FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

This story is set in a fantasy world called Reldin, a vast continent of kingdoms similar to Europe, but with much more blending of cultures for the time period, as you will see. There are multiple sections in other languages, including French, Russian, German, and more. Now my only references are translating services online, so if you happen to speak the language typed but believe there is a mistranslation, please message me! This is the first part of a series of adventures, as well as my first upload, so comment any errors for reupload. Lastly, this series may contain themes and concepts you are uncomfortable with involving sex, politics, religions, etc. If you are offended by these ideas, including theft, homosexuality, religions both real and made up, slavery, etc, please don't read. Otherwise, thanks for reading, and enjoy!

The young fox sped through the crowded market, quickly darting from stall to stall as to avoid contact with any of the throng of furs there. They sickened him, not with their greed or material lust, but with their blind searching for deals from these mongers. Wanting things you don't have was understandable, but throwing yourself into the risk of a debt was far too serious an undertaking for what they wanted. It had been how his family was bought and paid for. He sneered at the crowd as his fur blurred out of sight.

The Duke was expecting his return soon. That is, he was expecting the return of the parcel the fox had been sent to retrieve from a trusted artisan. Duke Bellemont rarely, if ever, had enough concern for his slaves to as much as expect their return. After all, he had the money to replace them, why worry about them? The fox began a low growl as he raced to the servant's entrance of his master's estate.

Castle Bellemont's "servant" door opened into a dark, filthy tunnel that snaked its way towards the kitchen, the focal point of the slave areas. The boy made his footpaws fleet as he squinted down the tunnels draconian length. The Duke would not excuse any tardiness in this matter; he never did. He quickly entered and exited the kitchen without so much as a glance to the hapless souls just then eating dinner. He raced up the stone steps leading out of the lower levels and flew past the door marking the barrier between dank dungeon and regal palace. Another flight of stairs, these padded with velvet and made of marble, and a long corridor later, the fox found himself at his detestable master's door. He leaned in, listening to ensure he would not be interrupting, and rapped a quick, rhythmic knock into the oak door of his master's quarters. After a few moments silence, there came a response.

"Putain l'enfer! Pas un instant de répit! "

The voice was harsh as can be, yet fluid, as often a Francian's tongue was. The fox waited patiently for a direct reference to him of some kind, knowing full well the punishment for speaking out of turn. A sigh wafted through the cracks in the door followed by more swearing and complaining.

"Fine, fine, who the hell is there?"

Clearing his throat, the fox spoke up, "It's Blink, sir."

"The Breton slave boy? What do you want, you impertinent buffoon? It had better be a good reason to interrupt my rest!"

Blink glared as if to burn holes through the door, forcing down the snarl in his throat as he spoke. "I have the parcel you sent me for, sir, the one from Mister Ulbrecht, the leatherman."

"Ah, I see! Well bring it inside, don't just stand in the hall with it! Christ tout-puissant, est-il pas une telle chose comme une bonne aide?!"

Blink forced the hatred away from his face as he gently used a paw to push open the door. As always, the fat, disgusting boar sat waiting at the end of his bed with one paw stroking through the coarse, crimson hair coating his belly. Blink made sure not to stare, as that would mean enduring another night of the bastard's "company." He met the Duke's eyes then ever so slightly bowed to him, extending a paw to offer the parcel he had travelled all day to retrieve.

The boar waved a hand dismissively towards the bedside table, telling the fox where to place it. Blink quickly nodded understanding and turned to leave the package there, his tail stock still as he walked. 'I'm not giving that bastard any reason to want me, not tonight of all nights, damnit,' he thought. Having gently set the brown paper clad parcel on the nightstand, the fox swiftly turned to face his master and await dismissal for the evening. Instead, a vicious smirk crept onto the boar's face as he stared at Blink.

"Open it up for me, will you?"

Warily, Blink took the edges of the thick, brown paper and slowly began unfolding it. Upon finishing, his eyes widened at the sight of the flog that lay there. He quickly reset the size of his eyes so as not to give away any fear building in his muscles.

"Normally, I would break it in so as to prevent the leather from stiffening. Tonight, however, I am far too tired to do so. I think you can help me with this, oui?"

Blink simply nodded assent as he watched the sadistic glee grow in his master's eyes. He deftly undid the buttons on his shirt, letting it drop to his waist so as to expose the fur and flesh on his back. His onyx fur bristled with the shiver spreading across his muscles at the thought of adding a few more scarlet streaks to his back fur for a while. With his right paw, Blink lifted the twisted handle of black leather, allowing the knotted heads to fall to the floor with nine horrid clacks. He stared at his master with no emotion, awaiting a signal to begin.

The boar's gold-capped tusks spread slightly farther before he chuckled out, "Twenty ought to do it, don't you think?"

Blink raised the flog in mute assent of his command. With a flick of his forearm and wrist, the lashes stung into the vulpine's lean flesh. His face remained stoic, knowing the Duke's pleasure came from the writhing more than the pain itself. He lowered his arm and repeated the action with another hot sting across his back. After the twelfth lash, his tail twitched involuntarily, eliciting a delighted giggle from the boar. Seven lashes more and Blink could feel the fur begin to mat from his own blood. With one final lash, the boar chuckled and the fox's knees buckled ever so slightly. It was finished, and Blink returned the now coiled flog to the bastard's nightstand. He returned to stand before the Duke to await further instructions.

"Bien joué, you may go," he chuckled vilely.

Blink nodded understanding and turned around to leave before the boar grunted to stop him.

"Don't forget to make yourself presentable, boy," the boar chided.

Still facing away from the Duke, Blink winced in pain as his shirt tightened against the raw cuts in his back. Buttoning the canvas sack shirt closed, he took his leave of the boar and raced to the kitchen for his meal. There he was greeted by the cook, a kindly badger named Ms. Everly. Her apron shifted around as she bounded over to him.

"Grab ye some scraps, boyo, and lemme take a look atcha back," she said.

"Was it that loud you could hear it here, then?" Blink winced as she peeled his shirt back off.

"Boyo, it was loud enough ta be heard down in tha valley. Did he do it himself again, or was some poor soul forced ta do it to ye?" She began to gingerly swab his cuts with a damp rag, causing a few unwanted whimpers to escape the fox's muzzle. "Ach, quit whinin, I'm barely touchin ya."

"Sorry, Ev, it's just a little sore. Actually, he had me do it myself."

"God, how savage can 'e geht?" A pause of silence settled between them while the badger tended to his wounds. "So how goes your search fer freedom, kit?"

"Don't call me a kit, Ev," he snapped with a low growl. "I turn 17 this year, after all."

"Sorry, mester big man, I fergot. Now gemme tha details."

He let out a sigh before he continued talking. "Somebody spilled everything, the whole cache was gone, probably in the demon's vault by now. I scraped for six years to build that up, and now it's all gone, same as with my folks and theirs afore them." Another sigh, another pause. "It's going to take a miracle to get out of here now, Ev. Hell, I'll likely never even be promoted to house staff. I'm fucked Ev, and quite royally."

"Watch yer mouth, boyo, I'm still a lady."

"Sorry, Ev, but at least you lot have bloody rights. I'm gonna be stuck here with scars for the rest of my bleeding life, all 'cause some nosy Jane thought she'd get some reward for it." His paw slammed to the kitchen table in emphasis and pain as a particularly nasty cut was swabbed. "There's just no other way to put it, Ev, I've got nothing left."

She sighed and patted him lovingly between his swiveling ears. He shivered then calmed at the matronly touch. "You'll git yer miracle, trust me boyo. You were meant fer far more'n this, yewl see 'at much, boyo."

He slumped down as Everly finished doctoring him up, grabbing a bowl of scraps on his way to the stairs to his quarters. Stopping at the door to the spire, Blink sighed. "I truly wish I could believe that, Ev, but..... I can't see any way out and hope is dangerous 'round here." With these parting words, he fled up the steps to his spire top room.

"Ain't that tha truth, boyo."

*************

As Blink neared the top of the stairs, he felt his eyes finally begin to well up with the hot tears he'd been restraining since he saw the empty cache. He slammed the door to his sparse quarters behind him as he entered the drafty sty. It was atop the highest spire in the palace, bore no window panes in the large overlooking windows, and looked to have once been a torture chamber. There were even small piles of dust that faintly smelled suspiciously like different furs, fins, feathers, and scales. It was horribly cold at night, necessitating a thick rag just to not freeze to death each night. There were several feral rats throughout the walls and a few feral rooks that took roost in the beams. Blink didn't mind them so much, seeing how so long as he left a crust or two opposite where he slept, they left him alone. Despite all of these shortcomings, there were two distinct benefits Blink had discovered. The first was that the room was all his own, quite a luxury for staff in this place. The second, more important benefit was the view he found himself taking in once more. From the east facing window, a fur could see clear across the entire city of Rey, all the way to the Allerian desert that stretched into the lights of Berell. The southern window saw as far as the coast of Frankes and the lighthouse of Thunes. The best view, though, was to the west, overlooking the roof of the palace and the largest portion of the market and on to the Beacon at Prisa, the jewel of Frankes. Blink used to dream of going there and whisking his mother away with him, but then she had died and he had discovered there was no way for him to walk across almost half of the Allerian Desert and most of the Prisan Fields without dying along the way. He still liked looking out on it, though.

This was the view he had taken to that night, sitting in the moonlit sill of the western window. The light silhouetted him in a silver glow that set off his entire body. He was a Silver Fox by species, even had the characteristic onyx fur and silver pins, even had the signature fiery Amber eyes, but a mutation of some kind had also gifted him with blood red streaks that contoured with his muscles. It made it look as though someone had dripped blood so that it flowed down the curves of his body, even down the bridge of his nose. He was somewhat lithe, but with toned muscles from a lifetime of servitude. He was an average height and a little thin. He had pads designed to be swift and soundless, something he strives to be due to how different he was. Other than his fur coloring, he was one of maybe ten silvers in the entire country, most likely only one of three from Bretia, even by lineage, and the only one born a slave. The whole thing, plus his scars and sans culottes dress, gave him the appearance of a gypsy or a vagrant. Not too far off from what he was, but he hated how much it made people stare at him, so he learned how to become a blur amongst crowds. Wasn't hard, it even let him pick up some "loose" coins for his stash. They never noticed, his paws were too soft and too light.

That was over now, though, as far as he was concerned. No more stash. No more running. No more escape, unless something big came along. Now there was only this window to escape the hells inside. This view of the city, the roof, the shadow....

That's when he finally noticed the small shadow clambering in and out of windows with a pack. A Thief! 'It has to be!' he thought, 'He's gotta have a horse! This is my path out, I have to catch him!' No sooner had he thought this than he'd left his shirt and grabbed his escape pack and clambered down the side of the tower. This was his miracle, he couldn't lose this person. He sped down the spire, something he'd done many times before in search of the money to buy his freedom, landing on the roof without so much as a clink of the tiles. For a second, he lost the shadow, despair gripping him once more before it reemerged from the Duke's window and Blink ran for it. It was running for the edge, most likely taking its leave. He had to reach it before it left, he'd never get another chance. He pushed harder on each fall of his footpaws, reaching out with his right paw until.... He grabbed the shadow by the wrist and stopped. It yelped and whirled around to swipe at its attacker. Blink whirled it into a hug and covered it's muzzle with his hand, staring in its eyes as the small figure calmed.

"I don't care where you're going, please just take me with you," he whispered, removing his paw from the shorter fur's muzzle.

The being studied him for a bit before gesturing for him to follow. They clambered across the roof before sliding off onto a feral horse and riding away. Blink looked back once and laughed giddily, never to look at the city of Rey again. Suddenly, the smaller fur stopped the beast after the edge of town and turned to him, pulling the black mask from his own face and revealing himself to be a cream colored Fennec Fox. He studied Blink carefully before speaking for the first time.

"What's your name, guy?" His accent flowed with the tune of Blink's own kinsmen: the Bretons.

He blinked a few times before responding. "Blink Vesper, yourself?"

"Temmy Swift."

"Where to now, then, Temmy?"

"After the way you got the drop on me? I think you ought to meet Le Roi, Blink."

"Well let's be off, then, we'll talk more on the way."

"How old are you again?"

"Turned seventeen today, yourself?"

"Sixteen, and happy birthday!"

"You have no idea, Temmy, no idea."