Closed to Tobias Stalt
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Quiet days.

They were few and far between. Amari adored her Master. How could she not? The man-child had her wrapped around his finger. He was her world, literally and figuratively. What little freedoms she had been given were all false illusions, only granted to further root his clawed grasp into her psyche.

Still.

Even she needed a break from his tantrums and cold stares.


Amari struggled to keep up with him, and his orders. Some as inane as ‘make me breakfast’ others far more startling like ‘kill that child’ despite what they were, she found herself complying. Each and every damn time. Some of the orders hurt her. Not physically...not even emotionally or mentally. It reminded her of the day she first ‘let loose’ killing each and every man who defiled her. Those actions...it felt like they tore apart her very being.

What helped that feeling, funnily enough - was nature. The forest. The trees.

It’s why she sat there now. Amidst the forest that surrounded the sanctum. She rested against the trunk of a particularly large, old tree. She sat atop a pile of furs, wearing knee high fur-lined suede boots. Black cotton pants tucked neatly into her footware. Her top, or what little lace that composed her top - was nothing more than black, thin intricate lace in a weaving, creeping vine pattern. Clinging to the more delicate areas of her form. Most of this was covered by a large, deep emerald green crushed velvet cloak.

She lifted a lithe arm free of the cloak and stared at her skin. Once pristine, pale skin was marred by thin black cracks. She ran a thumb over them. They didn’t hurt, and there was no signs of any internal injuries. So why were these cracks appearing on her skin? They were becoming more and more prominent as time went on.

Then there was her eyes...Amari didn’t have access to a mirror often, but recently she caught sight of her reflection - and it unnerved her. How red shards pierced the golden filaments of her eyes, how they seeped into her whites.

“What is happening to me…?” She questioned herself as she leaned her head against the bark of the tree. Closing her eyes she focused on the gentle thrum of the tree. It’s life. It’s mana. It bought her comfort.