The Seventh Day: Rated M

[Mari]

Violence, mild gore

Amari waited in the dark till she could hear the steady sound of her Master’s chest rising and falling. Good she thought as she swung her feet around and pushed herself off the bed. She padded over to the revealing outfit he forced her to wear on the first day she was bought here. Amari initially hated it, but she’d be lying if she said if its intricate pattern hadn’t grown on her. Her fingers danced across the lace before gripping it, and pulling it over her form. Amari headed over to her Masters large mirror. Her form was hugged tightly in the undergarments. She gave an approving nod. “This’ll do.” She turned on her heel and very carefully, silently unlocked all the locks he had and headed into the blistering cold.

The snowfall had stilled, the stars above twinkled in the clear night sky, but Amari didn’t have time to take in the scenery. Her feet burned at the cold touch of the snow, but she pressed on. She had been dragged through this snow naked, she had been forced to sleep without heat, without warmth - she had forgone food, and safety, she had been picked at, pulled apart and brutally tortured. She had felt the cold air against her bleeding membrane. So something like this was nothing to her now.

Amari’s first destination was the mess hall. She entered - and saw a man leaned over the table. Snoring loudly amidst a pile of ale. Her nose wrinkled and she gave a shiver of disgust. Amari shook her head, finding her resolve. This man. She knew this man. He was the first of many to defile her. He had pressed himself into her ass, without her permission. Her eyes burned with loathing as she approached him. Picking up a discarded serrated bread knife as she passed. “Hey…” She slid next to him, soft fingers dancing across his facial features. “I need you…” she crooned, but no reply came. “Tch…” Her tone immediately switched from sweetened honeyed tones to a darkness that rivaled Lyes. “Out cold.” She hissed. Elbowing him down to the floor. He fell with a thud onto his back.

Amari calmly approached him, undid the buckle on his pants and in a grating motion, began to saw off his dick. The man quickly woke - screaming. With a quick jerk the red headed woman tore the remaining ligaments of his cock apart from the rest of his body, she jammed it into his throat silencing him. He tried to writhe and push her off him - but it was clear he was in too much pain.

“Wha’ts wrong…?” She asked, brushing the back of her hand across his face. “I’m simply returning the favour…” His screams died down into a gurgle as he began choking on his own blood. His struggles grew weaker. Amari dropped the serrated knife. Her eyes landed on a spoon beside the writhing thugs head, and her eyes lit up. “Oh?” She picked it up, and without hesitation she jammed it into each of his eye sockets, popping out his eyeballs. Blood splayed across her face, stained her delicate thighs and soaked her hands - but it didn’t stop her. She pulled his eyes clean from his head.

“One down.”

She picked up the spoon and wiped it on his clothes. Amari stood, taking the eyes, rolling them round and around in her hands. “Now, where to put these…” She muttered. Glancing around the empty room, she found a jar - it appeared to have some sort of pickle in it. She tipped the contents out and dumped the eyes into it.

“23 to go.”

She turned to leave the hall, in the doorway stood a single Raven. It tilted its head to the side, and cawed inquisitively at her, Amari ignored it. Stepping over the black feathered bird to her next target.

[Mari]

Amari returned to the mess hall, her right arm dripped in blood. Her breathing ragged. She approached the Jar, and dropped three more pairs of eyes into it. Watching them fall to the bottom with a sickening ‘schlick’

“20…” She breathed, watching as one eye stuck to the side of the jar, slowly sliding down the glass. Leaving a trail of blood in its wake. The scene made her heave. Amari turned her head and expelled the contents of her stomach onto the floor. Her body shook, her eyes burned, and her chest pounded. Her heart ached, as though her very soul was on fire. It was the very same feeling she had when she had ultimately taken her brothers life. Her eyes dimmed, then flashed, her usual yellow hues taking on tones of an angry red. Amari felt like she was going to lose consciousness as the very polarity of her soul began to shift.

An Ar’tuel wonder, giving her the gift of rebirth, and bringing renewed life and hope to those around her, now twisting, suffocating under the sins she had committed, under the duress of the weeks programming and torture. Her body heaved, shaking and it took all her strength not to lose consciousness right there and then. She gritted her teeth. She had been through worse.

“No…I’m not done yet…” she stood, and headed over toward the dead carcass of of the first man she killed. She stomped down on his chest, and pulled hard on his shirt, tearing material away. She cleaned herself off with it, and turned to leave again.

Amari continued like this throughout the night, returning every so often with a corpse, and another set of eyes. It had taken her hours, but she finally had done it.

24 Men had now sat before her in the mess hall. Lined up, 12 aside on the table. Each one positioned as though they were about to eat from the gruesome meal before them. Each dead thug sat before a small bowl, ever so gently cleaned and filled with blood, within that blood floated two eyeballs. “Meals fit for kings…” Amari mused, glancing over her ‘hard work’

Each one with their eyes removed, and their phallus hanging loosely from agape mouths. “This won’t do…” she muttered, grabbing the needle and thread she had procured from one of their rooms. “At least father had me learn stitching…” She mused to herself as she stitched each one of their eyes shut, following suit with their mouths.

Amari took another step back, her gaze falling on each of their twisted, deformed faces. “Better.” She turned her back on them.

“Next time, ask a woman before you defile her. Fucking scum…”

Amari left the mess hall, slamming the door behind her. She almost stepped on a group of Ravens. “What the-” Several of them now stood on the snow, beady black eyes watching her. Amari shooed them away before heading back to her own hut. The sky had lightened, and the thin hues of sunrise creaked over the horizon. Amari yawned. She still needed to bathe, and now she ran the risk of waking the silver haired assassin.

She stepped through the hole that was once the door to her abandoned cabin, the single roomed space she had grown accustomed to. The bath from nights before was still sat there, its waters as pristine as they were when Lye delivered the bath to her. No longer steaming warm, a thin layer of ice sat atop the untouched tub.

Amari stripped, and dipped herself into the frigid waters. She drew in a sharp breath. She may as well be rolling around in the snow outside. “Fuck…” she muttered, quickly grabbing the sponge and rubbing it up and down her skin.

The moonlight cast his shadow across the room and it slithered along the floor, up the wood of the wash basin, and crawled over her fair skin as she bathed.

“Busy night,” he stated plainly, now blocking the door with his frame.

Her thoughts were disrupted and Amari jumped.Her eyes rose, to come face to face with her captor, her benefactor, her torturer, and her mentor. Amari’s brows lowered, her bluish lips formed into a small grin, bearing shivering teeth.

“Yes, Master Lichensith Ulroké?” His name, his full name left her lips in a seething condescending tone. As if she were to hold it over him. How she had come to learn it? From one of the men who now sat dead, before a meal he’d never get the chance to consume.
“Did I do something wrong?” She asked in feigned innocence, turning her newly changed eyes back to her shivering body, wiping the blood off her other arm.

[Lye]

The moment Amari shifted from the bed, Lye slipped from his skin deep slumber. He remained motionless, eyes shut. The faint, but unmistakable rustle of bare feet against fur broke the dead silence of their stone hewn room. The rust of fabric and whisper of approval seeped into his ears just moments before she deftly slid free the locks and opened the iron door. Alone, door shut, and returned to silence, Lye’s eyes shot open in the darkness with a grin on his lips.

He left the bed and whistled faintly at the smouldering hearth. From it spat a dusty raven who landed in a haze of ash. He whispered to the bird and pointed toward his door to which it responded with two clicks of its beak. Then it was gone.

As the next few hours passed, one of the flock returned to him while he dressed. Their warbles and clicks relayed basic information.

‘Two killed.” one stated.

Moments later, another returned. ‘four dead’, it clicked.

Lye tightened the binds of his leather attire and clenched his teeth. Elthas’ wounds still had not healed, nor had they properly coagulated. Despite Amari’s strange power, they still throbbed, ached, and seeped.

After what seemed like hours, the final raven entered. It’s message was short and Lye received it with a wry grin.

‘Twenty three dead. Bath.’ With its message delivered, the bird shot up the exhaust of his hearth.

Lye rose from his seat on the bedside and opened the door to the main hall of his room.

He had no words for the scene before him. Like a page from the religious texts of the old gods, twenty three men sat lifeless in front of bowls filled with congealed blood. Two eyes bobbed in each of them, hazed over with death’s embrace. Sewn shut so they could not speak and sutured so they could not see, Lye paced past each of them. Like the hem of a dress, their flesh was laced with delicate precision.

His boots slipped in a puddle of blood that pooled beneath the chairs in which they sat and the faint rhythm of droplets fell from beneath them. He tilted his head to gain a better look at one of the mens’ faces and noticed an unsightly bulge in his throat. The assassin’s eyes trailed down the bloody stream from his mouth to an absence of manhood between bare legs.

Lye pulled away, distracted by the chilling waft of winter wind. The doors to the wilds remained open and dozens of black eyes stared patiently at him from feathered bodies. His ravens sat just outside Amari’s old cabin, starting back at him. His footsteps carried him like a ghost over the snow. Despite the wound in his side, bandage over his eye, and stump of a left arm, he arrived at her cabin without a sound. Inside, she bathed quietly in a tub of ice water. Each of her panted breaths erupted from chilled lips as a fog.

“Busy night,” he commented, startling her to a stand.

And then she spoke his name. Silence answered her. Then, a chuckle. Lye shook hung his head forward, sliver locks spilling over his shoulders. The chuckle grew into laughter then suddenly stopped.

“I see,” he hissed in the aroused tone of a maniac. His wild gaze rose to meet her exposed form. “Today is your naming day, Scarlet.”

[Mari]

She tilted her head, “Naming day? Why?” She went back to washing herself with steadily increasingly shaking hands. “I thought I was just p-p-pet.” The notion confused her, but she tried to keep her questions to a minimum.

“No,” he replied. “You’re more than just a pet. The frail noble, abused by her brother and hesitant to kill is dead. You are something else now. I’ve taken everything and given you everything. You are a new person. Strong. Fierce.”

He pointed toward the grand hall, and Amari followed his gesture with her gaze as he continued.

“Twenty three men in a night with no much as a cut on your body.” He held his hand out to her. “You’ve surpassed my expectations, Scarlet.”

She reached out to him with a shaking and and he clasped it. “Y-y-your men were mostly drunk and a- asleep. I’d focus on f-f-f-fixing that in future, all I did was take advantage of that.”

He pulled her from the bath and into his warm embrace. Amari drew in a sharp breath as the flood of warmth tickled at her skin.

“Surely they screamed as you lobbed off their cocks and carved out their eyes. You aren’t giving yourself the credit you deserve,” he whispered into her ear as she quivered. “Let’s get you inside.”

“They did… “ She whispered, “but they deserved it.” Amari pursed her lips ready to argue, instead she pressed her head into his chest and mumbled a sound of acceptance. “Yes. I’m F-freezing.” A part of her did want to argue with him, but she was too tired and cold to care.

He looked down and couldn’t help but notice black lines like cracks on her pale skin. With his brow raised, he ran a gloved hand over her shoulder and they did not wipe away.

“Another sigil?” he asked, unsure of what exactly they were. He shook his head. “We’ll talk indoors.”

“S-sigil? W-w-what?” she chattered, glancing to his hand.

Lye swept her up into his arms and carried her wet body through the snow, past the sinners’ last supper, and back into their quarters. He laid her gently into the bed and folded the furs over her blued skin. The white maned assassin pulled logs from a pile beside the hearth and set them atop smoldering embers. With a few light breaths, the embers heated and lit the logs aflame.

“So,” he began as he rose. “What are those markings? I don’t recall them and they don’t look like wounds.”

She glanced down at her shaking arms, her fingers danced over the cracks. Confused, Amari hadn’t seen them before. “I don't know. They don't hurt, they're faint, and I've never had something like this appear b-before.”

She looked up at him and that's when he noticed it, in the flickering light of the fire. Her eyes had changed. Lye breached the gap and took hold of of her chin between his thumb and forefinger, leaning down to inspect her eyes.

“Master?”

Verdant irises framed with a thin line of gold now held slits and shards of vibrant red throughout. At first, he thought she suffered some sort of internal injury or ruptured vein, but as her pupils contracted in the light, emerald and ruby contracted as if one in the same.

“What are you?” he spoke with voice thick with genuine intrigue.

A shaking hand rose to clasp his arm. “I am yours, Master.”

Her fingers felt like ice on his skin, jostling him from his curiousity. His hand opened and set her jaw free from his grip. Amari simply looked on confused. Wasn’t that the answer he wanted to hear? Her brow furrowed.

“But-” Her voice took on a stern tone, “That does not grant you the ability to fuck me over, Master Ulroke.”

Lye’s expression soured. “You seem to misunderstand what ‘master’ means.” He paused. “But I will not treat you poorly unless it is deserved…”

“I understand.” Amari mumbled, shifting her gaze away from him. “You have me, you have my gratitude and loyalty, don't misinterpret my words for insubordination.” Her hands snaked back under the covers as she rubbed them together in an attempt to warm herself. “What warrants poor treatment?” She asked turning her gaze back to him, “dismembering your men seems to not cause your ire. Why?”

[Lye]

“Were it not you,” he replied as he returned his attentions to the fire. “I would have killed the culprit on sight. To lose that many of our forces is nothing to laugh at.”

He pulled the wrought iron poker from its stand and prodded the flames into a roaring blaze.

“But all the hell you’ve been through has been to teach you cause and effect. Not just of your own actions, but others as well.”

He turned to her as the poker began to heat to a reddish glow.

“Those men wanted you at any cost and treated you like a hole, nothing more. They did not know what I know about you now, and as a result of their actions, they died. I cannot condemn you for doing what I’ve expected of you since the beginning.”

He grinned at her with a light chuckle and continued to prod the hearth.

“Amusing to think of your curse…” he drifted on. “For those men, it proved true. I suppose I should keep my wits about me, yes?”

Amari shifted off the bed and approached the fire, standing beside Lye, the lights of the flickering flames dancing on her face. “Perhaps.” She shifted to sit in front of the fire, extending her hands toward the warmth. “Your dick hasn't fallen off yet, has it?” She glanced up at him with a bemused smirk. “Be a shame if it did, eh?”

Her gaze shifted back to the fire and she seemed to falter on her next words. “Master, would you condemn me if I were to do it again? To anyone who dare try that, even if it were your highest ranked men? “ There was a pause. “I don't think I could stop myself, even if commanded.”

Unlike before, her presence in close proximity seemed not to bother him. His hands didn’t reach for a weapon, nor did his gaze watch her every move. Instead, he hung the iron rod and sat upon the floor.

“Shelter, food, water, warmth, and safety,” he spoke, watching the dancing flames. “You can now have it all so long as you take it.” He turned to her, gaze washing over her body. “If any man touches you that you do not will it, cleave his head from his shoulders. You do not need permission for that.”

“Good.” She said, “very good.” She repeated. There was another moment of silence, Amari pulled the fur from her shoulders and shifted so her bare back now faced the fire. She looked as though she was trying to find more words to say.

“Master, what now?”

The question had many answers, but the events of today already needed to be handled. It only was a matter of time before someone of the Hand noticed her crimes. Any moment, there would be a rap on his door and a call for blood.

“We’ll need to diffuse the colleagues of the men you slaughtered. For that, I may have to punish you no more than what you’ve grown accustomed to.” He breathed deeply. “After that, we will need to talk about your father.”

Lye expected her to argue her punishment, instead she shrugged. “Small price to pay to have heard their pain and witness their suffering. Maybe their colleges will learn not to fuck with me, literally.”

Her gaze shifted to him as he mentioned her father, “he deserves the same fate. He's a powerful noble within Salvar and owns a large portion of the region's farming lands. It would cause issues if he disappeared.”

“That’s the point,” Lye stated. “In the struggle for the estate, you will return to Knife’s Edge. You will be the sole inheritor and become duchess. You’ll have everything.”

Lye shifted to stand up and looked down at Amari. The warmth of her skin returned and the chill of winter seemed to melt away. Content, he moved toward one of his wardrobes in the far corner of his room.

“Proof of your brother’s death has already been sent to the guard’s quarters. Your father will be notified of it soon without any context to his disappearance. Given his obsession with you, they’ll likely assume he was killed while searching for you.”

As Lye spoke, he sifted through the hung clothes and pulled from the wardrobe a long, elegant dress. Each bit of lace and fall of fabric was dyed the most brilliant of red.

“I doubt father would care beyond the impact it would have on his social standing. He may have taken great pride in my brother but he's blinded by his obsession with wealth.”

Her eyes fell to the dress, “Who did that belong to?” She rose them to meet his emerald gaze, “women's clothes is not something I'd expect you to pull out of your personal wardrobe.”

Lye didn’t answer her until he stood beside her in the light of the flame. It’s warm glow seemed to light the dress ablaze. Strands glimmered unlike any fabric neither silk nor cotton.

“It was Isabelle’s.” The words left his mouth softly and slowly. He held out the dress to Amari. “My late wife’s -- see if it fits.”

[Mari]

Amari accepted it with careful hands, she put it on and pulled it over her form, it fit. Amari pulled her damp hair to the front. “Can you tell me about her? Your wife and child?” She had asked the question in earnest curiosity and her eyes held concern for his well being. Her hands reached out to dance over the leather details of his chest. It was an odd gesture, to give her such an item and Amari couldn’t help but feel there were hidden meanings behind his gesture.

His placid gaze stared holes into her fractured eyes. His lips remained sealed, but his mind drifted lazily to fogged memories of the past. With them, dredged the phantom pains of his torture and the face of Madison Freebird. With the briarheart, he spoke as a broken, fractured man with nothing left. With Amari…

“She was gentle, but fierce,” he began, turning away his eyes. “She was a runaway of nobility who wanted a life free from responsibility. We nearly killed each other when we met. Well, she nearly killed me.”

Lye shook his head.

“I don’t understand why, but she fell for me -- a lowly soldier of the Salvic army. I deserted the army to be with her. Slavic law would have had me kill her for she had strange abilities, much like yours.”

He stopped, as his eyes fell upon Amari in his late wife’s attire. Amari shifted uncomfortably, removing her eyes from his as she smoothed the wrinkles from the dress. Hearing his story tugged at her heart, it made her want to reach out toward him, to show him some form of comfort that he so clearly needed but refused to admit.

“Perhaps we should save this for another time,” he ended, walking toward the door of their quarters.

He stopped feeling a tug on his sleeve. “What?” He asked turning to look at Amari. She stared back at him, tears brimming the corner of her eyes. Amari broached the gap and took hold of his cheeks in her startlingly warm palms as she pressed her lips to his.

It was unlike their previous rendezvous, her touch was tender, soft lips tainted with the salty stain of her tears. It was difficult to imagine she had just slaughtered 23 of his men. Lye pulled away, confusion on his brow.

“Why?” The one world that managed to slip his lips.

“I felt like you needed that.” She said softly pulling away, allowing her fingers to pull through a curtain of his hair.

[Lye]

Her reply was unexpected. A brief moment of what seemed like pain washed over his expression. He shook it off and brushed away her hand.

“We need to clean up that mess before--”

“What in the literal fuck?!” shouted a familiar feminine voice outside their quarters. A tiny fist rapped ferociously against the iron door. “What. The. Fuck?!”

Amari didn’t question his look, nor why he brushed away her hand. She felt satisfied that she had been allowed to do just that. Whatever tender moment that had been shared between them was interrupted by the familiar shrill voice of Advencia.

“Before someone notices?” Amari finished. “If you’re going to throw me at her again,” Amari began, her tone turning bitter, “let me change, I’d rather not destroy this dress.” Her gaze shifted to the intricate dress that shimmered with the slightest of movement, her hands tenderly grazed over the material before her eyes met his once more.

“No,” Lye replied, his hand up to Amari before he opened the door to a frazzled and red cheeked succubus. Her slitted eyes shot directly to Amari. Her lips curled into a snarl.

“What are you doing letting her wear that?!” Advencia shouted with a pointed finger. Her demoness tail flicked wildly like a cat.

Amari wasn’t sure how to react to the outburst, nor did she understand the ire toward her, she remained silent as she shifted her weight to one side, and crossed her arms over her chest. Shattered emerald and crimson eyes staring at the succubus.


Lye’s palm found her face and he pushed the succubus out of the doorway and into the grand hall before her small hands pried herself free. Advencia planted a fist square in the middle of his chest to no effect.

“That’s none of your concern,” replied the assassin.

“What about this then?!” Advencia gestured to the table seated with lifeless corpses. Some of the men belonged to her personal drove of livestock.

This time, Amari interjected before Lye could respond. “That,” she began, “is penance. Each and every one of those men quite honestly got what they deserved.” Her voice held a muted anger as she gripped the sleeves of the dress to stop her own hands from shaking. Amari could feel an anger bubbling up from her core, heated and hostile, ebbed on by the pain she felt from her soul.

“I don’t think that’s your call to make!” Advencia shouted. She moved toward Amari, stopped by Lye’s arm.

“You’re out of line, Advencia. Scarlet acted as expected. Well, the display was a twist.”

“Scarlet? Who the-- you fucking named her?” The succubus threw up her hands and shook her head, prancing in place. Her golden curls bounced and swayed. “Great, just great. Here I thought she was some play thing and now you’ve gone and gotten attached.”

Advencia stopped, features pale.

“You didn’t fuck her, did you?” The tone of her voice dripped with anger yet her eyes begged for the correct answer. Lye remained silent and met the succubus’ gaze head on.

Watching the scene unfold, Amari began to paint a vivid picture in her head. The small angry woman was a succubus, that much she knew. Amari had first thought that her ire was a mixture of jealousy and misplaced hatred. But Amari knew that look, she knew the pleading forlorn feeling of unrequited emotions, heavy hearts, possible love. The redheaded woman didn’t appreciate being spoken about as though she weren’t there, but she found it difficult to remain angry at Advencia with her realisation. Amari cleared her throat and attempted to change the subject.

“If any of those men were yours - I will endeavor to replace them.”

The small framed blonde looked to Amari, then up to the stone slated face of Lye. Her chest rose and fell in deep breaths.

“You did, didn’t you..?” The blaze of anger fell to a dull ember. “Fine.”

Advencia stomped past the silent assassin and made for the grand doors. Her voice echoed in the large hall.

“Do what you want. I’m going to--” She stopped in mid-stride and paused. “I have a contract that needs to be killed.” Her stride resumed.

[Mari]

“Can I speak to you?” Amari asked, “Alone.” She instilled, glancing toward Lye who turned his gaze to her with a curious brow. Amari could hear it in Advencia’s dulled tone, she was angry, incredibly so, but hurt. Amari didn’t feel right, leaving things the way they were. It felt like some sort of twisted and congratulated story.

Advencia’s hand froze on the grand doors. The air stilled, leaving her thoughts a mystery.

“Why?” her voice carried quietly. Lye looked to Amari as if interested in the answer himself. He gestured openly to Advencia as if to carry on.

Amari drew a deep breath. Choosing her words carefully. The demoness would explode without hesitation if Amari worded herself incorrectly. “I think…” She paused as she trailed off, feeling a little out of her depth, Amari wasn’t good with words, especially when it came to emotions. “I think we need it.”

“We?” the succubus repeated, turning her head over her shoulders. Her hands fell from the door and she turned around in earnest. “Fine.”

“Interesting,” Lye mumbled under his breath. His tone then rose to an audible level. “I’ll leave you two be.”

“What in the hell is all that racket?” echoed another familiar voice from the Inner sanctum. Caellus’ sweat drenched locks poked from the door with confusion on his damp brow.

“Caellus, perfect.” Lye approached the younger man. “I have a task for you…”

The two men pushed through to the cavernous inner sanctum and the echoed thud of the door closing announced the girls’ isolation.

Amari felt a mixture of relief and unease as she was left alone with Advencia. The girl was difficult to deal with, but, Amari was no different. “I know that look.” Amari began, she continued as Advencia opened her mouth, disrupting whatever heated words the demoness had to say. “At first, I assumed your ire toward me was jealousy, anger that his attention was so focused on me, after all… I was nothing more than some discarded thing picked up off the streets. Was.” Amari repeated as she instilled her new position within the Crimson Hand. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but it’s more than that - isn’t it? You have feelings for him?” Amari questioned. She wasn’t sure if she’d get an answer, or even the truth, but she was curious to see where the line of questioning would lead. “It’s more than just physical, but you can’t exactly act on it, can you?” Her words were spoken with an air of sympathy, in a cautious and soft tone.


Advencia let her speak. All in the meanwhile, her thoughts spun turbulently in her mind. Her expressions danced somewhere between pain and anger. Her fists clenched and unclenched. When Amari fell silent, the succubus took a deep breath.

“Don’t act like you know me,” she stated with a waver. “Before… Before you, I was his most loyal. I stood by him even when the others wanted him dead. They threw him in prison for years! I had to listen to that. Every day!” Her angered steps brought her closer to Amari. “When they let him out, I remained loyal. Me. The handful of others who stayed were because of me!” Her head shook, voice rich with betrayal. “He wandered for months and then…” A bitter laugh slipped past her lips. “And then he brings you back like he suddenly found a purpose. You. And now… heh. Scarlet…”

Her voice trailed off.

The way Advencia spoke, the warbled tone, her lashing words. Amari wasn’t a genius but she knew she had hit the nail on the head,“You shouldn’t let someone like me challenge that. What makes you think that my arrival belittles your loyalty?” Amari said simply, her words sounding harsher than intended. “If anything, it’d instill it! If anything it shows how important YOU are to him. You know him far better than I, so you’d know if he didn’t value you - you’d be gone.” Amari stepped forward and gripped Advencia’s shoulders. “You said it yourself, YOU are the reason the Crimson Hand exists, not me, not even him.YOU. Honestly…”

Amari lowered her head, pressing her forehead to Advencia’s, knowing it was dangerous to have skin to skin contact with the succubus, Amari had no clue what effect it’d have on her soul. Ignoring that, the girl was a tiny ball of fury and any false move would lead to a deft knife in the side of her throat.

“Stop belittling yourself. I think you mean more to him than you know, Advencia.”

“I-- Y-You…” She stammered. The girl’s touch burned like fire but soothed. Instead of by knife, Advencia pushed Amari away gently. “Just… just don’t hurt him. He’s… he’s been through enough.”

The demoness’ eyes crested with shimmering tears. Her chest rose and fell. If anything, confusion enveloped her body language.


“I don’t want animosity between us.” Amari’s words were barely above a whisper as she broached the gap between them and wrapped her arms around the woman, forcing Advencia into an embrace. “Not just for his sake, but for ours, and for yours.” Amari lifted one hand to gently run through the demonesses golden locks. She wasn’t afraid of the contact, unlike Advencia Amari felt no negative side effects. Amari wondered if it had something to do with her theoretically immortal soul, or if the contact wasn’t enough for Advencia to drain her. “I don’t plan on hurting him. I want to help him, and frankly - I’d need your help for that.” She shifted her head, her breath tickling Advencia’s neck. “Hell, even if it results in you attacking me later.”

The succubus fell victim to Amari’s embrace. She didn’t resist. Instead, she reciprocated with a brief hesitation. She remained quiet, lost in the conflict which raged internally. She wanted to hate Amari, to take what she had. She wanted to lash out, but found herself disabled as if by some soothing aura. After a deep breath, she raised her head from Amari’s chest.

“Okay,” it was the only word she could pull from the swirling miasma of emotions deep inside. The demoness raised her hand and brushed pointed nails along the underside of Amari’s jaw. A sadness welled in her eyes, but the fire had completely been snuffed. For now.

Amari wasn’t sure how she felt, she didn’t entirely feel satisfied with the outcome, even though it was a favourable one. She visibly shivered at the strange sensations that erupted from Advencia’s clawed touch, and Amari had to remind herself it was no doubt some form of succubus magic. Amari shook her head in an attempt to clear it. “Right.” She said. Amari looked over Advencia and decided that part of the unease she felt was the demonesses subdued state. Amari bit her lip, wondering how to ignite it. She considered slapping the girl, but that’d destroy any sort of reconciliation the two had.

“The hell did that fire go?” Amari asked indignantly. She watched as Advencia’s brow furrowed, her tiny chest rose as though she were ready to pummel Amari with heated words, before she could respond however Amari grabbed the underside of Advencia’s jaw and pressed their lips together. It only lasted a moment before Amari pulled away, taking a step back.

“Don’t you have a contract to kill?” She asked. Amari figured a succubus drew energy from sexual actions, rather than just skin to skin contact, and the prickle and static of energy Amari felt only made her assume that she had been correct.

Advencia’s face flustered with rosy hues and an expression of shock. She blinked away the disbelief as the silence of her thoughts opened back up. Her chest rose and fell, threatening to spill from its bodice. The short blonde felt invigorated, but confused as to why. One kiss, and she felt as though she had just feasted from a spry young man. Advencia put a finger to her lips before looking up to Amari. Her brows pressed together.

“I should stab you for that,” Advencia returned, a reminiscent heat in her voice.

“Go ahead, just wait till I’m wearing something different.” Amari said with a smirk.

The succubus rose a finger and hung on her words before shaking the thought. “You owe me two men,” she spat. Then she spun abruptly on her heels toward the exit. “And for the record…” She turned back mid-stride. “I hate you.”

Then, Advencia parted the doors and left before hearing Amari’s retort, “I’d be worried if you didn’t.” Amari felt better now, having somewhat smoothed over things with Advencia. Now that she was left alone Amari kicked at the dusty ground with her booted foot. “Two men, shouldn’t be that hard.” She mused to herself.

Amari wrinkled her nose and glanced up at the macabre scene that she had created. The men sat dead and stiff around the table, rigor mortis setting in. It began to stink. “The hell was I thinking?” Amari asked.

[Lye]

The groan of wood echoed in the hallowed chamber as Lye and Caellus emerged. The chime of chains played a somber tune in Caellus’ arms, more than most men could comfortably carry.

“You done?” Lye asked Amari. His subordinate moved over to the first of the dead men and wrenched his rigid corpse from its bloodied seat to the floor.

“Yes.” Amari said, turning toward him. “Thanks for that.” She added. Amari turned back to Caellus as he hefted the second corpse from its seat. Amari felt a tad guilty watching the man deal with her handiwork. “I uh...sorry for the inconvenience.”

The brunette chuckled as he slammed a chained hook into the ribcage of a third man. “I’m just glad I missed this meeting.” He wrenched the man to the ground and planted another hook in the fourth. “Thankfully, you’re too old for my tastes.”

“I have to replace two of Advencia’s men, perhaps she’s more suited to your tastes?” Amari quipped as she approached Lye, choosing to stand by his side.

“She’s at least a century,” Caellus responded with a grunt as he continued.

“Let’s not get into the details, Caellus,” Lye added. While useful, the retainer had preferences that unsettled even the other ruffians within the Crimson Hand. Were it not for his deceiving strength and knowledge of manipulative talismans, Caellus would surely have been drawn and quartered.

Lye walked up to Amari, and noticed the faint red of Advencia’s lipstick. His brow raised in curiosity and a grin.

“So, I see you didn’t kill each other,” he mused. “Perhaps quite the opposite?”

“Huh?” Amari blinked, seeing his expression. Amari rose her fingers to her lips and wiped the lipstick off, staring at her own fingers. “Oh. Not exactly.” Amari admitted. “She’s a succubus, after all.” Amari quipped, “Who knows what happened? Course, you’d have to ask her for clarification. I can assure you it was nothing more than a light kiss, however.” It was clear Amari wasn’t going to divulge details on what was discussed between the two.


“I’d rather not,” Lye added. “She’s an unhealthy obsession. I’m well aware of her fragile state of mind, but…” Lye’s gloved hand ran a finger along Amari’s collar bone. “It will be interesting to see you two interact with one another, I think.”

As they spoke Caeullus planted the last of the hooks into the 23rd man. With three bodies propped upon one shoulder and a firm grasp on the twenty chained together, Caellus grunted as the corpses slid along the floor. Chairs and bowls of congealed blood toppled and fell to the ground.

Amari groaned and shied away from the blood, taking a step back, not wanting to stain the dress. “I can’t decide if that statement is fueled by curiosity, perversion or bloodlust, Master.” Amari responded, a hint of amusement in her voice as she glanced up at him. “Next time, perhaps.” In response to his touch she absently picked up a strand of his hair and began twirling it in her fingers. “Your will permitting, of course.”

“Of course,” he repeated wryly. A blast of frigid air swept up Lye’s platinum falls of hair as Caellus kicked the grand doors wide open. As he continued out into the snow, the bodies left a wake of crimson. Those who were just waking, peeked from their barracks with awe on their faces. Some looked upon the sight in anger.

“Are you ready?” Lye asked as he turned to Amari.

“Yeh. I suppose so.” Amari shrugged, letting go of his hair. “If I wasn’t I’m sure you’d be disappointed, and throw me out there anyway, no?” She was beginning to grow more confident with her snide comments. Still as she turned to look at him, Lye knew he had her loyalty.

His lips turned into a crooked smile before he nodded. Then, with a clutch of his hand, immense pressure enveloped and possessed the entirety of Amari’s body. Her body lifted and her feet left the floor. Hissing wisps of black smoke steamed off her body and as he walked forward into the cold, her body remained suspended in front of him.

“Here is your culprit!” Lye roared to sleep laden eyes. “This one woman!”

Tenants of the barracks emerged one by one. Voices grew from a whisper to a cacophony as the chime of chains dragged the horrific display through the Seventh Sanctum.

“To think that over twenty men could fall to such a thing and none of you could stop her.” Lye’s grip tightened and subsequently squeezed Amari ferociously.

Amari’s body trembled from the sheer force that enveloped her body, her chest quickly rose and fell in sharp successions as she struggled to breath. Movement was difficult, but not impossible, her trembling hands had clenched into fists and her eyes stared at the oncomers with an intense ferocity.

“Each of the men slain chose to defile her her first day here. For that action, the result was death. Not by me, but her.” Lye continued.

“Kill that bitch!” one roared.

“Fucking cunt!” another added.

“Good for her!” a feminine assassin contributed.

“She will not go unpunished for her own actions.” Lye growled. “But your own inability to stop her is on your hands. As I will remind this faction over again, for every cause, there is an effect. Let it be known that this one is not to be trifled with!”

The roars of anger and distrust whipped into a frenzy.

“She will live.” Lye shouted above their cries. “And she will remain my personal charge! She has demonstrated more skill than the half of you!”

Their protest dulled, but faces still soured.

“If you would like to try her yourself, that opportunity will come. But, remember what you saw here, today and weigh yourself against it!”

Lye’s shadowy grasp lowered Amari to the icy tundra and the weight of his dark magic left her.

“Remove the dress,” he ordered.

Amari was gasping for air, she shot him a glare. This time, she was wearing the intricate undergarments beneath, so would not go fully naked. “Why?” She questioned, not ready to strip in front of a crowd of men and women who seemed divided on wether they hated, feared or admired her.

His lip furrowed and a fist crashed across her face. The onlookers again cheered.

“Remove it,” he repeated. While he wore ferocity on his face, his eyes spoke differently.

Amari spat out a glob of blood and wiped her mouth before standing and turning her back to him, wriggling out of the dress. She went one step further and took the time and care to neatly fold it and place it in the snow beside his feet. “Happy?” She hissed. There was another roar from the crowd of onlookers, Amari turned to them. “Oh SHUT it!” She snapped.

Lye breathed deeply and relentlessly, he began to assault Amari in the opening. His fists plummeted into her back, gut, again across the face. The roar of onlookers wanting blood sang on as grim sonnet to the brutality. Amari tried to feebly shield herself, screaming insults at him and at the crowd till her jaw became too swollen to talk. She flailed and threw her own punch aimed at his wound, followed by a kick. Lye continued till she finally lost consciousness.

The crowd, satiated with the display, dwindled to a murmur. Hot clouds of breath spewed from Lye’s jaw, his one good hand throbbed. By now, Caellus’ task was complete, and each of the corpses were cast into the forest where the Dark Crawlers could feast. Bloodied and draped in chains, he approached the two.

“A little too far, don’t you think?” asked the retainer.

“She’s tougher than she looks,” Lye spat. He kneeled to the snow and plucked up Isabelle’s dress. “Grab her, will you?”

Caellus nodded and lifted Amari from the snow by the neck. As if she weighed no more than a towel, he threw her over his shoulder amidst the bloodied chains. Together, the two disappeared behind the grand hall’s doors.

“Throw her in my room and get some of the slaves to clean the rest of this mess,” Lye ordered. Caellus obliged.

[Mari]

Hours passed, and it was well past nightfall before Amari finally regained consciousness. She groaned as she realised she could barely lift her head, her vision was blurred and it was difficult to swallow. She rolled over onto her side trying to piece together what happened. Her head swam, and it was difficult to focus on any one thought for long. She vaguely recalled being dragged into the snow then….then...the pain of...her brows furrowed.

“Dab...Assh…: She muttered.

“Evening,” Lye greeted as he dabbed her split forehead with damp cotton. He sat beside her in the warm glow of the hearth. Isabelle’s dress sat just out of the fire’s reach ablaze in orange light. The furs covered Amari, hiding the bandages tightly wound about her ribs and various injuries.

Amari wasn’t entirely happy to see him. She winced as he continued his delicate ministrations. “Dib ju hab du go dab far?” She asked, struggling to speak with an injured and swollen jaw. Amari tried to lift her head but the world around her swam and she felt as though she were going to vomit. Amari groaned as she let her head fall back to the pillow. “Cab...moob.”

“Would they have believed me if I didn’t go this far?” he asked. He put the ointment aside in the large wooden bowl beside her. Various bandages tinged red dangled from it. “I can’t heal you this time. I’m sure you understand.”

Amari shot Lye a glare at his words. She understood, sure. He wanted to keep up appearances. It didn’t help her predicament. She shut her eyes and gingerly rolled onto her back. “Teb I day here for ab while.” She muttered as she lifted an arm to lightly prod at her swollen jaw. She winced and let her arm fall ontop of the furs, gripping them tightly. “I dob like dis.” She mumbled.

“I know.” Lye place his hand over hers in a vain attempt at awkward comfort. “When you’ve healed, there will likely be some that want a piece of you themselves. I will need to train you how to fight. Until then, you need to rest. I should have you in the cells below, but I have them guarded off under the rouse of keeping you alive. You’ll need to stay here.”

His words and actions did little to comfort her, if Amari were in a more aware state she’d have appreciated them but she barely had the focus to stay conscious, let alone pick up on the subtle nuances of his mannerisms. “Why not de celsh? Why bo drough so much to beep up aberranbes?” she said with bitterness. Amari slowly opened and closed her eyes. “I….dob unberband you.” Her words became dulled and slowed, Amari could feel herself slipping out of consciousness and was fighting to stay awake.

“Why?”

“In part, because they would likely try to kill you still. I haven’t placated all of them with that display, just most. And the longer you’re in conflict with them, the harder it will be to get you into position as duchess.” He rose from her bedside to throw another log into the hearth. “On the other hand, I have yet to earn most of their respect. Letting you act freely without consequence would only serve to complicate my position. Now that you are ready, many things will change here.”

“Mmm...:” Amari struggled to focus and hear his words, the slow drole of his emotionless velvet voice hummed beneath what sounded like waves lapping at a shore as the blood pulsed in her head. “Wiboud dose circumshances - woob I be in der cellsh? Ib my combany dat bad?” She shifted her head toward him, staring at him with clouded, lazy eyes. “Heal my jaw ab leasb?”

Lye hesitated to reply. “It’s not that.” He heard her request and moved to his workbench. “Good company alone wouldn’t afford you special treatment. You are…” Lye froze as he worked on an herbal remedy. “Important.”

He continued working until a few verses of faint latin and soft light glowed from his desk. He turned about with a small vial in hand.

“I’ve grown to enjoy your company,” he stated as he sat beside her and lightly dabbed the salve on her swollen jaw. “If that’s what you’re asking.”

Amari winced as the ointment burned, it felt as though her very flesh and bones were on fire. Amari drew in a sharp breath and grit her teeth, as quickly as the pain had flickered up, it had died down, and her jawline had healed.

“Thank you.” Amari said, speaking much more clearly but the dulled sleepy tone still weighed heavily on her words. Amari rolled her body into him, her hand draped over his legs. “I’m...important for your goals right?” She asked as she slowly opened and closed her eyes, not fully aware of her surroundings. “To...gain influence over the entirety...of...Salvar…” Her words began to slow, “That’s...ok. Besides… I enjoy your warmth.” She murmured as she balled her hand into a fist, clasping onto the material of his trousers. “You’re - good to be around when you’re like this, Lye….” She mumbled sleepily.


He remained silent in reply. The nature of her inquiry called to question the depth of its truth, something the hardened killer struggled to grasp. She was a tool, one to help finally bring about change and power to the Crimson Hand. Was she? Just a tool?

He set down the empty vial beside the bed and brushed rogue strands of red from her pale complexion. His brows remained scrunched in contemplation.

“Rest,” he said softly. “Your body needs it.”

Amari was barely conscious, barely aware of the words she was mumbling. The onset of her concussive state causing her mind to wander and her memory to falter. “Mmm…hmmm…” She opened her eyes once more and lifted a heavy arm to gently prod into the corner of his mouth. “You.” She stated with a dreary firmness. “I’ll make you smile. That will be my … revenge… mighty Master Ulroke. Smiling.” Amari managed a tired laugh as her hand fell back down to his lap with a ‘thwump’ “Your body...needs ...it.” Those were the last words the woman spoke before slipping into unconsciousness.

“I hope for your sake, you don’t.” He murmured quietly. “Or you will truly be damned.”