying pretty low. A moment's concentration revealed their auras to his eye. He squinted, judging range and mass. A moment to gather power, another to align the centers, a quick gesture with a flick of the wrist, and three of them squawked the last time. The birds fell to earth just a few hundred feet up the road, trailing smoke and charred feathers all the way down. He could faintly hear the thuds as they struck. He hadn't been sure he'd be able to cast it left-handed.

He stepped up on the windowsill and floated easily to the ground outside. Looking about to see that no one had been watching him, he jogged up the street and looked over his catch. One had the head blown neatly off the top of the neck. A weak flow of blood stained the puddle it had landed in. The second had the chest cavity burst, it seemed to have lost most of it's innards in the process. Another was being torn apart by a pair of mongrels. Zaent sighed and contented himself with the first, and started back toward the little house. Carrying it by the feet, he opened the front door and marched into the kitchen.

His boots clicked on the clean stone floor of the kitchen as he turned the corner and found Alyssa just getting out of a big tin tub. Her dressing gown was hung over a chair beside the tub, and she was reaching for a towel. Her hips flared out into wonderfully firm, round buttocks, and she spun around to see him. Her breasts weren't as big as he had first thought, he decided as she scrambled to cover herself, turn back around, and grab her towel. Just really firm and set high, her hair's long enough to cover her nipples when it's wet, pity that. The bustier in that dress of hers helps, too.

He calmly appraised her as she wrapped the towel around her, and then hid her cleavage with the dressing gown. Like her dress didn't show it anyway. "Excuse me sir, I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come down the stairs..."

"I didn't. No need to apologize. Just...umm, is this a duck or a goose? I thought that it would make a good supper, better than soup anyway." Zaent dropped it on the chopping block and started digging for an apple, while Alyssa fled blushing from the room. He munched on the sweet fruit and yelled up the stairs after her, "Hey, is it a duck or a goose? I can't tell!"

He sighed and settled back down into a chair. Zaent found himself unable to concentrate on his book. That Alyssa. Well, she was probably sixteen or seventeen. She was pleasantly curved, and running his hands through that hair would feel so nice. Well, she seemed pretty clean. Screw his professors instructions. He'd been kicked out of the University, so that pretty much absolved him of his oaths, right? "Fuck celibacy," he muttered.

There was a mirror over the mantelpiece. He examined himself. His face was bony, with dark, wide-spaced eyes. He needed to shave, and he set about that immediately. Stripping off his clothes, and examining himself, he found he had lost his University student's paunch during his travels. He was lean and rather muscular. A better diet and less back-breaking labor had left him much more attractive than the average peasant. He wasn't a prince, but then, who was? Inbred bastards anyway. He threw his clothes aside and dumped some of the tub-water out the back door, then refilled it with fresh hot water from the stovetop.

He settled in and found he could sit upright without soaking the bandage on his side with water. It felt much better today. It hadn't been deep in the first place, just infected with filthy orc-arrows. The same arrow had passed clean through the meat of his forearm, but no permanent damaged had been caused.

He shouted loudly, "Alyssa! Come back down here please!"

He was rewarded immediately with the sound of her feet coming down the stairs. She appeared in the kitchen barefoot, and in her dressing gown. Even her feet are cute, how does that happen?

"What do you need, sir?" Her hair was still wet, and it was causing a wonderful semi-transparency to soak down the front of her cotton dressing gown.

"You are the one who took care of me while I was recovered from my recent injuries?"

"Yes, sir, you were asleep for almost a day, and nothing could wake you."

"I had thought so. I am still in plenty of pain, and it would please me if you could be bothered to bathe my body a second time."

Alyssa blushed, and then sort of bowed, so that her hair covered her face. "O-of course, sir." She found a washrag beside the tub, and started to apply soap and water to his back. Zaent groaned. The girl seemed to have some experience giving backrubs, and she was combining the two experiences into one. He let the tension drain out of his body as she spread the lather over his shoulders and worked it into his skin. She rinsed him clean, and then washed his face and neck. He closed his eyes, and found he enjoyed the sensation of her soft fingers caressing his cheeks, his brow, and his lips. She rinsed him off with more warm water, and moved down to his chest. He purred as she cleaned him off, and opened his eyes lazily.

He was staring right down the front of her dressing gown, which was unbuttoned. She seemed to be concentrating totally on getting him clean, and didn't notice that her patient was enjoying the view. She leaned forward to wash his side, and her breasts rested on his forearm. The water from her hair hadn't soaked her dressing gown far enough down to let her nipples be revealed through the fabric, but he was pretty sure he could feel one rubbing against him as she scrubbed.

She chose this time to remove his bandages. He suppressed a grimace as she quickly cleaned him up and reapplied a mixture from a pot on the back of the stove. She then bandaged him again with clean white fabric. The wounds weren't healed, of course, but the infection seemed almost gone and they were definitely doing better.

He leaned back and relaxed again as she took the time and care to wash his arms and hands, and then moved down to his legs. He could sense himself becoming hard as she washed his right thigh. The soap suds hid it for the moment. Zaent suddenly splashed water on her with his left hand, soaking the front of her dressing gown.

She looked at him with wide eyes and an open mouth.

He stuck his tongue out at her and waggled his eyebrows.

Finally, Alyssa managed to close her mouth. She started to giggle. Zaent smiled back at her, and she covered her mouth, laughing so hard she fell back on her butt. He admired her now largely revealed breasts through the thin white cotton of her gown.

"You know sweetie, you shouldn't be so nervous around me just because I'm a magician. I mean, we're going to be stuck in this house for quite some time together, before I have the energy to do...well, the stuff I'm going to do for you. Now come on, finish cleaning me up. I'm pruning as you ponder."

Alyssa started back down at his feet, and slowly scrubbed his legs. She worked her way up his thighs, and proceeded to clean his hips and the area just below his belly button. He shifted his hips back so that he wouldn't show above the surface of the water. He grunted, frustrated, and finally took her hand. She glanced up him, and he stared deep into her liquid brown eyes, locking their gazes.

He slowly moved her hand further down, and wrapped her limp fingers around his cock. Her fingers were a little wrinkled from the water, and he could feel exquisite pleasure from each little groove as he squeezed her fist around him.

Alyssa gasped and averted her eyes downward. A blush was creeping up her cheeks. Zaent let go of her hand and cupped her jaw, raising her head to look at him. He leaned forward and kissed her. Her lips were pleasantly cool and moist. She didn't resist as he pulled her closer and worked his tongue into her mouth. He lazily explored her the warm softness of her mouth, and reached up to cradle her breasts.

They were just as fascinating to touch as to look at. She moaned a bit, but didn't resist as he reached inside her dressing gown and cupped one in his hand. They were firm and tipped with large nipples. He stroked her and squeezed her, feeling the nipples harden under his touch. He could feel her breathing quicken, as warm air blew across his cheek. Her grip on him tightened, and he started to shift his hips back and forth. He desperately needed to feel her hand moving back and forth on his shaft, and the soapy water made her fingers slip delightfully over his head.

He reached down and grasped the hem of her dressing gown, and pulled it up, past her hips and over her head. He had to pull back to get it over her arms, break the kiss and pull her hand from his cock. He was left with a faint buzzing pleasure as he stood up and pulled her to him. The sensation of her whole body rubbing against him, skin slippery, made him sigh with pleasure.

She reached down and took a firmer grip on him this time. Her hand slid slowly up and down him, in time with her deep breaths. He kissed the side of her neck, then opened his mouth wider and sucked on it, sealing his lips around one place. He bit her gently, and licked her, moving up to her ear, and then down to her breast. His mouth traveled from one nipple to the other. Back and forth he sucked one into his mouth, rubbing the other between thumb and forefinger, squeezing her between his lips and tongue. He used his whole hand knead her breasts, she sighed and gave him a firm squeeze. They both moaned in pleasure. He gently pushed her back a few steps until she was leaning against a wall, stroking his cock and arching her back to force her breasts more firmly against him.

Zaent's fingers traveled down her body and reached between her legs. He lightly explored her. His questing finger traveled through soft pubic hair, and came to rest lightly against something very wet. He slickened his fingers with her juices as he mapped out her opening, and then spread her inner lips. She threw back her head and let out a high-pitched gasp as he found her clit and made tight little circles around it.

Her hand was tightened into more of a fist by now, and was travelling more rapidly up and down his cock, her thumb just brushing over his sensitive, swollen head. It was taking all of the mental discipline from years of magical training to keep from shooting his cum all over her breasts and belly. He didn't want her to think him a virgin. She was obviously inexperienced, she didn't move or encourage him much, just accepting what he did to her. It wouldn't do, however, to let her know that he himself was going on pure instinct and rumors heard between classes.

He explored deeper within with his fingers. He wanted so badly to slide his cock into the hot, wet place he had found, but he hadn't found her opening yet. At last his first finger slipped deep inside her, all the way to the third knuckle. Her pussy had seemed to suck him in once he found the right place to push.

She was trying to shift her hips up and down, letting out desperate squeals as he slid his fingers in and out of her. Her entrance was tight, and she seemed to be rhythmically contracting around him. He sucked a little bit on her nipples as a flush spread up over her breasts. Suddenly she stopped stroking him and just squeezed. Her pussy tensed up around him, and so did all the muscles in her torso. Her back arched as she gasped in his ear, and he helped hold her up as her knees went week. Alyssa cried out over and over again, squeezing her thighs around his hand, "Please, don't stop, don't stop, don't stop doing that, mmmm..."

She seemed to relax after a few seconds, and he managed to draw his hand out. He braced her shoulders against the wall, and shifted his hips forward, trying to line up his rock-hard cock with her now relaxed opening.

"Sir, please, don't...." He looked up at her sharply. "I, I have to be a virgin when I marry. It would break my father's heart otherwise." She fell to her knees in front of him.

Zaent's cock ached for release. "Well, I can hardly concentrate on much of anything the way I am. I have done my best to pleasure YOU, I might point out."

She looked up at him, eyes tearing up, then nodded her head. She slowly reached forward and grasped him. Her hands stroked up and down his shaft, still slick from soap and water. Zaent's throat let out rumbling sounds of pleasure. This wasn't such a bad way to get off...it was definitely better than doing it himself, and his arm was pretty sore. Suddenly Alyssa leaned forward and a sensation of indescribable pleasure engulfed the head of his cock. He looked down and saw her lips wrapped around him. She started to slowly work her way down. He could feel her wet lips taking more and more of him into her hot, wet mouth.

She looked up into his eyes, and started to flick her tongue back and forth over the underside of his shaft. He stared down into her eyes, watched the beautiful naked girl kneel at his feet and slowly suck his cock in between her soft, full lips. She reached up and gently cupped his balls in one hand, and started to stroke his shaft with the other.

He could see just a patch of pubic hair between her thighs, and her hard nipples peeking up at him from below her arms. She was a picture of innocent beauty, almost. Her head bobbed back and forth in opposite rhythm to her hand, so that her lips met her forefinger, and then they swept away from each other. He reached down and grabbed her shoulders as his legs started to get weak.

He was losing his concentration, as the sensations from her tongue licking him, his cock sliding in past her lips, and her hand stroking his hardness combined. He couldn't feel anything but his cock anymore, the whole world seemed to fade out. He suddenly saw her aura, clearly as day, and the glow around her lips, fluctuating as his own cock penetrated into her and slid back out, was somehow incredibly erotic.

He shut his eyes, and felt himself start to go. He heard her making loud swallowing noises, and he could feel each spurt of cum flee his cock. He was incredibly sensitive at this moment, and it seemed he could feel each little bump and ridge on her tongue as she pleasured him all through the end of his orgasm.

At last it was over, and she kept swirling her tongue over and under his cock until he softened and slipped out between her lips. He picked her up and held her against him, caressing the smooth skin of her back, and resting one hand under the curve of her ass. She wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly. Then he led her up the stairs and they laid down in her bed together, and dozed into a light morning nap.

Continued in Chapter 2

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