Ellipsis - Creators of Six #1 Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Works

  Copyright

  Dedication

  MAP Ellipsis

  Prologue

  CHAPTER ONE A Mother's Death

  CHAPTER TWO Weaver's Offer

  CHAPTER THREE A Failed Surprise

  CHAPTER FOUR Les's Concern

  CHAPTER FIVE The Hired Men

  CHAPTER SIX Weaver's Threat

  CHAPTER SEVEN Lavender’s Lie

  CHAPTER EIGHT Yezmon’s Choice

  CHAPTER NINE Into the Fire

  CHAPTER TEN A meeting with Gibi

  CHAPTER ELEVEN Fallen Bandages

  CHAPTER TWELVE A Friend's Betrayal

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN Boil

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN The Chosen Council

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN Royal Tailor

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN Water's Abuse

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN Princess of Ellipsis

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN A Princess's Mind

  CHAPTER NINETEEN Uncontrolled Magic

  CHAPTER TWENTY Gibi's Oasis

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE The Ball

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO Sleeping on the Ground

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE A Possible Future

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR Separation

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE Acceptance of Death

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX The Ice Path

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN The End of Weaver

  Glossary

  About

  ELLIPSIS

  Creators of Six: Book One

  JACOB L. WHITE

  Works by Jacob L. White:

  Creators of Six:

  Ellipsis - Book One

  For More Information on Jacob L. White

  Please Visit: Https://www.Jacoblwhite.blog

  Ellipsis

  Copyright © 2017 Jacob White

  All rights reserved.

  A self-published book by Jacob L. White

  Bryan, Texas - United States of America

  Edited By: Paul Ryan and Rising Action Editing

  Cover Art by: Les Solot

  Map Art by: Alex Cherkasoff

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and situations within its pages and places or persons, living or dead, is unintentional and co-incidental.

  1st EDITION October 2017

  ISBN: 9781973134923

  DEDICATIONS:

  Ashley

  The wife who always wins the argument and reminds me that thirty is the new twenty.

  Bianca and Kevin

  For the beautiful noise they make as I concentrate on writing

  Prologue:

  I was raised knowing nothing other than my late father’s establishment. On several occasions through the years, I was asked about the excitement and how they envied me growing up in a pleasure house. Much to their disappointment, after I had explained how my duties consisted of cleaning unremovable stains and cleaning the several chamber pots daily, interest was soon lost. My mother took over after my father’s death and made sure that the pleasure house wasn’t anything to scoff at.

  My mother always tried to show pride in anything she accomplished. This was no different. The Yezmon had a solid stone outside that went up three stories with its bathing chambers and kitchen on the bottom floor towards the end of the house. Just past the entrance, an area for patrons to drink and request other services. We considered it to be the main social area for those who would be joining the Yezmon for the night. The mid-level had eight rooms for paying patrons to receive what they had come for and with the top floor reserved for the flower of the Yezmon, Flo. She wasn’t the oldest working girl there, but she had earned her keep several times over when she came to us under bad circumstances. We would usually find her in long dresses giving off a royal feeling for the guests. Her long black hair only brought her blue eyes out more. She was about the same height as me but as an adult I always looked up at her. Flo was already experienced when she arrived, she took to help with the other eight girls as best she could.

  I was lucky enough to say I had one friend who I could trust without a reasonable doubt. However, she was my only friend. Growing up in my type of apprenticeship didn’t call out to the locals or feminine companionship for that matter, as an invitation to introduce yourself and become friends.

  I found Anna on my way back from picking up soaps and perfume for the women back at the Yezmon. I was in my tenth year of age and from what I could tell, she was about the same. The moment I saw her dressed in ragged clothes of a beggar and eyes of desperation. I remember a feeling as if we were tied together once we locked eyes in the ally alley she was curled up in. I ended up telling her who I was and that she could be taken care of if she decided to come back with me. Hesitantly, she had agreed and followed me at a distance to my home. I couldn’t blame her sadness or hesitation after what I had told her about working at the Yezmon, but she never said a word the entire walk back. I imagine her thoughts consisted of ‘It couldn't be worse than this’ or ‘I'm going to be enslaved for the rest of my life’. Anna was too young to start out as a whore and I was able to convince my mother to let her stay with us as another helping hand. Obviously, I had my own selfish motives at ten; I was getting tired of doing everything alone. Several times my mother reminded me that we weren’t an orphanage. Asking me if I wanted this kind of life for her. But as soon as my mother took her in. She transformed into a caring mother again.

  Anna was too young to start out as a whore and I could convince my mother to let her stay with us as another helping hand. Obviously, I had my own selfish motives at ten; I was getting tired of doing everything alone. Her company was a much-needed reprieve until I was faced with her coming of age at fifteen when she had her first bleed. The other girls in the house had tried to hide it for as long as they could since they had all become fond of her. However, hiding had only lasted about six months of the year. The looks of sympathy she received as she was led down the stairs, only to be replaced with the looks of hunger from the patrons that evening.

  Without thinking I strode up to my mother and snatched Anna’s hand from my mother’s leading her to the kitchens. Never once had I openly challenged my mother on anything, but Anna was my only friend and family. I wasn’t about to let her become the subject of another man’s touch. When my mother had finally found us in the back, washing dishes as if nothing odd had happened. My mother softly screamed my name.

  “Weaver! What in the god’s names do you think you’re bloody doing!”

  Still riding my high of defiance, I talked to her about my feelings regarding Anna. That she was my family and that as a future owner of the Yezmon, I thought it a better investment that Anna stay on as help. By the end of the conversation, my monthly pay was cut from the measly amount of eight coppers to two. Anna knew better than to thank me but still grabbed my hand and gave it a slight squeeze of thanks and we continued throughout our regular duties.

  CHAPTER ONE

  A Mother's Death

  I tried to silently open the back-room chambers that held our sleeping arrangements and where my mother was on her deathbed. The past few weeks I noticed her more weary than usual. Time from time she would have something like this happen, but she always found her feet again. This time was different. Ignoring Flo, who was gently putting a warm c
loth on her head. I went to my mother’s side kneeling next to the basic wooden frame.

  “Hey, Mama, is there anything that I can get you?” She met my eyes and shook her head. A faint smile rested on her thin lips trying to make light of the situation. I couldn’t claim that my mother and I were close, but I understood everything she had done was for us. That was enough to make me love and respect what she had sacrificed to get us here. Trying to run a pleasure house honorably, still takes a portion of your soul away the longer it goes on. I forced a smile of my own to show strength. I only wished the years of hard work hadn’t finally caught up with her.

  “Flo, could you leave us?” My mother whispered. A hand briefly laid on my shoulder as Flo did as asked. My mother slowly rose to a sitting position with my assistance.

  “Weaver, I know this isn’t the life that you had wanted, nor the life that I wanted to give you…” A coughing fit took over the last of her words. Blood was soaking the small cloth covering her mouth. “I am so sorry for what you must endure alone.” I didn’t understand what she was saying, and I wasn't even sure she knew. I gave her the respect she deserved and let her continue. “I have to give you something; it is the only family possession from your father’s line that I have to send on.” My father had served in the king’s military just as his father before him, but I was told that he had passed under unusual circumstances. I wasn’t old enough to remember anything about him, but only what my mother told me. I had mentioned one time about signing up for extra money, but my mother slapped me into silence. She apologized in tears after, but I never mentioned it again. I always just expected to run the Yezmon after she passed, I only wished it wasn’t so soon. Bringing me back from my thoughts she reached out her hand. As always, I could see the faint scars no bigger than a thin strap of leather that had been there for as long as I remembered. I was told me they were from getting her hand stuck in a horse’s reins and the horse took it upon himself to keep moving. The scars wrapped around her middle finger, under her hand into a circle in the center of her palm, then looped back to her wrist as if it was a clasp. “I need you to take something that was entrusted to us. It must be accepted, or you cannot receive it. When I offer it to you, tell me that you accept.”

  “Okay, mother but I’m not sure—” I was cut off by another coughing fit. My mother’s pleading eyes found mine, telling to shut my mouth and do it. “Ok, Mama.” She smiled wide, the time and wrapped her arms around my neck, and then went back to her sitting position.”

  “Weaver I love you and I’m sorry I didn’t say it more. Now, my son, my blood, this gift I do give you of my own volition.” I slid my left hand underneath hers with our palms lightly touching.

  “I, Weaver, accept this gift” I finished the last word, but I couldn't move my hand. The real panic set in as soon as I saw the thin leather bands seeping out of my mother’s skin leaving bloody cuts on her wrist. The smell of coppery blood filled my nose as more blood dripped from my mother and dripped to my own. My mother didn’t make a sound as the leather began to loosen itself. Like an enchanted spider, it slithered its way to my own. My breathing became heavier and heavier. As I cried out, I could feel the leather starting to slice my hand open. My own blood mixed with my mother’s as a puddle began gathering of the hard-wooden floor. Then if I poured salt on a wound, a burning in my hand became worse as the leather buried deeper. I tried with all my might to rip my hand away but just as before an invisible force kept it still.

  “Shit!” I screamed as finally as the strands settled into place. I didn’t want to think about all the questions that raced into through my head but now wasn’t the time. The door slammed open as Anna barged into the room to find me on my back. Her eyes widened as she saw my mother’s still hand hanging off the side of the bed. A faint dripping was the only sound to fill the room.

  “What in the six gods’ names?” She said to the silence of the room. My breathing was still heavy, and I couldn’t find the words.

  “I… I don’t… know.” As I came to my knees to look upon mama again. The light in her brown eyes faded. Blood dripped from her lips, but I could see all the worry and tension had left her. She had left me. Soft steps made their way behind me followed by Anna’s hand.

  “I’m sorry, Weaver.” Anna said.

  “As am I.” I put my right hand onto hers, to avoid using my left that would leave her hand wet with my blood.

  * * *

  Days later the Yezmon gathered to lay my mother’s body to rest. Anna and I decided that the back of the Yezmon would be the best place for her. I looked down and the fresh patch of dirt covering my mother. After a blessing to keep her soul in the afterlife I nodded to Anna as I made my to the back of the gathered party.

  I still remember the first time I heard Anna’s voice. I walked into the kitchens to hear her singing in the morning. I didn’t dare move, in case to break her concentration. Her voice was filled with such beauty and love, but I couldn’t understand why. When we met she was so alone all those years ago. Still she never knew I had seen that day. Without looks of confusion or rejection, she had accepted. Anna had one of the most amazing voice that I ever had the pleasure of witness. But I found myself slumping my shoulders that I had to hear it now. As custom dictates, we needed to send off the dead in song and drink. To let them know we acknowledge their passing and will live on until we meet again.

  A blessing covers your soul so rest easy,

  For your soul will find the way to your love ones.,

  Take care and feel the warmth of your loved ones.

  All that the living request of you is a place at your side,

  So that one day we will embrace again in the warmth of the afterlife…

  I could see the effect of Anna’s singing had on all of us. Flo was holding the hands of two others with lowered heads. With a larger group together shedding tears of their own. I stood and listened to her music. It was a fitting end to my mother’s life, and I was content that I had done the best I could in sending her off.

  I walked up to Anna after and kissed her cheek, tasting a salty tear. Pulling back, I whispered into her ear: “Thank you. It was beautiful.” No other words were needed as we both walked back into the Yezmon. I stood at the forefront of the serving area several hours later. With a drink in hand and faces I had seen since childhood looking back at me.

  “As it is custom, no business will be conducted tonight other than that of the bar. I offer the Yezmon to any who wish shelter for the night as thanks to for helping my mother move on.”

  I raised my wooden mug higher. “To Elizabeth Rizer.” It echoed through the room. After a long drink of ale, I queued the band to begin playing to start the evening of mourning. The night consisted of all the drunks in the house wishing me luck, apologies for my loss, and a firm slap on the back. Anna just smirked up at me each time as bet on how many would come to do the same. Of course, her feminine intuition won her the day, but I reminded myself it was only a battle in the war of wagers. My hand became heavy and voices became a murmur. The slosh of wet boots came to stand in front of me. I immediately knew who it was before his horrid stench and yellow teeth stung my nostrils.

  “Hello, Edmond. Can I get you something to drink?” I looked up to verify my thoughts.

  “Of course, my dear boy.” He said. Sounding as friendly as one could. “As all the many others, here tonight I also wish my condolences and with an offer of friendship for the days to come.” My mother had the sense to avoid him at all costs considering the Oslo was the only other legal operator of a pleasure house in the kingdoms’ capital city, Herosi. However, that wasn’t the reason for the distance. Edmund was known to be a cruel man, a man who would stab, murder, and cheat his way for a single gold piece. “I know our histories haven’t been the best over the years, but I have hope for us yet.” I put the ale in front of him, slamming it a bit too hard as the contents jumped onto his dull red tunic.

  “I appreciate your… offer. However, we both know that
business can occur tonight, but I will tell you this. When I was in my seventeenth year of life, I remember how a woman from your house came crawling in here beaten. One foot was already in the afterlife. She described every detail as Anna here, cleaned out her wounds that were left after a customer had beat her.”

  “Listen I—” I cut him off.

  “Flo had let us know about the customer who had beaten her and how you did nothing. You even had the lack of morals to laugh with the client as gold exchanged hands in front of her.” I looked him dead in the eyes, the facade of friendship no longer on his face.

  “I would rather drink piss before I associate in any with you.”

  “You are a fool just like your mother—” I felt the small bones of his nose collapse against my knuckles. “Piece of shit! I will bring fury and death on you, boy. Fury and death” The garbled message sounded even louder considering the room had gone silent.”

  Out of nowhere “Get out, before I offer the men in this room a free tumble to do the same.” Flo’s voice clearly echoed through the silent room. Not knowing that he could look any worse, his mouth opened into a smile revealing a line of golden tinted teeth. He kept his eyes on Flo as he walked out the front door.

  Composing myself, I raised my wooden mug. “Please, let us not forget why we are here tonight.” The music rattled off again. I called Flo over to speak with her.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Much better now considering you broke his nose.” She gave me a smile.

  “I didn’t mean to bring up old tales. It was just easier to solidify my point that we want nothing to do with him.” She looked down and took a breath.

  “Just a memory, but now I also have the memory of your mother taking a chance on me. That outweighs the bad any day.” She reached over the bar and wrapped her arms around my neck.