Searching For Andromeda 78 The Past Attributed To Yael's Goal 1

The Holy City had many branches, but the Holy Church was only located in Raam where history about the world was written. At least, the history as the tribe had known. 

Dungeons—as said by the Rim's scriptures, were said to be Wahid's trials to perfect the world. Wahid, the One and Supreme Being that had been the creator of the world, had given each of the dungeons their own deities. These minor G.o.ds were beings bestowed with the small number of Wahid's powers. And they are called 'Wahid's Vessels,' who had taken the form of various weapons, s.h.i.+elds, or just sheer power. 

One of the first deities to be conquered was the Water Deity Ma'an, who had been claimed by a certain boy several thousand years ago—the first king of Feyfrost, a country in the Western continent Kurbeln. 

The purpose of the dungeons—or the Vessel themselves wasn't clear to the scriptures. They were described as 'Tome of Knowledge' and 'Power to Rule' but none was stated what purpose it had.

Yael wasn't a Historian, nor was he interested in finding G.o.d's will. The moment he was born in a country that did not even care for its citizens, he had forgotten the revered Wahid. 

But he needed power.

Now that he had looked back to it, he just thinks it was ironically funny. Not believing in Wahid, but desiring the power He had bestowed. 

And Yael didn't even have a purpose until he met her.

His savior.

** Several years ago **

"The kids were all rescued and are taken into extensive facilities here in Alaris. The younger children will be put into orphanages and we will make sure they will get a good life," 

Silence.

"You really don't talk much, huh?" The woman chuckled. "Is he like this back in Patriargë?"

Hosea nodded and smiled. "Yes, Miss. Yael's been like this ever since I've known him. He's a man of few words."

The woman's pink eyes darted to Yael, who was sitting in the infirmary bed. On the other bed lied Hosea. They were the teens who were beaten up, and were the ones who weren't in the age span of the extensive care unit. The woman who had rescued them—the guild master of the Red Alaris Guild—had proposed to take them to her wing. Although Hosea agreed enthusiastically, Yael has stayed silent. 

The dissimilarities in Hosea and Yael's physique had taken quite the difference in terms of the time of their recovery. Hosea was bedridden for several days due to fatigue, lack of sleep, malnourishment, and several other factors; while it took Yael only a few hours to recover. 

"Yael, was it?" The guild master said. "Can I talk to you alone? In my office?"

Yael nodded and then glanced at Hosea, who gave him a thumbs-up. Yael wondered how Hosea became chirpy when he was, just several days ago, completely pa.s.sive, and had an empty look in his eyes?

The door shut behind the woman as Yael entered her office. She had salmon-colored hair and bright, pink eyes. Yael couldn't predict what her age was, but she was a guild master. Obviously, she already is an accomplished adult. She was wearing a battle gear, but her belt was void of weapons. 

The guild master sat on the sofa, and then patted the side.

"Here. Sit here."

Yael, without hesitation, sat beside her. 

Slap!

Yael slowly glanced down to the guild master's hand, which has slapped his shoulder. His dark eyes met hers, and then—

"Wrong. You shouldn't be too obedient!" She exclaimed, puffing her cheeks. "What if I was actually setting a trap on you? What if there would be spikes in the chair? What if after you sit down you'd get plummeted into a bear trap? To the sky? Lava?"

Yael blinked.

"Consider the possibilities. You shouldn't let your guard down at all times, especially if you don't know the name of the person you're talking to!" She exclaimed, and then from her scolding disposition changed into a bright smile as she extended her hand. "My name is Shey, the guild master."

Yael stared at her hand. 

"Yael . . ."

Guild master Shey tilted her head. "Aren't you going to accept my hand?"

Yael leaned towards Shey, and then held her hand.

"That's right, and wh-whwhat are y-you—"

Yael pressed his lips softly on the back of her palm, and then licked.

The guild master retracted her hand away. Her face was comparable to a stewed cherry. 

"Wh-whwhat was that for?! I—I'm older than you, you know! Even the differences in our height and all of that I—I'm—"

Yael stared at Shey, sheer confusion only in his face.

"Did I . . . do it wrong?"

Shey scowled. "What?"

Yael scooted closer to Shey, and then leveled his face to her bosom.

He parted his lips—

"Hey!" Shey exclaimed, pus.h.i.+ng Yael away as she rose from her seat. "What is wrong with you? I came here to talk about what happened back in the s.h.i.+p, and y-you're!" 

"Yes, and was I doing something wrong?"

Shey blinked. "Pardon?"

"You're our new master now, right?" Yael asked, his eyes blank. "Is it wrong to pleasure you too?"

Shey's fl.u.s.tered expression gradually softened. She took a deep breath and sat beside Yael.

"I told you, Yael. You're safe now. I told you it's going to be okay." Shey exclaimed. "You're free. You have no 'master' here but yourself."

Yael stared at Shey with sheer apprehension. His mind is forming a thick, black fog the longer his dark eyes stared at her. Memories of him being with THAT woman. Her lips tainted with his blood mixed with the juices he had excreted from her filthy tortures begun to flash in his mind like a nightmare he couldn't escape, even if he was awake.

"Yael, tell your master that you love it." 

"Yael, Yael, Yael! You're born low, and you will always be a lowly filth!"

"Call me 'Mother,' Yael,"

"YAEL, YAEL, YAEL!"

—"Yael."

The block fog in Yael's mind slowly eased as he felt yet that similar warmth embracing his very being. The guild master wrapped her arms around him and pushed his head to her bosom whilst she stroked his head. Yael, again, had tears pouring out of his eyes, drenching Shey's clothes. He didn't have any control over them, unlike his mouth, which was trained not to talk back. 

"It's going to be okay. You're free, Yael. You're free now," says Shey. "I want you to tell me everything, I want you to tell me what happened in Patriargë."

Yael slowly leaned away from Shey. Tears began to pour from his eyes again as Shey cupped his cheeks; and with her thumb, she wiped the beads of his tears.

"You will not talk back, Yael. That is what I'm training you to."

"PLEASURE YOUR MOTHER, YAEL."

"You're nothing but a filth from the slums. You should be grateful!"

Yael had his lips sealed for the whole time he was in HER manor. But looking at Shey's eyes made him feel like he had to break the shackles SHE had put him to. He had to speak. He had to tell her.

"It began on the Damian Manor . . ."