Chapter 21 - Rude Awakening
Flying high in the black of night with Maelle cradled in his arms, Vincent squinted against the rushing wind, searching the dark woods below.
’Hmm?’
Spotting a small wooden shack nestled deep within the trees, he calculated the distance from where he is to the bandit’s camp.
’I’ve flown far enough for now. Those guys won’t ever find us this far out.’
Dropping softly onto the dirt path surrounding the shack, Vincent took a quick look around. The structure sat completely isolated in the middle of dense forest, with only a faint, overgrown trail leading toward it. Additionally, no candlelight flickered behind the grime-covered windows.
’Are the owners asleep? If so, sorry for the late-night disturbance then.’
He lifted his boot and gave the wooden door a firm kick to knock.
Bang–
The door slammed inward, swinging wide open on squeaking hinges. It was unlocked.
"Oops. sorry..." Vincent whispered into the darkness, wincing at the noise.
He peered inside, "Is anyone home? I know this is super suspicious of me to ask, but do you guys have a spare room? I have someone with me who’s in need of care."
Wind howled softly through the trees, rusting the leaves outside. No voice answered inside.
"Hellooooo?" he called out again.
After waiting for a full minute, Vincent excused himself and stepped over the threshold. The floorboards creaked loudly under his boots with every step.
He did a quick sweep of the floor. The small kitchen and living area were abandoned. Layers of dust covered the wooden furniture, but in the center of the living room sat a small, brick fireplace and a couch.
"Perfect."
Flaring his wings, he gave two powerful flaps, creating a gust of wind that blew the dust clean off the sofa. He carefully laid Maelle down on her back and pulled his white jacket up to cover her.
Walking over to a small pile of dry firewood stacked beside the hearth, he tossed a few logs into the grate. He focused a sliver of divine power into his hand and snapped his fingers.
FWOOSH!
A warm, crackling fire instantly ignited, filling the drafty room with soothing heat and golden light.
"Right. Now, let’s make sure we’re actually alone."
Checking the small kitchen nook, he only found empty cupboards coated in cobwebs. No food, no supplies. Moving down the short hallway, he checked the next door – a tiny room containing a simple wooden toilet pot. The final room was the only bedroom, containing a single bed with a worn-out mattress.
’Guess this place was either deserted or is used as an emergency hideout, perhaps? For who, though? Hm. I pray I don’t find out.’
Returning to the living room, he knelt beside the sofa and placed his palm over Maelle’s chest once more, healing her.
He watched as the faint lingering whip marks, the deep bruises, and the torn, bloody flesh around her wrist fully knitted back together, leaving her skin clear.
Once he was sure she was stable, he let out an exhausted sigh. He released his divine form – his white wings vanishing back into his soul, and his hair shifting back from ethereal blue to his natural, earthy brown.
Sinking down onto the floorboards in front of the warm fireplace, Vincent rested his back against the base of the couch. He stared into the flickering orange flames, watching the sparks rise, until his eyelids grew heavy, and he drifted into a deep sleep.
....
Tweet Tweet Tweet
Hours later, warm morning sunlight filtered through the dirty glass windows, accompanied by the gentle tweeting of forest birds.
Maelle’s long eyelashes fluttered open as she slowly stirred from her sleep.
Her head throbbed, but to her shock, the excruciating, tearing pain in her limbs was completely gone. She looked up at a rotting wooden ceiling.
’An unfamiliar place...?’
Turning her head to the side, she spotted a burnt-out fireplace.
Then, her body registered an unexpected, heavy warmth pressing firmly against her.
She looked down and froze.
Lying directly on top of her bare hips was a brown-haired young man. Not only was he stark naked, but she too was completely stripped of her clothes, with his face pressed against her bare breasts.
Her violet eyes dilated in horror.
Right at that exact second, the sleeping boy shifted his head and mumbled, "Mmm... Mr. Marshmallow... always finding new friends lately..."
Then, acting on an unconscious habit, he latched his mouth onto her pink nipple and began to suck.
Maelle didn’t even have the breath to scream.
Pure, instinctual panic flooded her veins. She threw her hands forward, thrusting her palms against his chest with every ounce of strength she possessed and violently shoved him off her.
THWACK!
Vincent crashed hard onto the wooden floorboards.
"H-HUH?! Mama–?!"
SLAP!
"OW!"
Before his brain could make sense of his surroundings, a sting exploded across his cheek. Maelle scrambled off the couch, pressing her arm against her chest to hide her body.
SLAP!
She struck him again on the other cheek, then shoved him away hard.
"Ow! H-Hey! What the hell are you doing?!"
Wild-eyed and trembling violently, Maelle looked around the room for anything she could use to defend herself. Spotting a rickety wooden chair nearby, she grabbed it and smashed it furiously against the floor, breaking off one of the jagged wooden legs.
Her chest heaved as she leveled the sharp wooden stake at him. Tears of absolute terror and outrage spilled down her flushed cheeks as she looked at him with suppressed fear.
"Why are you pointing that at me?!" Vincent held hands up in surrender. "Aren’t we on the same side?!"
"The same side?! What... what did you do to me?!"
"What do you mean, ’what’?! I saved your life, didn’t I?!"
"Then why were you lying on top of me naked?! You... you defiled me while I was unconscious!"
"WHAT?! No, I didn’t!"
"Then why were you on top of me?!"
"I-I don’t know! I swear to God, I slept on the floor last night after I healed you! My body just must’ve just... I don’t know what happened!"
"Healed me...?" Maelle paused, her tear-filled eyes darting down to look at her body.
She took a quick glance down. To her utter astonishment, there wasn’t a single scratch left on her skin.
She lowered the wooden stake slightly as her mind raced. "How did you... where are we? What happened to the bandits?"
"Look, I understand that you have a million questions right now, but believe me, so do I, alright? So let’s please put down the stick, get changed, and we can figure everything out from there."
Maelle didn’t lower the stake yet. She stared at him with cold skepticism.
Vincent looked her dead in the eye, dropping his defensive posture.
"Listen... Maelle, right? I’m on your side. You summoned me, didn’t you? I’m what you would call your familiar. Which means I cannot go against you, since you being in danger puts my own life at risk too. So please... trust me."
Maelle studied his facial features closely – his sharp jawline, his solid build, the mysterious connection she felt in her soul that somewhat gravitated toward him.
"Come to think of it... you do look like that person I summoned in the cathedral during the ritual..."
"That’s because I am," he replied softly.
Watching him carefully for another long moment, Maelle finally lowered the broken chair leg, letting it drop to the floorboards with a quiet clatter.
Vincent let out a massive breath of relief. "Thank goodness. My name is Vincent, by the way. Vincent Winters."
"Vincent..."
"Yeah."
"Well then, Vincent," Maelle said, her voice regaining a regal authority despite her current state. "Go outside while I get changed."
"Wait, but I’m still naked–"
ZAP!
Before he could finish his sentence, an irresistible force gripped his muscles. His legs locked straight, turned around on their own, and began marching briskly toward the front door.
"Whoa! Hey! Oh, c’mon!" Vincent yelled at his rogue legs as his body automatically walked out into the chilly morning air, slamming the door slamming shut behind him.
Once alone, adrenaline finally began to drain from her system, giving her a chance to properly inspect herself.
Her violet eyes widened in quiet awe.
Slowly, Maelle lifted her slender hands, letting her fingertips glide over her smooth skin. She traced the full curve of her waist, her hands sliding gently up over her ribcage to press against the soft, supple swell of her generous breasts.
There wasn’t a single trace of the deep, angry whip marks that had been carved into her flesh just hours before. The ugly black-and-blue bruises that had covered her stomach were also completely gone.
Turning slightly to look over her shoulder, she reached down to feel the full curve of her hips and rear, tracing all the way down the back of her thighs. The agonizing burns from the bandits’ metal rods had vanished without leaving a single scar.
She lifted her right wrist to her face, staring at the delicate skin – the very flesh she had violently torn off against the iron cuffs was completely restored, soft beneath her touch.
"... What did you do to me, Vincent?"
From out on the chilly porch, a miserable yell cut through her thoughts.
"Hey! Maelle! Can you please hurry up in there?! I’m standing out here butt-naked in the freezing morning breeze! My toes are going to run away!"
Satisfied with her inspection, Maelle turned her attention to her discarded clothes scattered across the floorboards.
She retrieved her torn, crimson bodysuit, stepping carefully into it and pulling the snug fabric up over her legs, hips, and stomach. She pulled on her thigh-high black leather boots, zipping them up securely over her knees.
Looking at her black noble doublet, she found it shredded beyond repair. With a dismissive hum, she tossed the ruined garment into the fireplace ash.
She instead picked up Vincent’s white denim jacket. Slipping her arms into the oversized sleeves, she wrapped the fabric around her body and buttoned it up. It hung loosely past her hips.
Adjusting her long white hair over her shoulders, she straightened her posture and resumed her natural regal demeanor.
"You may come back inside now, Vincent."