Spun-Sugar: chapter one revision.

Spun-Sugar
Or, the mad captains laugh and the uncultured executioner.


Prelude

Throughout the soft pink sky (known as the Spun Sugar) a rebellion is starting. Sheep will die when the shepherd is betrayed by his arrogance. The wolf has its own valor. Its honor is cunning. Its faith is in hospitality. Yet, what is discovered is that death is only the beginning. For, your reputation is all that will survive.

This is the story of Bartholomew Rainwater. The messiah of the insurrection of cursed houses falling and the damnation of liberty.

I am the scholar of the flood of the destroyed age. Spreading the good news that each life has value (even though some must be taken). Proverbs of piracy for those with their wits about them. Proverbs for those the world has no use for.

Some things that will be said many would wish had died. Some that have died are lost to time. Though What I have found should be every man's bread.

Part one: A man of the cloth alone with his doubts.

Chapter 1

"For I have dipped my hands in muddied waters, and, withdrawing them, find 'tis better to be a commander than a common man!" - Bartholomew Roberts.

"the map is not the journey till it illuminates the territory." - Jim Dodge.


So our story starts on one of the many floating islands. The home of Mr. Rainwater is one is of the archipelago of The Coalmine-canary Islands.

There is the Nation of Radredol. With over half the population being of royal blood. The rest who are alive are but civilians of the Kings, Dukes, and The sky knights.

A civilian has little Value other than as manual labor, plaything, or genetic material for biomechanical experiments of the Dead-Trolls.

On the island of the Rainwater family. One member of this family is a middle-aged man whose name is Caleb. He wears the robes (looks like a showers robe but made of silk with elaborate patterns) of his faith with a shaved head. Following his Lorde being he is led by his master's hand (a chain in it and a collar on Caleb's neck.)

Caleb is a loyal dog who in his heart is still a stray mutt. As a priest of the faith, he is "available" to his master. The eyes tattoed on his rear end marking him as the Faith bringer to one of the families of those highest in society.

The islands are lush with green and blue plants, with an unnatural overabundance of geometry. Caleb looks at the pink sky but is smacked back to reality, by the sadistic hand... his face stinging from the wound of his master.

"Caleb you dream too much, if it wasn't so much fun to hurt you it is likely I would have had you killed by now," said Henry the VIII.

"Forgive me," said Caleb "it is something I struggle with."

Caleb thought: I hate him. No.  I hate my indignity.

"yes I know Caleb, just know when we get home you are getting the rod," said Henry the VIII

Then, Henry, the VIII laughed the Cruel miserable laugh that made Caleb smile once but that was before he knew it as foreplay.

The tattoed eyes were glowing red like real eyes if you poured shampoo into them. Sore and aching Caleb would not cry. Not once through the hole-pounding business of it all.

"Don't be a queer Caleb," said Henry the VIII "You know it makes me uncomfortable when you enjoy it."

Caleb with his deliberate breathing through his mouth. Trying to tolerate the sadism. hunched over the arms of a couch holding his cheeks apart trying to give any distance from his flesh and the invading other.

Caleb said nothing knowing it was a trap. You did not want to make Henry feel he was gay, but, you could not deny him the pleasure of knowing you were being wronged. Caleb for his part Didn't care either way. He did not like being hurt but the closest he got to sexuality was being asexual.

So he let the sadist take his ride. Henry's hands grabbed Caleb's wrists (the chain tot he leash still in his hand), arching his spine back to a rage of self-loathing projected into Caleb's flesh. Taking with each thrust. Until in a spasm, he rests inside him.

Caleb didn't look at Henry. He knew that with Henry's lust satisfied he would turn back into his homophobic self.

Henry screamed out for one of his guards to take Caleb to his cell. They took the leash from their master's hand and led the wounded and sore man away.

Henry collapsed on the ground tears welling up. As much deeply manipulating himself as he did all others.

Henry thought: I'm in love with my wife. I'm in love with my wife...

Alone in his room, he stood legs shaking... his responsibility for the day done.  He ate his gruel, Drink his water, and went to the window where his friend (a song sparrow named messiah) Waited on the sill between the bars.

The bird chirped some sweet sounds which Caleb understood as "What a douchebag those royals are."

"yes." said Caleb "but there is nothing to gain from resentment."

"Oh please my friend, don't be so perfect!" Said Messiah "you need to kill yourself or at least that Henry Douchebag. You deserve better than these indignities."

"If I deserved better than that is what I would have," said Caleb

This is what in later years he would regret... It was the seed planted that would lead to the great tragedy of his life.

Caleb said, "Please sing for me."

And messiah obliged. The chirping whooping notes rang out through the chamber. Innocent comfort. Bedeviling kindness. It was also the last time he would hear his friend sing. The last day he would feel Henry inside of him. Though new cruelty would come.... Now he lay on his stomach aching and throbbing. Soothed by the illiterate beauty of a Friendship that would cost one of them everything.