Sa’manatha was watching Jace spar against three of the guardsmen. He wasn’t wearing practice armor, and while the swords were blunt they could break the skin or break bones. He stopped wearing the gear right after his conversation with the Sage a little more than 60 days ago. He said he needed to get better before they left this place, and the armor was making him get hit. Or something like that. At first he was almost killed accidently, repeatedly. Much to her displeasure, he almost died a number of times some of which she heard about on the day he was training, some of which she heard about much later. If it wasn’t for the quick healing of the Mages, he definitely wouldn’t have made it through to today. While he often needed healing that first 20-30 days he soon started to improve by leaps in his fighting technique. He stopped using the shield as well, focusing on two handed use of the sword. His improvement in sword play was stunning. Frankly, while she knew little about the sword, when she watched him fight now, she found him beautiful.

He was like a king amongst children. These were the three best of the guardsmen, and all three of them were being forced back by a storm of swordplay. He dodged blades by the barest of distances, slid between their ranks and one by one overwhelmed them with his strength, speed and reach. She could see the sweat streaming down their faces, the stunned gasps as he quickly almost as if he had eyes behind his head met every blade heading toward him. His sword was at least twice the size of the others. He kept trading up to bigger and bigger swords and this was genuinely the largest sword they had. In addition to the long reach the huge blade afforded him, he was also, impossibly much faster than them.

They almost seemed like they were moving in slow motion as he spun out of an entrapment, parried a horizontal slash with such force the other sword bent and fell out of the hand of the man wielding it, and continued, the blunted tip of the blade dipping under the shield and crashing into the thigh of the man who dropped his blade, causing him to fall with a curse. With one man down he showered blows upon the shield of the next, while the 3rd tried to get behind him. He kept moving away from the 3rd man while circling the 2nd, eventually his sword hit the man’s shoulder, not the shield, dropping him to his knees, then changing direction and with a beautiful thrust of the blade hammered the last man’s shield so hard drove him back 3 steps, breaking his form. He charged after the guardsman not giving him a chance to recover and with two more swipes of the blade broke his wrist for the arm holding the sword and rang the man’s helmet hard enough to cause him to fall onto his backside.

Laughing, the one who took the blow to the leg said “You’re a natural Jace. Never seen someone master a sword this quickly. You’d give my old teacher a run I’d say.” The man on his knees holding his broken wrist barked out a laugh “Fuck my mother. I think he could go toe to toe with a fairy blademaster. Got a chance to spar one once. They’re nimble and accurate but I think Jace is faster and stronger. Think he could give one a surprise. Can’t believe you never held a sword less then a third of a year ago.” The other one was regaining his feet as the mage healed his injury. “I won’t kiss your ass, but I got to say you’re better than my teacher. Don’t know about a fairy blademaster. Think one of them could kill you. But you wouldn’t embarrass yourself with one. Those fairies use light swords and long reach to make it impossible to deal with. You’re bigger than them. And your strength is unnatural. It’s like you’re a Rock Demon with that blade.”

Setting the blunted sword aside he shook his head, then looked to Sam. “Sam, grab my shirt. I need to wipe down.”

After meeting with the Sage he became a driven person. She thought he was hard working before, but she realized compared to now the person before that meeting was aimless. She was there during the meeting and didn’t hear anything to explain why he was so driven. She never saw someone with so much sense of purpose to them. Life was hard so most people just did what they could to get by. There were slaves who could do hard work for the freemen. And slaves themselves weren’t working for themselves, there was no sense of purpose. She saw it in herself. If she was half as driven as he it wouldn’t have taken her anywhere near 10 years to be ready to teach him how to speak the language.

After meeting the sage, he started giving the name “Jace”. She asked him if it meant anything where he came from and he laughed saying Jace was the name of a powerful wizard, a “Planewalker”. The answer puzzled her since she knew he said there was no magic where he came from. So she asked him about the contradiction. He simply laughed and said “in Magic, Jace is an asshole.”

“But you’re not an asshole”

“True, but sometimes the world needs an asshole more than it needs a savior.”

A small frown on her face she pouted cutely, “Are you making fun of me?” She never knew him to tease her but it sounded like he was, he had a strange look on his face as if he was trying not to laugh. Then he reached out and patted her head.

“Sorta. Listen I’ll explain. There is a game on my planet. In it there is a wizard called Jace. He is what the game called a ‘planeswalker,’ a powerful wizard. Since magic is real here, I’m going to make Jace my goal.”

Thinking back on that conversation and the really awkward way he tried to convey whatever it was he found funny about the name Jace and why he thought being this Jace fit his life here, she found his bad explanation rather endearing now, especially how earnest he was in trying to help her get a joke she simply didn't understand no matter how hard he tried to explain it.

She followed behind him through the passages toward their room, her heart thumping out of control as it sometimes did when she was alone with him. In the last few months they had grown very close. Though it never blossomed into a physical relationship. She had learned a little of why. It seemed he was in love with a girl back in his world. He spoke about her once, only saying he missed her and wasn’t worthy of her. She outclassed him apparently. She was smart, athletic, and breathtakingly beautiful. He was completely smitten about her. Her heart ached for them both because they were separated from each other. It also ached for herself because she knew he’d never feel that way about her.

That didn’t stop her from yearning for him. She wished he’d look her way once. She knew she excited him sometimes. She knew he struggled not to lay his hands on her. Sometimes she felt like they were a hair's breadth away from crossing that line. But they never did. It didn’t stop her from using him as a body pillow at night. Nor did it stop her from running her hand across his stomach and down to his manhood while he was asleep. Nor did it stop her from relieving herself with fantasies.

She started to feel flushed as her cheeks turned pink just thinking about it on the way back to the room. When he reached the room, he sat down on a stool by a bucket left here for this purpose. He stripped and started to wipe himself down with a rag from the bucket of water. She removed her robe and grabbed a cloth, dunking it in the bucket she started to wash his back. This was something she started to do on her own about 30 days ago, she knew it sexually aroused him, but he never told her to stop. If anything he seemed to secretly look forward to this skinship, never once bathing without her assistance since she started this service. Tonight she wanted to try to push it further. Her heart was thumping in her throat as she slowly washed his muscular lower back, then she bravely swallowed her nervousness and pressed her chest into his back.

As he wiped his chest down she suddenly reached around and started to wash between his legs. He froze “Sam” he spoke quietly, urgently as his hand grabbed her wrist. Stopping the motion of the cloth in her hand wrapped around his erect member.

She ignored him and gently kept moving her hand, and brought her lips close to his broad muscular back she stuck her small tongue out and lightly licked a bead of sweat from his spine. He shivered and twisted a little, a light moan actually escaped his lips, she lightly brought her tongue back to the middle of his back and licked and kissed her way up his back her hand gripping him and pumping gently, his hand on her wrist growing slack as his breathing became more and more ragged. She nibbled on his neck while pressing her breasts against him, her other hand going down under the shaft and lightly fondling. His muscles spasmed and he grunted she felt his member start to jerk and throb.

His hands closed on hers and pulled them away from his manhood. Holding her small hands engulfed in his, he spoke quietly. “Is this what you want? Or what the sage wants? Answer me truthfully.”

“I want this” was her whispered reply.

He took a couple deep breaths then stood up and carried her to the bed. Then laid her down on it. His eyes almost mad with lust. “I don’t love you. Not romantically.”

“I know”

He stood there over her, studying her naked body lying on the bed. Actually looking at her body. His manhood was standing as well. He was as large as a bear, and gorgeous, the long hair dangling loose, that trimmed beard that dark hair. His chiseled body. She knew she wanted him. “Please” her voice leaked out. He descended on top of her, the last wall between them fell, and from that night on, they worked to create a child.

The prior night was a blur. He woke up in the morning with Sam wrapped around him. He felt like a tank next to a bike. She was so small and light, she also was pretending to sleep. He had slept next to her for what on earth would have been 3 months, he knew when she was asleep and when she wasn’t. Looking at the tangled mass of blonde hair splayed out on his chest he pondered if he should let her know he woke up.

He never really expected he’d ever fuck this girl. But last night 4 earth months of blue balls finally overwhelmed his reason. At first he was able to hold on to a slight thread of reason, he suspected this was supposed to be her first time. He didn’t want to ravage her and hurt her. However, he quickly realized while it could have been her first time she wasn’t bleeding from it and didn’t seem to be in any pain. Her urgent pleas for him only melted whatever reason was left and soon he forgot all about his concerns about harming her as they engaged in a workout with an intensity unlike any he could ever recall.

He didn’t dislike her. She was as close to him as any friend back on earth. If anything she was probably a closer to him then Jenn was. It was strange how she had wormed her way into his heart. He couldn’t reason out why he had grown so attached to her. Even though he intentionally tried to keep walls up between them. She was just so comfortable to be around.

He disliked the fact he legally owned her. There was something “wrong” with that power structure. But slavery was for life on this world. There was no way to undo it. He couldn’t free her if he wanted to; at least he couldn’t yet. Some things he could fix some things he couldn’t. The crushing inhumanity of this planets humans was something he figured he’d never be able to correct. Nor did fixing it take him one step closer to his goals.

The interesting thing was he actually didn’t feel particularly guilty about it. He still loved Jenn, but the reality was, his life on earth was over. He wouldn’t be going back anytime soon. He wasn’t a virgin before he came here. He wasn’t particularly experienced but he had had sex before, so he didn’t attach any mystical attachment to it. For the same reasons he couldn’t expect Jenn to hold faithful to him. Furthermore, he might NEVER leave this place. When he had that discussion with the sage all those months ago he decided to bury earth. It was his goal but that was WHY he had to bury it. In order to get back he had to stop looking back at it. He had to completely immerse himself in this world and play the farcical role of savior to a “T”. If he kept thinking about what he left behind he’d never do it. Who he was on earth was NOT a savior. What he was and what he dreamed on earth meant nothing here. Until he fully buried those things he’d struggle here.

So he quietly apologized one more time to Jenn in his heart, and buried the conflicting feelings he had for Sam. She was his slave. This was reality. She was here to bear him children. To deal with his sexual frustration, to help educate him, and make his life easier. He was here to provide her food and shelter. This was how this world was.

He wasn’t happy about it, but this was life now. At least he probably wouldn’t have to wake up anymore in the middle of the night and pretend he didn’t notice a very sexually frustrated girl rubbing his dick. She still had her small hand wrapped around his morning wood. Debating how to get her hand off his member, she stopped fake sleeping and “woke up” probably noticing him shifting slightly and started to slowly pump it with her hand. Sighing in an exaggerated manner to himself he found he was happily wondering if they’d get out of bed today.