The Grey Ones
The Visitors: IX

THE VASAATH

The feel of her small hand still lingered on his arm. He could still feel her caress, like a whisper against his skin. It had taken him every grain of willpower not to touch her back, to drag her into him, to breathe in her scent and revel.

It had taken him everything he had not to let his fingers curl around her silken locks and pull her down, down beneath him. But she had recoiled from him, frightened. Had she noticed the wanting in his eyes? The desire he held for her? The imminent slip of his self-control?

His urges were strong, and he had not truly known how strongly he felt for the girl until she was so viciously silenced by that pitiful man—nay, boy. He felt protective, possessive, and it angered him to no end. He had no right feeling the way he did. It was driving him mad, and the more he thought about how little he should care for the girl, the more he did. It was tearing him apart.

When Kasethen returned, the Vasaath decided that he could no longer fight it and he needed council. He took a deep breath as said to his friend, “I desire the girl.”

Kasethen blinked, seemingly very surprised, but then hummed. “Are you sure?”

The Vasaath glared at him. “Do you think I would seek your wisdom if I wasn’t? I covet the human and it drives me mad.” He sighed and stood, before determinedly striding up to the table to pour himself a glass of wine.

“Perhaps,” said Kasethen, “it’s the lack of a maasa that has you believing you crave for the lady? I could send for one of the saath-maasas.”

“No,” the Vasaath rumbled. “They are ohkasenon. They’re not trained to receive me.”

Kasethen pulled his brows together. “Well, they have maasas in the city, if that would suffice? I believe they receive kings as well as soldiers. I could summon one for you, if that would please you.”

“No.” The Vasaath took a strengthening breath. “Humans have no maasas. They do not revere women like that. Either way, it isn’t merely release I seek.” He sighed. “It’s release through her.” He took a deep gulp of wine. “I cannot do anything without her haunting my mind; I dream of her, I long for her, I yearn for her! It’s torture, Kasethen! And to make matters worse, I simply cannot allow myself to feel this way. What am I to do?”

Kasethen seemed at a loss for words. He knew, as well as the Vasaath, that any such relationship—physical or emotional—with an ohkas was forbidden for a vas of Kasarath.

The Vasaath did not take lovers; when his urges arose, he would let a vas-maasa relieve him, as was a maasa’s role. His seed was sacred and only carefully selected females of his own kind would mate with him and receive it. Mating for him was ritualised, not done out of desire. A maasa’s touch was healing, not tempting. It was thusly senseless of him to want a woman for himself, for his own pleasure. But such was the situation, and both the Vasaath and his advisor knew that nothing good could come out of this. They both also knew, however, that without a maasa’s services, the Vasaath would go mad.

“Perhaps, my lord,” said Kasethen, “extraordinary circumstances require extraordinary measures.”

The Vasaath narrowed his eyes. “And what do you mean by that?”

“Well,” Kasethen hummed, “if you truly are troubled, then I’m confident that you, in lack of a vas-maasa, surely wouldn’t replace yourself under any scrutiny for doing whatever you need to calm your mind. If you say that you cannot perform your duty with such troubles, you should do all you can to be rid of them.”

The Vasaath pondered for a moment. It was indeed true—the girl had occupied his thoughts more and more as of late, and soon, he wouldn’t be able to think about anything else. That would compromise them. He needed to stay sharp. But there was the problem with the human not being a maasa—she had no obligation to relieve him. And even if she was one, she still might not accept him. He would not wish to have her by force, there was no honour is such profanity, and she was without a doubt set out to marry that petty lord. Infidelity, she had told him, was a crime punishable by death in this city.

Frowning, the general said, “She must want it.”

“Yes,” said Kasethen. “That, she must.”

“And how do I ensure that she is willing?”

There was a quick expression of smugness and mockery in Kasethen’s face before he said, gravely, “Courtship.”

The Vasaath twisted his face into a disgusted scowl and muttered, “I will do no such thing!”

“My lord, you cannot suppose a young noblewoman to be willing without proper courtship,” said Kasethen.

“Courtship is the initiation of marriage,” the Vasaath spat. “I have no intention of entering such a preposterous arrangement, and it would be dishonest of me to pretend that I did.”

“Then the only things remaining are plain old flattery and seduction.”

“I do not flatter. I do not seduce.” Anger flared up inside him. He curled his hands into fists and began pacing.

“Then how do you want to overcome this obstacle?”

He muttered something indecipherable, before hissing, “Why do humans have to be so difficult? They make the easiest things complicated far beyond measure.”

“My lord, mainlanders replace it difficult to separate feelings from needs,” said Kasethen. “Physical relations outside of marriage are frowned upon, because they cannot separate the needs of the flesh from the needs of the heart. They believe it is the same thing.”

The Vasaath sighed deeply and said bitterly, “They also believe that their Builder will condemn them to an afterlife in the Netherworld if they lie with someone who isn’t their spouse. Naturally, this only applies to women.” He huffed in disgust, unable to fail to see the insanity in the argument.

“So how will you go about it?”

“I don’t know.”

Silence fell between the two, but the Vasaath felt relief in having shared his burden with someone who seemed to understand his problem. It had, however, now dawned on him how difficult this situation truly was. There was no escaping it: he could no longer suppress his urges. He could be bold, he could present her with a proposition, but he knew the answer already. The way she recoiled from him was proof enough. She feared him. How could she then allow him to touch her, to lie with her?

“May I make a suggestion, my lord?” asked Kasethen, and the Vasaath gave him an encouraging gesture. Kasethen closed his hands together and started to slowly pace around. “Be gentle with her, be polite and gracious. Smile, revere her, compliment her, and perhaps you can stir her emotions enough to awaken her urges and needs.”

The Vasaath considered this. He didn’t like flattery, and he didn’t like the thought of having to chase something he otherwise was entitled to as an individual—sexual release was as necessary as food and water. It was a basic need that had to be satisfied for the individual to remain focused and centred. Deny it, and the building pressure would be expressed through recklessness and violence—or gloom and detachment.

In any normal case, it wouldn’t matter who granted him release. His only demand was that his vas-maasa was a woman—in dire times, even that didn’t matter. But this wasn’t a normal case—he had never felt longing for an individual before.

Indeed, there had been women of the People that had stirred his interest, especially in his youth; he remembered seeing a maasa’s bare chest for the first time, and imagining how the fullness of her breasts would feel in his hands. He also remembered his first visit to a maasa, how wonderful it had felt, and how his urges had been barely quenchable for a time after that.

But that was nothing uncommon. All individuals were curious once they reached a certain age, and sexual experiences were often pleasurable. It always took a few years to understand the differences between hedonism and true need. This was, however, a real need of his, and it wouldn’t be satisfied with anyone else but her.

The Vasaath sighed in defeat. “I’ll do my best, but it could take time. What if it takes too long?”

“Discipline, my lord,” said Kasethen. “Discipline.”

The general only glared at him, but said nothing.

Translation:

Maasa – healer

Saath-maasa – military healer

Vas – leader

Vas-maasa – “healer of the leaders”