The Third Day (Mature 18+)

[Lye]

The dawn greeted him in the form of a winged bird. One of the ravens perched on the oaken frame of his large bed and clicked repeatedly to wake him. Lye’s eyes opened to a cocked feathered head and a caw of acknowledgement. Days were shorter this far north of the continent, but that meant little to someone whose quarters didn’t permit any open windows. Framed by four walls of the mountain’s stone, Lye’s chambers provided adequate protection from the unsavory types seeking ill intent in the night.

He flung the myriad of animal furs off his nude frame and rose from his bed with a crack of his neck side to side. The chill of eternal winter seeped beneath the door and through the vent of his hearth as smoldering ash failed to produce adequate warmth. The assassin began his daily routine with a wash in his carved stone basin. He dried, dressed, and slid the several wrought iron bars upon his door free from their braces. He carried to the entrance of his longhouse and swung double doors wide to the stagnant chill of Salvar. Today, the wind slept, clouds hid, and only the quiet of clear blue skies greeted the assassin. It was a quiet day, and likely a quiet night.

The night prior, held stark contrast to today. His new charge and personal project, Amari, was subject to the twisted methods of Aurelianus Drak’shal. Her voice rang out in shrill screams as he flayed the skin from her body and pressed his hand through her innards like they were made of clay. He twisted her flesh, forced his abomination, Junior, upon her, and manipulated her senses in ways only Lye himself could understand. The demon had his way with her until she could no longer will to live. In her death, Lye felt an anger. Unlike his primal, bestial rage he had come to embrace, this one harkened back to memories trapped and isolated in the past. He felt them before, but could not remember when or why. Moments before he readied to carve his loss from the tiefling’s body, Aurelianus somehow brought her back to the land of the living. His fleshcraft pieced her broken body together just as before if not better. That night, Lye gifted his project with a bed thick with furs and let her whimper in solitude as she drifted off into sleep.

He waded through the groove in the snow from his habitual trip toward Amari’s hut. Behind him, Lye dragged a large trunk, heavy with its unknown contents and the several wood logs lashed to its top. Arriving at his destination, Lye removed the lock from the outside and willed his command over the shadows to release the deadbolt from within. The door crept open with a groan and soft light poured upon the body that lay beneath a mound of furs. The bath basin to the corner looked untouched, a thin layer of ice atop the water’s surface. With heavy boots upon the creaky wooden floor, Lye walked beside his pet’s bed.

“Good morning,” he greeted in a low, rolling voice.

Amari shifted, her body moving slowly. Still pained from the night before. She lifted her head only slightly from the pillow. Her voice cracked, hoarse from a night of screaming. “Good? I can barely move. My body’s heavy. There is a dull ache all over.” She paused, interrupting with a weak sour laugh. “It almost feels good.” Her words were bitter. “‘Course...that’s what you wanted, isn’t it, Master Sta-” She cleared her throat. “Master.”

“Yes and no,” he replied whimsically. “I didn’t expect you to die on me.”

The assassin leaned inward to her ear as she buried her face into the pillow.

“That wasn’t even a full day,” he whispered. “He did that to me for a year.”

Lye stood, and made way for the door, eyes set on the trunk.

“A whole year…”

His gloved hand clutched the handles beside the trunk and he hefted it indoors with a grunt. The wrought iron bindings that held the corners scraped against the old wood, leaving splintered trails of dirt and snow behind. He let it fall in place with a thud and shut the door behind him, locking it shut. From his white fur robes, he produced a six inch steel spike and rammed it between the door and frame. Groans and creaks came from the door as the enchanted metal stretched its metallic roots outward to seal the door shut more permanently.

“What have you learned?” he asked, shrugging off his furs and drawing one of his knives.

He worked the bindings free from the logs atop the trunk, and they clattered to the ground. He pushed the remainders free from the top and opened the lid, keeping its contents from Amari’s view. From it, he pulled a bundle of waxed jute and a striking flint. With expression calm and flat as slate, he grabbed an armful of firewood and began to arrange the hearth for a flame.

[Mari]

“Oh?” Amari asked, her head still nestled between the down pillows. She felt bitter toward him after all he had done. “And what of me now? Would death have not been befitting? Least I don’t have to see that stupid smirk.” Her words were spiteful- the silver haired beast was still the one who put her into Aurelianus’ hands yesterday. All too willingly watching her with interest, ignoring her pleas for help and death. She had began to wonder if the potion he was going to give her really would have killed her, or just did some sort of other twisted thing to her bruised and battered body. “Devious devil…” She muttered under her breath. She’d had enough, she struggled to concentrate, she just wanted to rest. To try and rid herself of the the heavy and sedated feeling that clouded her thoughts. Aure was right, she felt anemic, lethargic.

Amari felt Lye lean closer; she could smell the faint aroma of copper and thick incense, his heated breath left shivers upon her bare neck. Amari stiffened, she didn’t know how to feel with him so close to her, it had nearly always ended in pain, in his anger. In this instance, it was only whispers. He admitted that Aurelianus had done the same to him, not just for a day. Not a week, but a year. “What?” She lifted her head watching as he walked away. She wasn’t sure how to read the tone in his voice, or why he had chosen to tell her anything about himself. Amari had just assumed that he and Aurelianus were business partners. A year… She thought to herself. How could one man endure such atrocities? How was he still standing? Still sane. Ok, well, maybe not sane. A small frown playing across her cracked lips as she recalled all the scars and sutures across his body. Aurelianus must have done all of it. Her emerald eyes glanced down to her own, flawless skin. He had put her back together with such pained precision. Was that because he wouldn’t allow Aurelianus to scar me? The woman pulled her hands out from under the thick fur covers, and clenched her fists. Beyond the aching dull sensation, she felt more or less alright, but that was barely a day. Just how would she have been after a year? Would Aurelianus have kept bringing her back to life, would he have made her into some sort of abomination? Would she be just as cold and merciless as the man who stood before her now?

Recently...Amari’s perception of things had changed drastically. How people worked, how the world was cruel and unkind. How the only ties you make are to those who are of use to you. So...what did that make her? Why was this man investing so much time and energy into her? Amari thought back to what Aurelianus had told her. The sigils placed on her by her brother...the one she was born with. Her strong soul being the reason why her eyes held their odd colour, and it was how she was brought back to life, that she could be brought back to life day after day. Her life akin to nothing more than a candlewick.

Her thoughts were interrupted with the aching creak from the door. Her eyes snapped toward it, watching as the iron barred both her and Lye inside. “We’re not...going anywhere today?” She asked. Admittedly confused. The last two days he had pulled her from her so called ‘sanctuary’ and submitted her to immense psychological and physical duress. Her eyes landed on the trunk and her stomach churned. great, so he’s bringing it to me today. Whatever was in that chest, Amari knew she would not like it. Still, it was only the two of them. No Aurelianus, no gang of disgusting men, and no creepy ass Junior. Small parts of her bubbled up, insatiably curious, and almost excited at the prospect of what was in the box, she shook her head. Trying to disperse such emotion.

“And what have we learned?” Lye asked, his back to her.

Amari shifted, pulling the furs over her naked form. She slid off the bed, wincing as she placed weight on her right foot. Amari repeated the question thoughtfully. “What...have I learned…” She took a few steps toward him, pausing. “That Aurelianus is a sadistic fuck, can see how you two get along.” Her words were slow, calculated. She spoke without fear - for what could he possibly do to her, that had not been done already? She continued to approach him. “That you, are unconditionally the cruelest man I know.” She paused, just a foot away from him, before resting her forehead on the mid of his back. She gave a heavy sigh, closing her eyes, her voice shifting to an unusually sympathetic tone. “But dealing with that for a year? I don’t think I can fault you for how you behave.” Another pause as she opened her eyes, lifting a hand to lightly trace the location of one of his scars. Her finger sliding across his armour. “I’ve learned that I want to drop-kick that festering monster junior into a fire…” She smirked, “Hell, I’ll do it again, just for you.” She added with a sour laugh. Lye’s distaste for Junior had not gone unnoticed by the woman.

Her voice shifted, lowering as she continued to answer his question. She wrapped the furs tighter around her shivering form. It was a struggle to get the words out, to admit them to herself more so than to him. Amari didn’t see the point in hiding anything from the man - he’d pry it out of her one way or another. “I’ve learned that such pain almost gives me a pleasure I can’t describe.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “It scares me.”

She pulled her head off of his back, choosing to sit on the floor in front of the hearth beside him. “ Although...What I haven’t learned... Is why me? I still don’t understand that. Why not pick some other waif up off the streets? What’s your end-game? You say you want to take everything, but what then? Even I see the amount of effort you’re putting into….” She glanced over to him, her emerald-orange eyes studying him. “Well...me.” Her questions were pointed, but weren’t as aggressive as they were on Day 1. Her tone and stance was curious rather than angry, despite his treatment of her - there was no malicious intent radiating from the red headed woman. She still held her venomous tongue, where due - and her fiery disposition still burnt strong, it was just, at this current stage, contained.

[Lye]

His hands struck the flint against stone, spewing sparks upon the frayed jute. It caught with an ember and puff of smoke as Lye fanned it to a flame. He laid the logs around the small flame so they could catch along the edge, but not smother the fire before it started. He felt her touch on his leather carapace, and his skin prickled. A broken man or woman existed in a fluid state of mind, any action could turn violent. He tolerated her touch, but his mind never drifted from the few seconds necessary to put her in a shallow grave.

“That year of torture wasn’t very long ago,” he replied as she lifted her head from his back. “Months perhaps.”

As she walked from him, he rose and began collecting the remainder of the firewood.

“I was a far more cruel man before then.” He spoke without emotion on his face as he recalled memories as if through a thick fog. “I killed daily. Women, children, my own men…”

He grinned as he placed the last of the logs in the pile of his arms and walked toward the hearth. The flames began to crawl along the logs and heat started to sink into the room. He dumped the firewood beside the fireplace and arranged them neatly in a pyramid as he continued. The meticulous nature of their arrangement akin to the detail and thought he remembered putting into each strike of his blades through innocent victims.

“A year broke me as I am going to break you. What I learned, you will learn.”

Neatly piled, he journeyed back over to the massive trunk. He knelt, and from its creaking hinges he produced a wrought iron basket attached to a long rod. Within the basket were tightly packed black stones. In his other hand, he held an iron poker and shut the trunk once more. He traveled back to the flame and propped the basket so the adolescent flames licked at the bottom. With the poker, he moved the logs to a position more condoning of air flow so it could grow into a healthy blaze. Instead of setting it aside when done, he left its hooked tip suspended in fire.

“As for why…” He stood, meeting his eyes with hers. He struggled to answer the question. Before her, he wandered the frozen wastes like an animated corpse. He lacked purpose, drive, and life. In an effort to find something, anything that kindled the hollow soul within, he wanted to kill. She happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, but instead of her blood in the snow, he found fire. Amari spoke to him without fear yet clearly aware of her own inferiority. She reminded him of a long lost past and a man with a far gentler face. Much like the city that left her in her homeless state, that man was also betrayed by those sworn to protect him. That memory triggered a thought. He wanted more than her life and by meeting her, he realized what his torture taught him.

Death is only a release. Life is a far worse state of being. Especially when bound by the laws of man.

“Call it misfortune,” he summarized. Then after a brief pause and slight grin. “Or fortune, depending on how much you’ve learned thus far.”

Leaving his instruments to warm, Lye returned to the trunk and this time, he pulled from it a wicker basket and corked flask.

“It’s been more than two days without food or water,” he stated as he rose. The trunk slammed shut and he walked to Amari.

“Here.” He set the basket and flask upon the bed. As he pulled the thick cotton fabric from the contents within, bread, fresh fruit, and dried meat sat in abundance.

“Eat something.” He sat upon the bed, watching as the fire now roared into its adulthood. Heat spewed from the mouth of the hearth and their foggy breath became no longer visible. The assassin pulled a split loaf of bread and broke it with glove hands. Without waiting for her, he bit off a piece and chewed if not for his own hunger, to prove a lack of poison or drugs.

“I wanted to break you and open your eyes,” he continued, taking moments between words to bite more from the loaf. “Then, I saw you had a gift.”

“Were it not for that, and your personality, you’d likely be one of Aurelianus’ assets.”

He reached into one of the pouches at his hips and pulled his own tin flask from them. With one hand, he uncapped it and drew a swig of plain water to wash down his palette.

“Fortunately, I see potential beyond that. You’re learning faster than expected. Already killed a man and find the thrill of pain…”

His eyes once again met hers and narrowed. Instead of sinister intent, they looked at her with curiosity, promise, and a slight hidden yearning.

“I’m still going to take everything from you, but instead of leaving you with nothing, I will take you as mine…”

He broke eye contact and waited for her to join him, or retaliate. Not only had he presented her with food and water, but weapons as well. A heated bludgeon or piercing implement, she could certainly dole some revenge should she choose.

“In what capacity… that’s still up to you to decide.”

[Mari]

Lye spoke of how his torturous year was only months ago. Amari found it a little difficult to believe. Right now, he seemed eerily calm. She knew that weren’t the case, that he had tremendous anger issues. His calm exterior snapping the instant things didn’t go his way. He was like a hurt child, really. She recalled the time he had her pinned against the wall by her throat. Her hand reached up to it, fingers dancing along her trachea absent mindedly. Her bi coloured eyes watched as he worked. Her head tilting to one side then the other till she felt a small pop.

As Lye worked, the room began to warm. Amari allowed her feet to stick out of the blanket, closer to the fire. She drew in a deep breath satisfied as the warmth began to course through her body.

“So he stopped you then.” Amari commented, staring at his blank face with one of her own, his ghastly past would normally have rattled Amari. She’d have gone into a heated rage, lecturing him on the importance of life, and how precious it was. How he wasn’t human, but - she didn’t feel like that now. She didn’t feel like saying those things, nor did she feel that distressed from the news. “Put you in your place.” She pressed a finger to her own collar, tapping it with a lopsided grin, insinuating that Lye’s time with Aurelianus was in essence, a psychological collar. “So to speak.”

As Lye mentioned he was going to inflict the same torture onto her, to teach her what he knew, Amari flinched, then laughed. She knew it was too good to be true, that any semblance of reprise were to be short lived. Still, it almost excited her - seeing what on earth would come next. “Oh? I’m touched, Master teaching lil’ ol’ me.” She placed a hand over her heart, and feigned a swoon. “My how my heart flutters.” It wasn’t a total lie. She pressed her hand tighter to her chest, and felt that her heart rate had increased. Her smile faltered. Not knowing how to react.

Her eyes glanced to the poker resting in the fire, she wasn’t stupid. She knew exactly what he was planning to do with it. Her eyes narrowed as she looked upon it distastefully, but she didn’t say anything. If he wanted to prod at her and sear her flesh he could, compared to yesterday, it’d have been a welcomed change.

There was a long pause, between her series of questions and an answer, Amari shrugged. “Perhaps it’s a bit of both, no?” She asked, turning her attention back to the fire, watching the metal of the poker glow from a warm orange to white.

Her eyes didn’t leave the fire, even as she heard him shift behind her- stating that she hadn’t eaten, or drunk anything for two days. Save for the vile taste of blood and cum. “Tch.” She had gone longer without food before, back in the slums there were times she’d almost starve. Her memory of those days were foggy. As though she were just going through the motions of living, rather than actually being alive.

The man ordered her to eat, Amari turned her head over her shoulder to glance at him. He sat upon her bed with a basket of promising looking food. Her stomach growled at the sight. “A gift?” She muttered dryly. “Dying, feeling death’s cold icy hands grip and tear at your soul, only to wake once again in the mortal realm? Rebirth? I wouldn’t exactly call it a gift.” She shrugged, turning and pushing herself up. Allowing the thick furs to fall off her shoulders. She was naked, but the time for embarrassment, or chastity was well and truly gone. He had not only seen her nude, but skinless. He had seen her very soul. So what was the point in covering up? “Course, you’re bound to have your fun with it, regardless of my thoughts on the matter.”

Amari reached forward and pulled the white hot poker from the fire, she swung it around absently as she turned to walk toward Lye. “Learning faster…I’m not sure if I should take that as an insult, or compliment.” She stopped, right in front of him. She leaned down, plucking the bread he held right out of his hands. “In what capacity, I suppose that’s up to me. .” She paused, staking the bread onto the tip of the poker, toasting it. She pulled the bread off, and carelessly tossed the poker behind her. It clattered against the wooden floor. “Depending on what I’ve learned thus far.”

She took a large bite of the toasted bread, it crunched and she chewed it thoughtfully. Not realizing just how hungry she was, nor how parched she was till she had started eating.


Amari turned, her back facing Lye as she forced herself between him and the basket of food, wedging her pert ass into the mattress. Having her back turned on him, only to press herself so closely against him. It could be construed as an act of stupidity, defiance, or acceptance. How her so called ‘Master’ took it, was up to him. She certainly was more brazen than the previous days. She picked at the bread. Struggling to swallow it without liquid.

“Is that so….” Amari pondered, as Lye claimed he’d take her. The thought once sickened her, now, it intrigued her, to what context did he mean ‘take her?’. But she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how curious she was. “Is it really up to me to decide, or are you just giving me the illusion of choice.” She turned to him. “Just like you’ve been doing this whole time, right?”

[Lye]

Her wit remained sharp despite Aurelianus’ methods. Whatever he spoke, she returned with silvered tongue. The words of him being put into place soured his expression for a brief moment. He would be a dog or prisoner to no one, but the heat of her comment faded from his mind. Madison and Aurelianus broke him, but they also armed him with a far more dangerous frame of mind. With a steady inhale, he finished off the bread he broke off earlier, and washed it down with another swig from his flask.

Amari took the white hot poker from the fire and his blood rushed. The chill of her potential retaliation sent shivers down his spine. Would she be so bold? Instead, she impaled a piece of bread upon it, briefly toasting and charring it. Finished with the intended task, she discarded it with a clatter against the wood floor. Where it came to rest, the red iron hissed and blackened the cold wood beneath it. Lye’s keen eyes traced her every moment, his mind deciding where exactly she stood after two days of trauma.

“Revival from death isn’t the gift,” Lye retorted, but stayed his tongue of any further designs he had planned.

She sat on the bed beside him, her back turned as she brazenly pressed her bare skin against him. He turned to face the crimson head of hair that spilled over his shoulder as she continued to speak. Instead of anger or disgust, he grew curious. At this stage, Lye expected rage. He expected fear. Instead, she acted as though comfortable. She acted with acceptance.

“You’ll have your fair share of choices today,” Lye replied. He stood, removing himself as her backrest and ventured over to the fire poker as it began to catch flame to the floor. He lifted it and stomped out the infant embers. After placing the poker back where he left it, he walked back over to his trunk. From it, he pulled all of the remaining contents. Several glass bottles were set beside it. Inside, various herbs and fluids were held. Next, he began to remove tools on loan from the demon himself. Meat hooks, cleavers, barbed wire, shears, clamps, needles, and various blades of shape and purpose fell to the floor around him. Lastly, he lobbed two hanks of rope to the center of the room, followed by a length of chain, two sets of shackles, and a roll of black bandage.

“Plenty of choices…” He stood, shut the empty trunk, and used it as a place to perch. “When you’re done eating, I want you to remove your collar and give it to me.”

His voice became more stern as he held his hand out for emphasis. Then, he calmly folded them into one another and rest them upon his legs as he waited. Today he would try to illicit whatever caused her eyes to flare gold. Whatever her gift, revival was the simplest of them all. Weather it be pain, pleasure, or a delicate mix of the two, he plotted to discover what it would take.

“Since you put it on last, you wouldn’t want me taking it off by force.” He paused. “Or do you?”

He smirked with whimsy on his words.

“Then, tell me how you would prefer to be bound for the day: rope or chain.”

His eyes narrowed, waiting for reply. Surely she wanted neither. Surely she wanted freedom. Surely she’d have something fiery to say. Perhaps attack him? His hairs stood on end with anticipation.

[Mari]

As Lye stated revival wasn’t the gift Amari paused. Shooting him a questioning look. Of course, he didn’t elaborate and no amount of questioning would have him say otherwise. “Right…” His words confused her, and she shifted her gaze away from him, instead toward the basket. She grabbed some of the meat and shoved it into the cavity of her toasted bread, angrily so. He frustrated her. This entire ordeal frustrated her. She had gone through man after sweaty man, as he calmly watched. She had begged him for death, and he calmly watched. She was flayed alive, Aurelianus’ claws digging deep into her flesh. Still, he calmly watched. The anger bubbled up inside her and she tore the bread into little pieces - dropping them to the floor. The ravens that frequented her hut would eat them.

Amari turned toward the basket, fishing out a waterskin, she twisted the top off the leather pouch and drank deep and heavy, water spilling over her cheeks. God how she missed the taste of fresh water. Lye mentioned something about choices, but she only heard half his words.

“What if I chose to hurt you?” She asked, grabbing another sliver of smoked meat and popping it into her mouth. She chewed, swallowed, and continued. “What if I had thrust that into your chest?” Her eyes glanced sideways at him. “I thought about it. I wanted to, but it wouldn’t do much. If anything, it’d probably get you off.” His response was a smirk, and it was the only answer she had needed.

He stood, and went back to the chest, as expected he started pulling out instruments of torture. She watched quietly, continuing to eat, picking at some of the fruit, and drinking her fill of water. Some, she hated more than others. The meat hooks liked insidiously nasty, as did the clamps and cleavers. She visibly shivered. Suddenly not so hungry any more. The thought of repeating yesterdays events caused a loss of appetite. Amari set the food down and stood, in one swift motion she took off the collar. She had half expected pain, but none came. Her hunch was right. Only the person who had placed it on, could take it off without pain. It was good information to know. “So that’s how it works…” She mused quietly. Dropping it in front of Lye. Her eyes seethed as she stared down at him. Perched ever so casually upon the wooden trunk. Curtains of his silver hair ran down his front, over his shoulders and back. His eyes were intently watching her every movement. Amari stared right back, the golden rings around her iris’ almost dancing in the shifting light of the fire. “You’re looking for something…” She mumbled. Turning her eyes away from his.

She shied away from a few of the instruments, clearly not wanting any to be used upon her. “The hell is the point of having Aurelianus painfully put me back together so flawlessly if you’re just going to mess me up again?” She mumbled, bitterly, Amari kneeled down, and picked up a small straight knife, at least, it looked like a knife. It’s blade was made of a black obsidian. She turned it to and fro in her hand before letting it clatter to the floor.

“You’ve made my point.” She said, now picking up another, this time a sickle. “You claim to give me a choice, but both end in the same result. Me being bound. You even left out other viable options.” She pointed to each one of them as she named them. “The razor wire. The bandage. And you. Whatever shadow thing it is you do.”

The assassin just watched her in intrigue. As she verbally worked out her options, he smiled and softly nodded. Occasionally, he shook his head, generally amused as she worked it out. “I’m curious...what would you do if I chose neither? If I chose not to be bound?” She paused, watching him for a reaction. She got none, beside his bemused smile.


“That’s what you’re expecting though, isn’t it?” She was able to approach the situation with more clarity than her previous days. He wanted to gain something from her. Amari hadn’t worked out what that was yet, but he needed her alive for it. He needed her here. He wouldn’t let her waltz out. “Or...perhaps you would have me leave, only to find your men, the ravens, and whatever other beasts I hear at night. I’d come crawling back, another lesson learnt...right?”

Amari picked up the rope, then the chain, finally, the black bandages. “You’re going to bind me; regardless of what I say.” She tossed all three toward him. “So do me two favours. One, stop treating me like a fucking idiot, and two, mix it up a bit. Use all three for all I care.”

[Lye]

Lye laughed as the three options cascaded to his feet. The chuckle low and rolling, but humor clearly thick on his voice.

“You’re right,” he added. He got up from his seat, walked to her, and wrenched the collar from her. With a strong throw, he cast it to the corner of the room by the door.

“There are no choices. For you, or for me. Just action and consequence.” He bent down and plucked the shackles from the ground. “I half expected you to try something. Not to say you still won’t.”

He spun around and clutched his grip around her wrists. While firm, he didn’t act entirely violent. Amari gave a small tug, and a ‘tch’ from her mouth, but beyond that, she seemed oddly obedient for the time being. While looking at her dead in the eye and watching that faint filigree of gold, he clasped the shackles to her wrist. Snatching the other one, he bound them together with the second shackle.

“All three then,” he commented, reaching down for the rope.

As he reached down, Amari bought her hands up and then down, over his head. “Oops. Slipped.” The blow was clearly not made to hurt him and he grinned as the cold chain laid across his neck. The slight tension she placed on it proved a point, but not one intended for injury. The assassin crooned his neck calmly with a pop and the chain fell loosely into his body. He stepped forward and her hands fell through the air to her thighs, passing through him.

“None of that,” he commented. His body once again became tangible to the mortal plane, and he lifted the rope from the floor. He spun around and clutched the chain that bound the shackles. With a tug, he jerked her against him and purchased a grip on her neck from behind. Amari stiffened at his firm touch. Drawing a sharp breath - her eyes flashed.

“Don’t be too eager to test me,” he warned, hot breath spilling over her exposed skin.

He pushed her back only enough so he could work a knot around the chain. Swift and practiced, he pulled the rope taught and passed a second knot for safe measure.

“Aww, worried lil’ ol me is going to escape? I didn’t know you cared.”

“Cared?” Lye lobbed the rest of the hank into the air. It passed through the wooden rafters supporting the roof and hooked around as it unravelled to the floor. He walked over to the slack and with a firm pull, snapped Amari’s hands over her head to the point her feet barely touched the ground.

“No, you're just more appealing when you're helpless,” he joked with a thick satire.

Her body long with tension, Lye walked the loose end in and bound it to itself to hold a tight loop. Behind her, he pressed close as he worked the rope. He tied it tight and drew a blade from his back. With a clean motion, he slid steel through it and cut the excess free. He cast the rope aside and walked over to the black bandages. With a heft, he tossed and caught them with a playful look at his captive.

“These were supposed to be for the wounds,” he remarked. The assassin approached her and traced his finger from the valley of her neck, down her chest, and stopped short just below her navel. With a smirk, he walked behind her once more and snatched one of her ankles. He forced her knee to bend and pressed her leg close to itself. One hand wrapped around her abdomen and added pressure against him to keep her from kicking free as he began binding her. Amari tilted her head back as his hands began running passes of fabric between her thighs and around her ankles. Her verdant eyes shimmered with a golden hue he unfortunately was too occupied to witness.

“I know you said I look good in rope, but don’t you think this is a-” She paused, stilling a breath. Her eyes signalling another flash as his fingers traced her upper thigh. “A bit much?”

Another pass of the blade finished his work and he set down the remainder of the bandages. Her body dangled from the ceiling, her legs and arms unable to move. Lastly, he fetched a larger iron shackle from the ground in front of her and turned to her face to face as its iron maw opened.

“You chose all three. All three you will get,” he replied as the iron shackle snapped around her neck. He slid the cotter pin to lock it in place and the cold steel chain dangled between her supple breasts, nipples already erect from the cold.

“Now,” he started as he worked free his own vest and shirt from his torso. Pale, scarred skin met the air with a shiver. He threw his attire by his furs with a thud. “We’ll start with pain. You saw what I laid out. What would you like first?”

He picked up the meat hook and slapped it in his palm. His fingers tested the tip and it pierced through the thick leather with ease. He set it down and picked up a thin, stiletto blade. He ran over the edge and took a seat on the trunk, watching her hang with a flat face.

“We’ll use them all. Maybe more. So which first?”

[Mari]

Lye offered her another false choice, allowing her to choose her own punishment. She glared at him, her eyes burning. “I don’t suppose we’ll be using any of them on you now, will we?”

Lye’s lips spread like a gaping wound to reveal a most terrifying smile, but refused to answer her. Instead, he pressed the stiletto in his hands into an open palm. The blade bit through the leather and from it, beads of blood spilled to the floor in a slow, rhythm.

Amari’s eyes widened, her lips parting in mild shock. The woman never expected him to go along with her request. She instantly felt something amiss. There wasn’t something right about how easily he complied. Nor how he smiled. She didn’t voice her concern. Lye could easily read it on her face. He lowly chuckled, pressing the blade deeper. The eb of blood increased, the rhythmic dripping quickening. “Not good enough?” Lye asked all too casually as he withdrew the blade. He pressed it against his bare chest and let it drag diagonally down across it. Thin scarlet streaks formed, flowing silently down his pale torso in thin streams. “Now?”

Amari did not reply, she simply stared at him, her brow dipped into a confused scowl. Lips pursed. Refusing to talk.

He stood and approached her, roughly grabbing her chin with his thumb and forefinger. Forcing her to lock eyes with his. “I told you, you will know my pain .” Her body jostled. Lye’s eyes widened in delight, knowing what was to come. As he spoke those words, he did something unseen to her.

Amari’s eyes flashed a brilliant gold. Her body jostled against the chains and rope. She arched her back and attempted to twist her head away from Lye’s grip, but he held fast to her. Intently watching her reactions. Amari gritted her teeth. Her body ached before, but this...this was something else. It was a constant throbbing, a dull sensation of permanent torment. She hissed through her teeth. Refusing to allow herself to utter even the slightest nuance of pain. She felt a sharp stab in her hand, and across her chest. Things slowly began to add up in her head. “Y-you’re…” She gasped, her eyes once again flickering as she felt an intense pressure on her heart, with every thump of her artery it felt as though clawed tendrils tightened around it. “W-what is wrong with your heart?”

“A gift and reminder of my year in purgatory,” the assassin hissed in reply. His eyes narrowed. “It lets me know I’m alive. It’s a reminder that my strength still scares them.”


He pushed her face away and turned from her. “Pick another.” He commanded.

“Ass.” She hissed as he turned his back on her, if she had the mobility. She’d have kicked him to the floor right there and then, but it would have been an act in futility. He was a hardy man, and it’d end up hurting her more than him. Amari shook her head, lowering it to the floor. He was going to hurt himself, and Amari was going to feel every sliver of flesh he sliced, and every nerve he ripped apart. “I hate you…” she seethed.

“I Said. Pick one.” Lye repeated in a commanding tone, gesturing toward the various tools and devices laid out before her. “Or I will, and my choice will far outweigh your capacity to tolerate pain.” He sneered, “Or, is that what you want me to do? Did you enjoy Aurelianus’ touch that much?”

Amari slowly lifted her head again. She laughed bitterly at her predicament. Her ‘choice’ was just another lack of freedom. All she could do was act, and her captor would respond in turn. Her half lidded eyes glanced over the various dangerous instruments around her. Some were serrated, others curved. Some were blunt, but all, were purely for inflicting pain upon its victim. Or in this case, victims.

“So…I could choose to have you saw off your arms, but I’d feel it. I could choose to have you impaled, but I’d feel it.” Her eyes widened. “But...this can’t last forever, right?” She hiccuped, her lips forming the slightest of smiles. She pulled on her binds, arching her spine as she rolled her head backward. Crimson hair spilling back over her shoulders and dangling gently behind her. Amari’s eyes started at the ceiling. “You can’t keep this shared pain thing up forever right? I’d be left unmarred, but you...you’d still have all the wounds.” She slowly blinked, considering the ramifications. “Would that make you proud, Master? To see me fall that far?” Amari flung her head forward, her eyes studying Lye.

“Pick nothing, and perhaps I’ll see it as you prefer the demon’s methods over my own? You know he hungers for it,” Lye warned. He flicked the stiletto from his hand and it buried itself into the wood floor beneath her. With a gloved hand, he traced the bloodied wound across his chest. His fingertip ran along the raw flesh, and a sharp pain ran along it for them both.

Amari inwardly hissed as he pressed his hand across his chest, she felt everything. Every beat of his pained heart, every ache of his muscles. Every twinge. It was a macabre bonding experience between the two, one that Amari was not enjoying. “Aure? Aurelianus? Tch. You sound like a jealous lover. The hell would I want that demon rummaging around in me again? I’d like to keep myself complete. No missing limbs or organs, thanks.” She muttered. She had made a deal with Aurelianus that may just contradict her own words, but her ‘Master’ did not need to know of their deal. He was the one who stormed out like a child.


“Or do I need to make you wild with lust first?”

“Fuck you.” She spat.

Lye’s eyes narrowed on her. He walked up as she dangled helplessly from her binds. With the same blood dampened finger, he ran it from her collar bone, over the rounds of her chest, and settled by her hip. The mark mirrored his injury in red and as he teased her skin with his soft touch, her eyes flickered in response despite her best attempts to ignore and hide the sensations that coursed through her body. He continued.

“What next, pet?”

Amari had no choice. She had wrongly assumed that if she didn’t choose, he would for her, instead, it seemed that he’d just hand her over to Aurelianus again. Her eyes landed on the razor wire as Lye spoke. “That.” She gestured to it with her head, she’d felt it before - she was sure she could handle it. “Wrap it around your wrists. Your arms.” She sneered at him, “Don’t be gentle.” If she had to suffer, at least he’d suffer alongside her.

“There’s that fire. Sounds like you’d like to apply it yourself.” Lye grinned as he cupped her chin for a brief moment. “This is fun, isn’t it?”


He wrenched her head away without time for reply and walked over to the sprawled out mess of pain instruments. He picked up a coil of barbed razor wire with a firm grip. The pain of several steel needles biting into his skin prickled over her hands as a spattering of red dripped from his grasp. Amari groaned, already regretting her decision. He then dragged the trunk toward her and settled just out of reach where he took a seat. As if the steel were made of regular rope, he pulled it from the coil.


“You’re right,” he commented with his focus on the wire. “Soon, you’ll be set free from the pain. Only my wounds will remain.”


Amari watched as he bent the metal around his wrist, tight. The blades and barbs pressed in and parted his pale skin. Red bubbled around the wounds and the searing fire tore through Amari, she gave a whimper, choking back a pained cry. “S-stop it.”

Her captor spoke through firmly through clenched teeth as he started to make passes around his wrists, “I’m just doing as you asked, pet.” He pulled taught the metal. The tension bit and tore as is raced across his skin. Amari’s body arched, her eyes flaring again as pain coursed through her veins, then, another sensation. The ebb of pleasure licked at Amari’s consciousness.


“This is your opportunity to hurt me…”

Both he and Amari winced as one of the barbs tore open a plump vein. Blood seeped freely with each combined pained beat of their hearts. “...for what I’ve done to you.” He kept winding the wire tight, from wrist to forearm. “But you will feel everything, so you know exactly what pain you inflict on another from your choices...”

Amari whimpered, pulling at her binds. “Choices?” She shook her head slowly. “You haven’t given me any.” She snapped her head back up to look at him, tears stinging her eyes. “From the very start...from when you first laid your eyes on me, I had none.” She choked, wincing from the pain that tore through her arms. “You’re a fucking control freak.”

Lye finished wrapping the wire, embedding it deep into his skin just below his elbows to ensure it wouldn’t shift. He chuckled. “You’re right.” He stood, picking up the sickle as he approached her. “Perhaps I’ll give you a choice now.” He bought his hand up over her head, and cut the rope free, with a quick jerk of his hands he pulled it away from her.

Amari fell to the floor, collapsing in a heap. The thick metal collar and chain around her neck landed on the wood with a heavy thud. Amari whimpered, curling herself into a ball, massaging her wrists. Lye gave a disappointing sigh, leaning over her. “You can choose to end this pain now, or - you can continue.”

He turned to sit back upon the trunk. Cold blue eyes studying her.

Amari shook her head, a low laugh rolling through her body. “You’re insane.” She struggled to pull herself to her feet. “I must be insane too.” She muttered, wiping the tears from her eyes, wincing with every pained movement of her body. She turned her back on him. Heading toward the fire, the length of the chain that dangled from her neck dragging across the floor between her legs. She picked up the poker, almost dropping it as it came into contact with her hand which shared the pain of Lye’s injury. She hissed, using that pain to drive her.

“My opportunity….right?” She mumbled, turning back to him, dragging the hot poker across the wooden floor. It hissed and spat, leaving a thick black charcoal trail in her wake. “I wonder if this is another test. If I’ll be punished for it later, but…” She paused, standing over him. “I’ve come to realise I don’t care anymore. I’ve fallen into hell.” She lifted up the poker, clearly struggling. It shook in her grip. She twisted it round in her hand. “And hell is hot, right?”

Amari lifted the poker high over her head, bringing it down across Lye’s upper shoulder. She yelped as it came into contact with his skin, more burning pain, more bubbling sensations of a mild pleasure. She had enough, she wanted answers, and she wasn’t getting them.

“WHY?” she screamed, bringing the white hot poker across his skin again. She winced, but she continued with her physical and verbal onslaught. With each question she bought the burning steel against his chest again. It hissed at the touch - and the scent of searing flesh wrinkled her nose. “Why do you keep doing this to me?” She screamed, another ‘thwak’ against his unmoving body. “Why didn’t you just let me DIE on that table?” Another hit across his chest. “Is it my eyes? My soul? Is that it?” Tears streamed down her face. Elicited from the pain she felt, from the heaving in her chest - the constant abuse. The knotted string of mind games and psychological trauma. “When will it end?” She pleaded. Using the entirety of her weight, she heaved the poker into his thigh. Lye’s skin buckled, then finally gave way as it sunk deep into his flesh. Amari wailed, screaming with the pain, but she pushed deeper still till she couldn’t handle it. Her trembling hands tore free from the poker, which now stood upright in her captors flesh. “This is what you want...right…?”

Amari collapsed onto the floor, her entire body shaking, going into a form of shock from the pain. Her breathing was ragged and she struggled to keep herself conscious. Her vision blurred, and dots danced in front of her eyes. Her voice turned into a defeated mumble. “I can’t…” Amari leaned forward, choking back sobs as she wrapped her arms around her waist. Her leg twitched with pain. Her eyes faintly glowing. “I hate you…and I hate what you’re doing to me, I hate what he did to me, and how you handed me over to him, I never wanted to see him again...” She reached out, wrapping her body around his leg. her head pressed hard into him. “I don’t even know who I am anymore…” Her words were barely above a whisper, she broke into a fit of sobs from the Searing and immobilising pain in her leg.

[Lye]

The metal hissed from his leg and even his steeled resolve faltered under the agonizing sensation. His teeth grit and clenched with a deep groan as his hands wrapped around the iron. He wrenched it forward with a low growl and backward before prying it from his body. The wound did not bleed, but the soft wisp of smoke lifted from the gaping hole. He breathed deeply, pushing the pain to the back of his mind where it belonged. The sizzling iron clattered to the floor with his flesh cooking upon its tip. With his bloody hand, he lifted Amari’s head by the chin.

“Good,” Lye replied to her outburst. “You are no longer who you once were. She died on that table. This is who you are now.”

Lye’s other hand drifted to the hole in his leg, and he pressed his thumb into the hole. The crisp and damp meat crackled under the pressure and sent a shared bolt of pain down to the core of his bones. His teeth clenched and a staggered breath seethed past his lips. As he bathed in the pain, Amari twitched, trying to twist her body free from his grasp. Through her sobs, her resolve wavered, it was clear she was trying to stall any sound but whimpers still escaped her quivering lips. Her eyes shone brighter, just for an instant as the pain reached a climax. The assassin narrowed his gaze with a wry smile.

“What I feel, you feel,” he continued. “There are no choices anymore. There never was. Just cause.” He pressed the wound more, gritting his teeth through the agony. “And effect.”

His grip fell from the wound on his leg. His chest gave way to labored breaths as the sting from his wounds washed over him. Trails of crimson now lead from his arms, chest, and leg to the floor. Where his feet rest against the floorboards, a rim of red formed around his boots. His head hung as he focused. His chest rise and fell with rhythm and pain became no more than the pin prickle of a winter’s day.

“Are you done?” he asked, face hidden from her under a waterfall of platinum. “Or is it too much for you?”

Amari weakly shook her head in response, her teeth clenched, her breathing staggered. She refused to open her mouth, seemingly in fear that if she did; she’d only make more pained sounds. She rested her forehead upon his uninjured thigh, her own eyes hidden beneath a cascade of rich, flowing wine hair.

He ran his hand through her hair. His own thick ichor matted down her curling locks but blood and hair became one seamlessly. From appearances, it looked as if he bled the hair that flowed around her bare shoulders and draped over exposed breasts.

“Good pet,” he complimented. “Just a little more before it’s over.”

He could see she hung on the edge of her tolerance. Yesterday more than took its toll and while he knew she could rebound even from death, he had her where he wanted her. Instead, he would share an intimate yet painful secret with her. With a steady breath, Lye let his mind clear with focus. A prickle formed at the back of his head and washed down over his body. His breath stilled and in that internal silence, muffled cracks and pops bubbled from his body. A searing pain of akin to breaking bones flooded his senses and relayed in great detail to his collapsed company. The bones within his body writhed like worms. Calcium stretched from them like roots and threaded through muscle, tearing through meat as they crawled. Lye breathed a sigh of relief, for this pain he grew familiar with. This pain he knew most of all.

Amari hiccuped, her eyes instantly set ablaze, her very pupils a raging fire that leaked out into her whites, even forming cracks like veins beneath the surface of her skin. Lye felt his blood swell with adrenaline at the sight. She sobbed, hiccuped a second time and failed to stifle a scream as her entire body twisted itself sickeningly. She swore at him as her body continued to contort, twisting itself to escape the burning pain. His pain.

The sizzling hole in his leg sprouted several thin threads of ivory. Like living hairs, they reached out to one another, twisted, and bound together. Just under the skin, a thin lattice of bone weaved the wound shut and further layers of honeycombed cartilage spanned beneath. While not healing in its own right, Lye’s bones provided framework for time to do its work on mended flesh. The gashes along his chest also began to shimmer with threads of white. All the while, Lye began to uncoil the steel wire from his arms. Barbs and razors tore themselves free from his skin and roots of bone mended shut gushing cuts and gashes. Free from his body, he cast the bent wire to the far side of the room, repeating the same on his other arm. As the last of his wounds mended, the pain from his unusual control of his bones faded from the both of them.

“That is my pain,” Lye spoke to her, watching as her form relaxed.

He tried to stand, his injured leg fighting him as he rose. With a rigid stride, he walked to the crackling hearth and pulled from it the red hot basket of stones. With a grunt through the unfriendly reminder from his body, he hefted their weight over to the icy basin in the corner. He pulled a lever which split the basket apart and spilled hot stones upon the icy shell atop its waters. The stones danced and skipped with hisses and screams before breaking the surface and roaring into a frothy boil beneath the surface. The assassin quenched the hot iron in the bubbling water and stirred the stones evenly beneath before removing the contraption.

“P...please...stop…hurting yourself.” He ignored her sobs and pleas.

His hand dipped into the water and found it a comfortable lukewarm. He cupped some and let it wash over his lacerated arms. The water seeped into the wounds, stinging at first, but soothed into a cool tingle.

“Come,” Lye beckoned to her. “And bring the bandages.”

As he spoke, Lye worked free the belt which held his trousers to his waist. It fell free from his hips with a heavy clatter as his gear and equipment hit the floor. He removed his torn and tattered gloves only so he could work the knot free from his waist. Trousers loose, he dropped to his knees to remove his boots. Belts and buckles chimed until the pair of boots fell to the floor and allowed him to remove both his black trousers and linen shorts beneath. Now, he stood bare just as she.

He looked to her with a slate expression, as she struggled to push herself up off the floor. Her lips parting in ragged breaths. Despite her pain she obediently collected the bandages and with a great deal of struggle headed over toward him.Then, he stepped into the basin and lowered himself beneath the water’s surface. The lukewarm bath washed over his wounds with a faint sting. The worst of all being his leg where the burnt nerve endings still screamed. The clear waters soon tinged pink as his blood mixed in as he ran handfuls over his cuts.

Amari had approached the basin. Holding the bandage in one shaking hand she picked up his injured palm with the other, Lye watched her silently. He hadn’t given the order to clean himself nor dress his wounds. Her fingers traced his wounds and he felt a tingling sensation. Lye stilled his breath, his body tensed as his eyes lowered to his wound. He saw a faint glimmer of amber, following the flow of her fingers. It sealed his wound shut, healing the skin and completely numbing the pain for him. She had failed to notice, and wrapped the bandage around his wrist, a now useless endeavor.

The pain left his wounds, replaced by a comfortable cooling sensation. After Amari tore the bandage, he clasped open and close his hand without complication. Yet, with a raised brow, he watched the girl rub at her palm as if the wound still persisted. He reached out and took her by the wrist.

“What did you do?” he asked in a low growl.

“J-just what I thought you wanted….” Amari stuttered, startled. “You wanted me to bandage your wounds, did you not?”

“Not that.” Lye pulled the bandages off and showed her his unmarred palm. “This.”

She looked just as surprised as he were angry and confused. “I did that?” She pressed her index finger gently to the palm of his hand, a faint glow emitted from her touch and she withdrew sharply.

His eyes narrowed and with a snap of his fingers, the link between his pain and hers dissipated. Amari gasped at the sudden relief, almost as powerful as being struck.

“Do it again,” he commanded, his arms wide as to expose his wounds.

[Mari]

Amari cautiously reached out again, one hand gripping the side of the tub as she attempted to regain her composure. Once again her fingers delicately traced the wounds on his skin, and once again that same light, the same amber glow that spilled from her eyes followed - closing them shut Her hands shook, the pain returning to her arms, a sharp stinging sensation that she had been feeling only moments before. Her grip on the tub tightened, “It hurts…” She hissed. Still, she continued, till both his arms had been fully healed.

Amari had to stop at this point, her arms ached, and they rested idly in the warm bathwater. Tendrils of her hair, matted by blood floated upon the waters surface. Her head hanging over the basin. She didn’t even care that it was tinged with his blood. She wanted to know why, why she was able to so easily and readily heal his wounds, and why the pain from them still ebbed at her body. “I’m done…” She said weakly.

“Continue.” His voice was stern, commanding - but it didn’t hold the same anger and malicious undertones she was used to hearing. Was there curiosity? Concern? Amari shook her head, whatever it was. It was a ruse. She had heard what he said, she was nothing more than an it to him. Nothing more than mere entertainment. She felt movement in the water, and then a hand wrapping around the back of her neck. Her skin prickled. Lye leaned forward, pressing his face close to her ear.


“It shouldn't hurt,” his voice soothed. “The torture is over and the pain is just my own. I want to see more of your gift.”

Amari gingerly lifted her head, reaching out to trace the thin streak of red on his chest, it too healed, and in turn, she too felt a stinging sensation across her own. She was testing her theory and it seemed she was right. It was an entirely new bonding experience. Rather than share his pain, she was taking it away, only to have it bought back upon herself. “So I have some fucked up healing power too then?” Amari muttered, Aurelianus did mention she had other talents, was this one of them?. “Being able to be revived from the dead...healing others only to have myself experience their pain, or so it would seem.” Her eyes flickered to her arms. It hurts...just like before.“ Amari began working on the burns, her body twitching every so often as more and more pricks and pangs from his injuries. bubbled up on her own pristine skin. “It’s pretty messed up, I wouldn’t call it a gift.” She paused. Only one wound remained. His leg. She didn’t touch it, her hand wavered over it instead; she lifted a heavy head to meet his eyes.

“First, tell me what that..what those white things were, why…” Her voice cracked. The past two days had physically broken her, mentally too, and she barely had enough time to pick up the pieces and put them back together. “Why did it feel as though my bones were breaking? How can you willingly put yourself through that?”


“Call it my gift.” His response mocked her previous statement, but his face turned into the slightest frown. “I’ve grown accustomed to it since childhood. As will you.”

Amari wasn’t entirely satisfied with the answer, but she could not complain, not when he once again, opened up about his past - a genuine frown played across his features and a part of her wanted to wipe it from his face. Perhaps by a nice, hard slap. She didn’t like the promise of more pain, but she had become accustomed to it.


Amari watched him run his hand over where his wounds once were. He looked at his hand as he rubbed bloodless fingers together. His eyes drifted to the blackened splotch on his leg then back to her. She felt his grip around her arm and he pulled her toward him. Given another context, he seemed gentle and coaxing instead of demanding.


She heard him say one word, “Come.” And she obeyed.


Amari struggled to place one foot over the other, stepping into the bath. It was large enough for the two to comfortably sit in. Water displacement caused a pink hued cascade over the rim, spilling out onto the floorboards. Amari wasn’t entirely fond of the idea of sharing a bath with the man who captured her. She had shared similar experiences with her brother, and it wasn’t until recently she realized just how wrong it was. Her expression soured. Despite her feelings against it, she found herself complying almost too easily. She was tired, and losing the strength to constantly fight back. Instead, she’d pick and choose her battles with the man.

“Now, my leg.” He instructed.


Amari gingerly let her fingers delicately trace the wound. She hadn’t realized the extent of the damage she caused. A pang of guilt ebbed at her, despite everything he had done to her...this was serious. “I’m sorry…” She whispered as she felt his skin twitch underneath the pads of her fingertips. The magic of her Ar’Tuel soul, the strange ability to heal began to prickle at Lye’s skin. The seared flesh began to mend itself. Blacked flesh shifting together under amber glow, lightening hues from charcoal to a burnt red. The warmth and comforting sensations of the light digging deep into Lye’s flesh. It seemed that in its unrefined state, her magic had its limits. Coupled with Amari already reaching her breaking point. Dots danced in front of her eyes, her body jerked forward as the pain began to return to her leg. It didn’t hold the same intensity as it did with Lye’s shared pain magic - but it was enough to tip the scales.Her eyes fluttered and she fell forward. Forehead resting against his shoulder. Breasts dipped in murky water. A low groan was the only indication she was somewhat conscious.

In her haze, she felt his arms beneath hers. He shifted her in the water, waves of the bath spilling over until her back rested against his warm chest. She felt his hands wrap around her and the heat of his breath on her neck. Amari barely protested. She allowed him to shift her, and almost lavished at the comforting warmth that embraced her body. She rolled her head back. One hand resting on his good knee. The prickling sensations that coursed through her, the now obvious feelings of mild pleasure, coupled with the pain. She didn’t mind them. Granted, she wished her leg didn’t feel as though it were on fire; but that, in a sense, was her own doing.

“Have you had enough?” she heard him whisper into her ear.

Amari laughed, it was soft and rolling, it held no bitterness. Rather it sounded as though the woman was amused. Akin to Lye’s own chuckles of amusement. “Cause and effect, right?” She sighed, “I’ve had enough pain.” She muttered. “Did you find what you were looking for?” She shifted her head, only slightly to the side - her eyes fluttering as she struggled to fight off the ebb of pain and fatigue. It seemed using her magic excessively, after it being dormant for so long, had tired her out.

“Is this all today?” She asked again, voice sedated. Lye shifted, and Amari could feel his toned arms wrap around her waist. Her answer was evident. He was far from done. Amari stilled her breath, but did not fight against the movements. She wouldn’t dare give him the satisfaction of telling him she was finding great comfort in them right now.

“That depends,” he replied. “Who are you?”


Amari’s smile faded. It was a loaded question, but she had an answer. “The L’Olfsden name holds no meaning to me.” She muttered darkly. “My father left me to die, and my own brother - “ She shook her head, choosing not to continue. She was still struggling to piece her memory of what he did together. “I am Ama-” She paused. It felt strange to say her name, and oddly enough, she struggled to even say it. Ever since she was 18, it had been used less and less. The only person during then, and now, who uttered her name had been Shinsou. Even then...she was under the impression he wanted her head on a pike. Amari repeated her name, it came as a confused whispser. “Amari…”


She paused, “but...” There was another pause, followed by a heavy sigh. Parts of her were pained to admit it, as though saying it out loud only affirmed things, and pushed her deeper down the rabbit hole, and into his twisted clutches.

“But, I am your pet, Master.”


“Are you?” he replied to her. She felt his hands wander, one snaking toward her thighs and the other wrapping around one of her breasts. Amari instantly reacted, her head rolling back, pressing further into the crook of his neck. Her mouth opening in audible gasps. Her fingers curled into his thigh, but she gave no further verbal response. The telltale flicker of her eyes showing the clear and immediate pleasure that had been forced to roll through her, both by his touch - and the insidious sigils placed on her by her own brother. One that she was now all too aware of.


“You’ve done well today, pet.” He gently massaged her in his hand while the other traced the delicate skin between her legs. “You’ve earned a reward. Tell me, what would you like?”




Amari fidgeted, one hand grasped the side of the tub to stop her writhing and slipping further down into the water. She shivered. Her other hand dug deeper still into the flesh of his leg, her nails now curling and biting into his skin. She heard him ask her what she wanted, but her mind was clouded. She didn’t have any real wants; right now, she only had a need, her voice came as soft whines, she wasn’t well versed in sexual things, but she wanted her frustrations gone. “M-make this stop…” She begged, attempting to explain the coursing through her body; she wasn’t granted sexual release, not until her virginity was lost; another sigil placed by her brother, and another she had learned of, thanks to her deal with Aurelianus. If he just...if she could just stop this maddening sensation..she wouldn’t care.

“P-ah..” As his fingers coaxed at her entrance Amari found herself unwittingly shifting her hand to his, forcing him to press harder against her.” She whimpered. “... there’s no re-release…I need it….”

The sigils worked hand in hand, turning her into putty within Lye’s grip, orchestrating their intention beautifully, forcing Amari into a wanton state of desire.

[Lye]

Her words, her insisting hands, and writhing body pressing into his caused a toothy grin on her pale captor. Lye had long since been without a woman in his bed. The prospect of whores or forcing himself upon another disinterested him. In his years of spilling blood in search of answers, the concept of love drowned in the final heartbeats of his victims and remained lost to times long forgotten. Yet somehow, his captive’s exhaustion, her resilience to his punishment, and naive first experiences of lust spurned a fire in his loins.

“I could give it to you,” he coaxed in a low, velvet tone. “Release…”

His hand pressed against her mound, meeting resistance from her intact innocence. Her lips parted into a moan with brows furrowed from the soft pain of pressure. Lye eased away from her and watched her body collapse upon herself from the reeling sensations that heated her soft skin. He shifted himself and stood. The stones at the bottom of the tub clattered together as he stepped free from the bath and fetched a linen towel. He wrapped it loosely around his exposed waist and knelt beside the large trunk where he sifted through several flasks of herbs and serums.

“Can you make it to the bed, pet?” he asked, attentions focused on the contents he poured into an ornamental flask.

Amari lifted herself up and out of the tub, quietly grabbing the last towel and drying herself off with it, the best she could. Her skin prickled and twitched, and it appeared as though her breathing still staggered. She quietly headed to the bed and sat in the centre, legs crossed. Her hands shoved between them. It appeared as though she were attempting to clumsily explore her own body, whilst trying to hide the action from Lye. It did not go unnoticed by him.

Lye finished with a pinch of dry leaves and began to speak in a language foreign to the common tongue. The silver filigree around the flask shimmered and the contents took on a soft light. Incantation complete, light faded to reveal a clear, bubbling potion.

Lye walked over to where Amari lay and leaned over her. His hand softly cupped her neck beneath her jaw and tilted her head into the rim of the flask.

“Drink,” he commanded as he tilted the solution against her lips. Amari grasped his hands against the cup, tilting it further to her lips. Lye smirked seeing how readily she drank, and how her questions had ceased. Amari struggled and made a small choking noises. The potion would be taking effect, paralysis setting into her body. Her hands fell limp to her sides, still, she continued till the last drop was tilted into her throat. “Good, pet.”

Amari fell forward, unable to move her body. Her head landed on his shoulder. “Paralysis? Why?” Lye expected her to be angry, but instead, her voice held curiosity.

“Because you didn’t mean it,” he stated crassly as the empty flask rolled to the floorboards. As the elixir worked its way through her body, Lye tested the desired effect but running a single nail from the nape of her neck, over her collarbone, between the valley of her breast, and down to the inside of her thighs. His lips parted into a grin as her skin prickled from his touch.

“Didn’t mean w-ah..hhh….” her eyes rolled into the back of her head - her curiosity looked as though it disappeared, her question lost in a whimper and the wanton look of lust filled her gaze. Her eyes flickered gold briefly. “Please…” She begged him, “ more .”

Lye firmly gripped her legs and pulled her against him to the edge of the bed. He leaned over her body, pressing skin against skin until his breath heated her neck. His lips hovered just out of touch.

“You’re not Amari,” he hissed in a venomous whisper. He roughly grabbed her chin between his thumb and forefinger and urged her face closer to his. “You’re mine.”

Lye’s verdant gaze looked into hers. Her eyes seemed defiant at first but as his hand snaked behind her head, they relaxed into lustful subservience. He pulled her up from the bed and his teeth sank into the tender flesh of her neck. She groaned in response, hissing a low “yesss…” through clenched teeth, unseen by Lye - her eyes flickered, glowing softly in response to his advances. Her reaction stirred a primal urge and the assassin’s arm wrapped around her waist to pull her against him. The warmth of her genitalia pressed against him, slick with her desire and lust.

Lye failed to gauge his strength and the flavor of copper erupted over his tongue. With a deep gasp, he pulled away from her neck and let the small trickle of crimson trail over her bare body. Lye felt alive, enraged, but enthralled at the same time. His grasp tightened on her and nails bit against her skin. Amari’s breath quivered at the pain, the softest tones of enjoyment on her lips. “Good.” He drawled, seeing the past few days had not been wasted.

Her body fell from his arms back to the bed, where he purchased a firm grip on her supple breast.The other hand crawled across her abdomen and his touch raked down the inside of her thigh. He smirked. She was dripping, and helpless to resist - helpless to sate her own budding desires. Lye continued to tease her, grazing his teeth on her nipples, chancing a taste of her nether regions - dragging nails across skin, breaking her flesh- every action elicited another moan as she begged for him to continue. For him to take her right there. He pressed himself against her entrance, teasing to do so, but refrained.

“No.” He said flatly, lifting his body from hers, beads of sweat formed on her forehead, and her brows furrowed in confusion and frustration, her faintly glowing eyes dimmed. “I’m going to leave you here, pet.” He stressed the word. “I’m going to ensure you feel this way, all night. Tomorrow, I will test you again. If you please me, you will finally have your ‘release’.”

He left her lying bedside and snatched the flask from the floor. Again, he mixed a new serum of herbs, roots, nectar, and essences. The flask glowed as he worked.

“No…” she whimpered, struggling - unable to move as he walked away from her. “Please…” She begged, “Please Master...Please…” Lye felt his lip flare at her cries. His neck craned into a series of pops. An urge nagged at the back of his mind to silence her, but the methods differed from his usual thoughts of violence. His grip tightened on the flask as the light faded from it and the potion took form. He turned to her, crumpled upon the bed with eyes shimmering, pleading in the flickering light of the fireplace. The warm glow of flames painted her fair skin in enticing hues. Inadvertently, the assassin felt his teeth clench and grind.

“No,” he repeated. “If you want it, you’ll prove it to me. But today has tired me.” He approached her, his own exposed midriff eye level to the lustful woman. He grinned, but against his lingering thoughts, he pulled her head up, and poured the contents down her throat. Intended only to intensify her desires, a twist on the common love potion, he set the empty flask beside as she coughed up beads of the sweet syrup. Amari’s breath became heavy and moans escaped between fruitless efforts to move as Lye laid her out comfortably.

“Who are you?” he asked again with a grin, testing her once more.

“I’m yours…” She moaned.

With a venomous chuckle, he covered her glistening body with a the furs crumpled by her feet. He watched her eyes trail him with a pleading glare as he walked to the spare firewood and tossed another log into the blaze.

“We’ll see about that,” he replied, snatching his attire from the cabin floor and beginning to dress. “Tomorrow.”

“Master….” She breathed, the way she said it sent a wave of something through Lye. “Master...please...I’m yours. I’m your pet, your play thing, please...just use me...Master…”

Lye finished tightening the buckles around his waist, keeping his attentions away from her cries. He affixed his equipment to the belt and finished by throwing his arctic cloak over his shoulders.

“Sleep well, pet,” he mouthed before his form slipped through the walls like a ghost. The soft, throaty chuckle fading as he left.

[Rayleigh]

Thread: The Third Day
Participants: Lye & Mari
Judgment Type: No Judgment

Congratulations!

Lye receives 1400 EXP and 110 GP.
Mari receives 730 EXP and 100 GP.

[Rayleigh]

All EXP and GP have been added!