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Shattered	By : Koori Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft Views: 8001 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter Five – Nathaniel Conway
Five Years Ago …
“Those of you who have the will to save this land follow me! The rest of you ... get out of my sight!”
Nathaniel shook his head as the words of their Prince echoed within him. This couldn’t be happening! This wasn’t how it was supposed to be! He glanced over to his side where Foster rode on the back of Knight, his armor gleaming in the sunlight. They were racing through the Forest of Darrowmere, away from the death, flames and most likely towards even worse.
It had been a little over two years ago now that they had left their father’s farm and joined the ranks of Knights of the Silver Hand. Well, he had never truly been accepted, he was never given the chance to bend the Light in the way his brother had been trained to do. They tolerated him because they wanted Foster, and allowed him to stay for his deadly accuracy with a bow. As the years passed his brother continued to become an even better defender. There had been no foe that could topple him, until now. This one did not have a face; it was invisible and struck without remorse: The Plague.
“Brother, what do we do?” He shouted as they raced away from Stratholme and the death his Prince was leaving in his wake.
“The Prince disbanded the Order,” Foster replied, “we save our family and get the hell away!”
“What if …?” he couldn’t voice his fear aloud, the fires from Andorhal still fresh in his mind. They had destroyed the Andorhal granaries two days ago, but the plague-infested grain had already been shipped to surrounding towns.   The people within Andorhal had started to turn right before their eyes, coming out of their homes … walking corpses intent on destroying the living. They hadn’t the means to save anyone; they could only flee and leave those still clinging to life to be damned. Except Nathaniel and Foster had disobeyed Lord Uther’s command and had tried to help their childhood friend, Marlene Redpath who lived outside Andorhal. They had arrived too late.
“Our family is self-reliant,” Foster said, “we only eat food from our own lands. If we’re quick we might still save them. Had I know this is where things were headed, I would have deserted after Andorhal!”
They were approaching Corin’s Crossing; Foster aimed his horse to go around. “We have to get Sis!” Nathaniel shouted continuing down the road.   “And the others, what about the others,” he whispered. Would they believe them; what they saw? Dead people standing back up, their minds gone… this was insane!
The streets were deathly quiet when they rode through. Nathaniel noticed Foster take his shield off his back. They both pulled up the bandanas they wore around their neck to cover their nose and mouths. The school house was their first stop, on the door was a sign “Closed Due To Illness.”
Nathaniel turned Rook around and rode her toward the Inn; it was where Janice was staying last they knew. He knocked on the door, after a long moment he heard the shuffling of feet. Foster moved around, raising his shield in front of him. There was some relief when the door opened to the tired face of Donald O’Connell.
“Oh … Conway boys,” he said weakly. “Ellen will be upset she missed you, but she hasn’t felt good the past couple days. The whole damn town seems to have come down with a bad case of the flu or something …”
“I’m sorry to bother you,” Foster said, his voice choked with emotions. “Is our sister here?”
“Oh, Janice? No, without children to teach she went back to the farm to wait it out,” he said.
“Was she sick when she left?” Nathaniel asked.
“I don’t think so,” Donald rubbed his forehead. “You’ll have to excuse me, I’m not feeling very well myself.”
“I’m a paladin,” Foster said softly, “let me help you back to your room, I can help.”
“Brother!” Nathaniel cried out alarmed.
Foster squeezed his shoulder. “It will be okay, just stay here, and be on your guard.”
“On your guard …” Donald mumbled as Foster led him back into the house, “you boys have been in the military too long.”
“Foster, please,” Nathaniel whispered, “don’t do this.”
“I can’t save them, but I can save their souls,” his brother said softly.
“And what of your soul?” Nathaniel asked.
Nathaniel’s heart broke as his brother closed the door behind him. He knew there was no hope for the O’Connells. Unlike the Prince who was killing both the healthy and the damned, his brother was only making sure their friends stayed in the Light. Closing his eyes he listened, except for the occasional squeak from a loose door the town was deathly quiet. He eyed the smith, he should check on the Madisons they were almost like family.
Taking the bow from his back he notched an arrow and walked toward the blacksmiths. As he approached he heard the sound of shuffling footsteps. “Mr. Madison is that you?” Nathaniel called out.
A hunched form shambled out of the door, the way it walked was all wrong and Nathaniel’s blood ran cold. He released the arrow catching what had once been Kyle Madison in the shoulder; the zombie looked at the arrow for a moment before getting a wicked look on its face. “Brains ….” It murmured as it lurched forward.
Nathaniel let a second arrow go, this one landed right between the eyes and the zombie paused, its eyes crossing. Turning he ran toward the horses, his brother was just coming out of the inn and he shouted. Foster looked over his way alarmed and raising his gauntlet covered hand he chanted, a bright light burst forth from his palm and Nathaniel could feel the heat of the attack on his cheek as it blasted what had been Kyle.
Without speaking the brothers swung up on their horses and raced toward home, leaving the damned town behind. “Brother …” Nathaniel didn’t know what to say.
“It’s going to be okay,” Foster lied, “promise, Baby Brother, just stay focused.”
They came to Wendy’s and York’s homestead next; Nathaniel was comforted in the smoke rising from the chimney. “Sis!” he shouted as he raced up. The door opened and Lucy ran out, Nathaniel was surprised how big she had gotten. She was a young teenager now and beside her was his namesake, Nate. “Sis!” he shouted again, as the children ran over screaming happily. He gathered them up in his arms, relived they looked well.
A young woman he did not know came out the doorway. “What’s with all the shouting?” she said with a scowl, “you’ll wake her.”
“Too late for that, Hazel,” Wendy said as she appeared; Nathaniel was shocked to see she was very pregnant. “By the Light, what bring you boys home? We weren’t expecting to see you for a few more months.”
“Sis,” Foster said, “I need you to trust me … something very terrible is happening in our lands. First off, have any of you eaten any grain that might have come from Andorhal or food made from it?”
To their relief she shook her head. “No, Brother, we sell our grain to them but use our own to eat … you’re scaring me …” she rubbed her belly.
“So everyone feels okay?” Nathaniel asked, “Corin’s spoke of a flu …”
“Yeah, Pa and Kyle came down with it,” the woman Nathaniel now knew was Hazel Madison. “Ma had her hands full so sent me down here to watch over preggy.”
“It has been a week since we’ve been to Corin’s,” Wendy said, “your father came by the other day to tell us the school had been closed, much to Lucy’s delight and my chagrin.”
“Sis,” Foster said, “we need to leave.”
“So go,” she said with a smile, “our family will be excited to see you.”
“No,” Foster said, “we need to leave these lands! You, the children, your husband … if you stay you will die or even worse … and we have very little time.”
“You’re scaring the children,” Wendy said with a frown, “this isn’t funny.”
“It’s not a joke,” Nathaniel said pleading, “please, Sis, you need to go with us now or you’ll die … something awful has been released in the Forest of Darrowmere it’s taking the living and turning them … into something that is no longer human. Where is York?”
The women stared at them stunned looks on their faces. “In the fields,” Wendy finally said. She reached up and rang a large bell hung up over her door. “That will call him in,” she said. “Children, I need you to go pack a small bag, looks like we’re going on a trip with your Uncles, move quickly.”
“I should go back to town …” Hazel started.
“No!” Nathaniel shouted, “I’m sorry … it’s a miracle you are clean. That wasn’t the flu … I’m sorry we checked on your family before we came here … they … I’m sorry …”
Hazel looked stricken and Wendy quickly embraced her.
“I’ll stay here,” Foster said, “go hurry to the homestead, if … things look bad come back here otherwise we’ll meet you there as soon as possible.”
Nathaniel nodded and raced off on the back of Rook. A short time later he was racing up to the house, he let out the whistle to call his family to him as he slid off the saddle and met his mother and Rosemary on the porch.
“Do be quiet,” Ma chided, “Janice is trying to sleep …”
“Sleep?” Nathaniel said stricken, “is she sick?”
“Just a little touch of the flu,” Ma said, “she’ll be right as rain in a few days, something going around town.” She paused and studied him. “What’s wrong, Nathaniel?”
“Is anyone else sick?” he asked, unable to stop himself he stepped away and threw up. “Focus,” he whispered to himself.
“Nah,” his Ma said, “we’re hardy bunch of folks. Son, are you okay?”
Over her shoulder he saw Pa, Sara and Grant returning from the fields. His relief at seeing his Pa was almost overwhelming. “Pa” he shouted. The frantic cry in his voice sped up the arrival of the others.
“Is your brother okay?” Ma asked.
"Yes,” Nathaniel said. “I don’t know how I’m going to explain this …”
“Take a deep breath,” his pa said, as he reached out and embraced him for a long moment. “Then just say what needs to be said.”
He took the suggested breath and started talking. He told them of Andorhal and what was happening at Stratholme. Then went on to explain what they had seen at Corin’s, as he spoke he saw their faces share the same horror his own did.
“So there is no hope once the sickness set in.”
Alarmed, Nathaniel looked over to find Janice standing in the doorway. “Sis!”
She held up a hand as the others moved toward her. “You heard as well as I did,” she said. “It’s the Conway blood that has kept me strong this long. There is still hope for you; you must leave this cursed land.   As for me, my soul will remain in Darrowmere.”

Nathaniel awoke from a dream to find himself in hell. Like when he was a child and his mother would drug his nightcap so he would sleep while she shortened his ears he woke nauseated. His head spun as he sat up slowly. The fire from last night had died down to a few burning coals, barely adding any warmth.   As he sat up fully he flinched when placing his ass down, it hurt badly and he shifted to kneeling. Pulling the too small blanket over his shoulders he glanced around the room. His heart sunk to find Vance studying him from the chair he had been sitting in last night. The scent of musk was overwhelming and he shuddered.
“Morning, Master,” he said faintly.
“Sleep well, my pet?” Vance asked in his velvet voice.
“Yes, Master,” Nathaniel answered truthfully. “Though, I don’t feel very good at the moment. Don’t think the herbs you added to my tea last night agree with me, though I do appreciate their effect, thank you, Master.”
Vance nodded, standing he moved over to a nearby cabinet and looked through it, eventually taking out a dark blue glass bottle. After picking up a spoon he returned to the kneeling elf. Nathaniel’s heart began to race as he watched the man towering over him fill the spoon with syrupy liquid that poured out of the bottle. An unpleasant scent reached him as Vance ordered his mouth to open. There was no alternative so lips parted and the bitter medicine poured down his throat, at least he hoped it was medication. Gagging as he swallowed he shuddered and whispered a thank you.   That lesson he had learned well last night, no matter what was done to him for good or for bad, Vance required gratitude.
Boney fingers brushed through his hair, a sign he had performed properly. Closing his eyes Nathaniel tried to focus on calming his nervous stomach and aching head. A few minutes passed in silence, a quick glance at his keeper showed an expression lost in thought and not one of rage for a misstep. The fingers on his head paused. “Do you need to use the chamber pot, pet?”
Nathaniel’s breath caught, as he tried to think of the correct answer, he quickly came to the conclusion there probably wasn’t one so answered truthfully, “yes, Master.”
“You may use the one behind the screen there,” Vance said as he gestured to a curtained off corner near the door. Standing unsteadily Nathaniel walked over to the curtain, he could feel the eyes of the other follow him. He found a simple lavatory within, the aforementioned toilet and a small basin. As his fingers brushed against the lacy under clothing he wore he paused, by the Light what had he done? Was this truthfully better than the cell he’d been locked in for the past weeks?
“Slut!”
Nathaniel jerked around at Vance’s shout to find the man standing behind him. He went to pull the underwear down but his wrist was harshly grabbed and he was dragged out. “Master please, I didn’t use it…”
“Next time maybe you’ll piss a little faster,” Vance growled.
Nathaniel sobbed as he was dragged over to the door of the room in nothing but the silk underwear; the threat of being paraded around dressed as such foremost on his mind. His wrist was released as the door was jerked open. Vance gestured down at the tray resting on the ground.
“Your first task of the day will be to collect my breakfast tray every morning and bring it to the fire,” Vance ordered.
Nathaniel bent down and picked up the tray and carried it to the table in front of the chair Vance had sat in last time. “Steep my tea,” the man ordered. “While it stands, relight the fire and then kneel at my side.”
“Yes, Master,” Nathaniel said as he poured the steaming water from the teapot on the tray into a cup. His hand shook splashing the water slightly. “Sorry, Master,” he whispered as he set the kettle down and went to work on the fire.   Soon he had a welcomed blaze crackling so he moved to kneel beside Vance,
His stomach growled at the savory scents wafting from the Deathspeaker’s plate. Eventually the anticipated command to “Open” was given and his lips parted. A small piece of sausage was placed in his mouth. It tasted like steak to the starving elf as he closed his lips around the succulent morsel.   A scream of rage came from Vance and Nathaniel cowered as the tray went flying.
“Spit it out!” the man shouted.
Nathaniel looked up, confused. The man had given him the bite hadn’t he? “Spit it out, or I swear I’ll break your fucking jaw!” Nathaniel spit the slightly chewed piece of meat into Vance’s hand. The bite was tossed into the fire. “Who fucking told you, you could swallow?”
Last night’s meal came back and Nathaniel’s blood chilled as his error became obvious. “I’m sorry, Master,” Nathaniel cried as Vance stormed over to his dresser. The elf knew what rested there. “Please, Master, I forgot … please … I’m sorry.”
“Not as sorry as you will be,” Vance said as he stalked over, the crop in hand. “Time for another lesson, you ungrateful slut. I should have left you to your brother! Present that ass to me, now!” Nathaniel’s whole body trembled as he turned away from the man, still kneeling. A strong hand grabbed the back of his head and forced it down to the ground. “Head down, ass up … legs apart let what little you have dangle freely. If I tell you to present this is what I want to see.”
The first fall of the crop cut across his upper thigh, the second lash struck his bruised ass and cuts from yesterday’s beatings. Hot white pain exploded and Nathaniel screamed. There was another blow and, to his horror, he felt his bladder release. Gripping his crotch he ignored Vance’s shout and hurried over to the shower. Once inside he quickly dropped back down in the desired position. The smell of urine was overpowering but there little he could do but brace for the beating to come.
Instead he heard a dark laugh, which was very disconcerting.   “Wise move, slut, if you had pissed on my carpet you would be licking it clean.” The crop fell again and again, after what felt like dozens of blows it stopped and he sensed Vance walk away. There was the sound of dishes being collected.
“Stand and face the corner,” Vance ordered, “when I order it rinse with the right nozzle. Let’s hope you haven’t forgotten this lesson, I do not want to spend my mornings retraining your stupid self.”
“Master,” Nathaniel said, “my … underwear.”
“Of course,” Vance said approaching, “that one is covered in your fear isn’t, my slut?   I would suggest using the chamber pot next time when I give you permission.” Nathaniel startled at the feeling of a knife blade’s back edge working its way down his spine. “I’d be really still now, slut,” Vance said as the blade slipped under the cotton waistband. There was a slight jerk and the cloth fell free, pooling around his ankles. “Rinse!”
Nathaniel quickly rinsed his hair. Though tousled from sleep his locks still felt a thousand times better than they had the day before. After wetting down the rest of him, he turned the chilly water off and waited. The minutes crawled by and then the order to wash was given. Starting with his hair he used the bar of soap. Once he finished he picked up the slender soap resting on the tray and with a sigh leaned forward and slowly worked it inside him from behind. “One, two, three, four,” he counted quickly.
“Slow down, slut,” Vance growled his voice raw with emotion. “Start over, slowly thrust … get that dirty hole clean.”
“One … two …” Nathaniel slowed the count; he just wanted the intrusion out. Once he reached ten he set the soap back on the shelf and waited. Eventually the rinse command was given.
“Let’s see how you did today, slut,” Vance said, “present.”
Dropping to the shower floor Nathaniel lowered his head and raised his ass. He expected the gloved finger but this time it slammed into him and he cried out. “What’s wrong, slut?” Vance growled, “you queers like your ass played with, don’t you?”
“No, Master,” Nathaniel said.
“Did you just tell me no?” Vance’s voice was like daggers and Nathaniel knew it was too late to correct.
The pressure left as Vance stalked off. Nathaniel knew he was retrieving the crop and bit the back of his hand to stop from screaming when it struck. There was the sound of a drawer opening and then Vance moved back over to the shower. There wasn’t the immediate pain of the crop instead something hard and cold pressed against the violated opening. There was no warning as something unforgiving was shoved inside and he yelled.
“Not even a tight fit,” Vance said with malice, “knew you were a slut. We’ll keep that in you until …”
“Please,” Nathaniel begged, “Please take it out! I’ll be good, Master! I swear I’ll be good!”
“Oh slut,” Vance growled, “You just don’t know when to shut the fuck up.”
To Nathaniel’s surprise the invasion was removed and there was the sound of metal on glass as it was tossed into a nearby sink. To his horror something larger pressed against him and slowly inside. “That’s right slut,” Vance growled. “Take it all … this one is a tight fit, look at your greedy little ass taking it in.”
It felt as if it was spearing him in the gut and Nathaniel wailed.
“Go ahead, slut,” Vance said, “tell me again what I should or shouldn’t do to you … I have a bigger toy sitting right there ready to split you open.”
Soon the continued pressure stopped just leaving him feel full to the core. Vance ran a damp finger up and down his ass crack. Whatever the toy was, it was now completely inside him. “I knew you were a whore,” the man said, as his hand dipped lower and cupped Nathaniel’s flaccid manhood. There was a sharp intake of breath as the hand pulled away. “Kneel,” Vance ordered. “Don’t let it slip out or we’ll go up another size.”
Nathaniel sat up, reaching behind him as he did. The object inside him fell like a broomstick.
“Don’t fucking touch it,” Vance growled. “Clench those ass cheeks of yours to keep it inside you.”
Moving his hands back to his sides, he knelt in front of Vance. He was freezing, beaten, violated in a way he could not comprehend, starving, and the drugs from last night still messed with his head. If there was a hell he had to suppose it was something like this. His brother had spent a year a prisoner to first a cruel taskmaster and then a sadistic naga. Though it was hard to keep track of time, Nathaniel had to wager he’d been here a month and already felt more broken than his brother had ever gotten. Foster often spoke of the orc maiden that helped him get through the darkest of times. There was no one like that for Nathaniel, beyond family. So those faces were the ones he tried his best to cling to, but it was hard … so hard.
“Slut!”
Nathaniel startled out of musing and looked up into the angry face of his keeper. He couldn’t even start to guess what command he had missed or broken.   A thought from yesterday came back and he dropped to the ground apologizing and slowly started licking Vance’s slippers. There was a deep intake of breath from above and Nathaniel continued running his tongue across the velvet foot. Thankfully Vance seemed to be a clean freak and there was little taste other than the cloth.   Dignity long ago lost, Nathaniel’s only desire was to avoid further beatings his entire backside ached in ways he never knew was possible.
“All right, slut,” Vance said, “apology accepted, if you have calmed down raise your head so I can comb it. If you need it, you may have another moment to yourself while you continue with the cleansing of my shoes.”
Nathaniel licked the slippers a few more times before he rose and rested his ass on his heels. The toy inside him shifted and he pressed a hand against his belly. By the Light it hurt. Biting his lip to remain mute he lowered his hands to his sides as Vance started combing through his hair. There were fewer tangles this time so the anguish of last night was not repeated and soon the lavender conditioner was being worked into his hair.
“Stand,” Vance ordered.
Nathaniel struggled to obey, doing as Vance had said he kept his ass clenched to keep whatever that was inside him within. A rough towel was offered and as he dried off Vance walked over the wardrobe that held the dress from last night. Nathaniel shuddered and lowered his eyes to focus on the other’s man feet. Like a child, he prayed if he didn’t see it, then it wasn’t really happening.
The feet walked back over to him and Vance knelt down, their eyes met and the other man smiled. In his hands was a second pair of lacy women’s underwear. With little choice he raised his left foot and let the underclothing be slide up one leg and then the other. Unable to watch Nathaniel looked away as the cloth was raised up to his thigh, there it paused. Cool fingers cupped him between the legs and he startled but thankfully remembered not to turn away. The hand squeezed his manhood almost gently, before the underwear was pulled up and once again the thin material in the back was forced to slide into his crack. Though it felt uncomfortable, he welcomed it today. It aided in holding the toy inside. Vance seemed to agree as he reached around behind the elf and ran his finger the length of the crack, over the underwear pausing at the tight opening.
“Good job, pet,” Vance said. “Keep it inside you until lunch and I may share my food with you.”
“Yes, Master,” Nathaniel answered.
“Raise your arms,” Vance ordered. The same blue dress from last night was slipped over his head and his keeper moved behind to button it. “I have a very limited collection of clothing for you. Please do try to keep them clean, otherwise I’ll be force to go ‘shopping’ for more.”
"Yes, Master,” Nathaniel said with a soft sigh as Vance stepped back to study him. He wondered what was going through the twisted man’s mind but decided it was probably best not knowing.
There was a knock on the door and Vance frowned. “Enter,” he commanded. A female human with auburn hair and matching tattoos to Vance’s walked in and curtsied. “Sorry to interrupt, Deathspeaker, your presence has been requested by Noth the Plaguebringer.   He waits for you at his lab.”
Vance nodded curtly and the messenger’s eyes moved to Nathaniel, the woman scowled and the elf looked down.
“Slut,” Vance said, “the rats in the ghoul pits are more welcomed here than you.   Show some respect and bow to those above you.”
Nathaniel bent at the waist and was awarded by a crop across his abused ass. He cried out and looked over at his Master alarmed.
“Bow properly, slut,” Vance growled.
Nathaniel frowned; he had been trained in Silvermoon by the Nanny Deni how to bow to royalty. He placed his left hand behind his back, bent at the elbow, resting just above his waist; the right hand went on his waist also bent at the elbow. He bent his upper body until his back was horizontal and then stood up letting his hands return to his sides.
The crop fell again and he choked back a sob. “Master, please show me,” he begged, “Show me what you want. I’ll learn … I swear … please …”
“My apologies, Lady Janelle,” Vance said, “I won’t take any more of your time and will report to the Plaguebringer right away.”
Janelle nodded and bowed once more, Nathaniel watched the curtsy as woman made a hasty retreat. His hands fingered the cloth of the dress he wore and a thought came to him.
“We’re you watching, slut?”
“Yes, Master,” Nathaniel replied.
“Show me,” Vance instructed.
Nathaniel thought back to his youth when his Ma was teaching his sisters how to curtsy before the Winter Ball. For the most part he and Foster and spent their time making fun of said actions by over exaggerating their sisters’ awkward movements. Putting his right foot behind his left, he bowed his head as he bent his knees lifting the dress up slightly.
“Straighten your back,” Vance ordered as walked over to his wardrobe and pulled out a dark robe.   “Move in front of the mirror so you can watch yourself.”
Nathaniel walked over to the full length mirror; the reflection looking back at him was hard to take. He looked like a nightmare with eyes bloodshot from tears, and dark circles under both eyes. The dress he wore was big for his thin frame. The fabric of the dress rubbed against his tender skin as he curtsied, keeping his back straight. A jolt of pain went through him and he screamed, the object inside him hurt and the movement aggravated it.
He saw Vance looks his way in the reflection as he donned the robe. A cruel grin crosses the human’s face. “Again,” he said.
Nathaniel tried once more and was reward with the same ache. He knelt resting his forehead against the cool glass as he doubled over, his arms wrapped around his stomach. He was granted a brief moment of reprieve before the footfalls behind approached. Struggling to his feet once more he stood.
“Is there a problem, slut?”
Nathaniel let out a choked sob. There was no answer to that question that wouldn’t further his punishment. Denying it would involve saying “No” which was against the rules Vance had given, if he said it hurt then the larger ‘toy’ would be used. Strong fingers grabbed his jaw and jerked his head to face his keeper. “Do you suddenly not understand Common, slut?”
“I don’t feel good, Master,” Nathaniel answered truthfully. “I’ll try again, sorry.”
The fingers stayed on either side of his chin as Vance studied him. “I had hoped I would have this day to continue your education; however this is one summons I dare not ignore. You will have to train yourself.” He gestured toward the mirror. “You will continue practicing your bow until I return.” Walking over to the dresser Vance opened a small box sitting on top and took out what looked like a glass globe the size of his hand. There was also a small stand within. Both of these he took over to where Nathaniel stood and sat the stand with the orb resting on it, on the top of a nearby dressing table.
“This is a viewing glass,” he said. “I’ll be able to keep an eye on you while I’m away. If I have not returned by the time the clock strikes twelve you are allowed to get one glass of water from the pitcher there. Beyond that your ass best be in front of this mirror and within my sights at all time or the spanking you got yesterday will feel like a swat on the back of the hand compared to what waits for you when I return. Understand my slut?”
“Yes, Master,” Nathaniel said eyeing the mirror and the orb.
“Show me,” Vance ordered. Putting his right foot behind his left, he bowed his head as he bent his knees. This time he made no outward signs of the pain that jolted through him and Vance nodded. “Very good, my pet,” he said. “I do hope the Plaguebringer doesn’t keep me too long. I would like to get you presentable as soon as possible. I will take my leave now, remember though I am watching. Kiss your master goodbye.”
There was little he could do about the tears of shame that slid down his cheeks, as he leaned forward and kissed the cruel man fully on the lips. This time there was no further orders and as his Master left the room, Nathaniel caught a glimpse of Foster standing outside but thankfully the door was closed leaving him alone. He eyed the globe on the table as the pain from separation from his ring added to the multiple discomforts he already suffered. Crossing his ankles once again he curtsied at his reflection. At least even if he wasn’t truly alone until Vance returned there wouldn’t be the pain of the crop and maybe if he did well enough for his Master even when he returned he would escape the kiss of leather.
It had been less than an hour before the first wave of faintness struck and he stumbled. Glancing at the orb frightfully he quickly regained his feet. As he looked down to make sure his position was correct he was startled to see a large deep crimson stain on the ivory carpet. The ache inside had become a dull throb. In his stupor brought on by hunger and pain he had failed to notice the warmth running down his legs. He was bleeding profusely from whatever Vance had done to him. He eyed the blemish on the carpet; at this rate he wouldn’t remain conscious much longer. A hopeful thought entered his brain as he lowered the dress he wore to cover the blood soaked carpet and bowed into the mirror. If he could last long enough, he may reach the point beyond any healer’s ability to call back from the Light. He could be free of this place and not break the oath given those years ago. Another half-hour passed before he fell to his knees.   Struggling he stood once more, curtsied at the orb and mouthed the words, “Sorry, Master,” before he continued bowing at the mirror. It was only another five minutes before he stumbled again. His skin felt clammy and his pulse beat rapidly.   He rested a hand against the mirror staring at his reflection.
“Just a little more,” he whispered as he continued the routine. Finally after few more bows he could do no more and let himself fall to the ground. As his vision blurred he heard no shouts coming from the hall. “Please, please let it be enough,” he whispered as he closed his eyes, he could feel warmth embrace him and he smiled.
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Shattered