I'm excited.
The Asian man stared at me with such disgust and wariness that I couldn't help but feel offended. Of course, I was dressed in rags and as dirty as a coal merchant, so I didn’t look very presentable! The audacity of my captors was incredible.
I finally left my cell and saw a short corridor of the same stone. I was a little surprised that a torch provided enough illumination to see everything clearly. The passage is littered with what I believe to be murder pits. really weird. I must have fainted and been magically transported to some Scotsman's private house.
Ogedai locked the door behind me, and I stepped forward, eager to leave this dreary place. As I was reaching the second door, a bare saber tapped me on the shoulder.
".Move aside."
I turned around angrily, though I remained silent. How dare he draw a knife on me? The master said I have to listen to Jimena, but he is not her.
He has no right to give me orders. I want to teach him the meaning of pain...
A hand grabbed my tattered shirt and pushed me against the wall.
He threw me like a doll!
My back hit the rock, blinding me with pain. My head followed suit, my teeth chattering from the impact. Pain radiated from every bone, only exacerbating the discomfort I was already feeling.
"ah!"
His hands drilled into the wall and into my chest. My bones creaked under his insult. I clawed frantically at his arm to get him to let me go, but stopped when I felt a metallic chill on my neck.
"oops!"
"I don't accept your attitude, rookie."
There are red dots on his sleeves. It seems that in my panic, I scratched him to a bloody pulp. My nails are as black as black pearls and very sharp. When did it happen?
The blade of his weapon left my neck, the tip buried under my chin until I started yelling. Oh my God, what did I do to deserve this? Why do they have to be so cruel? It hurts my heart!
"Did I make myself clear?"
"Yes!" I whimpered.
How I hate to belittle myself, but what can we do about this outrageous atrocity?
Slowly, the man let me go, although his sword was still drawn. I remained still massaging my poor breasts. Fear began to creep into my mind, awakening my primal instincts. I want to run, but I can't. The door is locked. I don't even know where to go.
Odai patiently fiddled with his keys, and I finally made it to another stone tunnel. However, this time it was different.
It seemed that my prison was just one of many. Several thick-walled blocks cover most of the area, occasionally illuminated by torches. Each cell has four walls and a passageway that guards can walk around inside.
The murder holes I noticed allowed visitors to see what was going on in the hallways and, I presume, shoot through them. I have no idea what kind of beasts are usually kept here, but if I had the power to do so, I would complain about being treated like this.
The Asian man led me through a maze of passages and came to a huge door made of the same silver material as my shackles. He pushed the door open effortlessly. How strong can this man be?
I walked up a flight of stairs to several platforms with more doors, but the ghost platform wouldn't let me stop. Finally, we passed through the last metal gate and entered an actual building.
What a great building this is.
I wanted to take a deep breath and celebrate being out of this cursed hole in the ground, but I found myself at a loss for words. Who in their right mind would spend so much money on something like this?
A corridor led to a crossroads to my right and a dead end to my left.
Closed doors alternate with soft alcoves supported by Doric columns. The floor is marble and the walls are pink granite. Tapestries and paintings are hung everywhere, giving a soft and elegant impression.
Never in a thousand years would I have doubted that there was such a place in America! I suppose I would have to go across the ocean to Buckingham Palace or Versailles to find anyone worthy of such splendor.
The owner of this place obeys my orders.
I was shaking again. I thought I saw wealth, how I
aïve! These are not gangsters and outlaws looking for a quick ransom and a ride to the west. Why, if I run away and meet a bailiff, who will he believe? A dirty squire, master of the place? My testimony will be the ravings of a madwoman.
What trouble have I gotten myself into?
This excitement gave me a moment of clarity, as if external stimulation could lift the veil from my mind, but soon I found it difficult to concentrate again. Why did I run away? I wanted to see that person again; it was the greatest desire in my heart.
The tailgate led me up another flight of stairs and down another corridor. We met a man in a suit who would be covered in sweat if he stepped outside, a couple of women in maid uniforms giving off a pleasant smell, and a girl in a white dress.
Every time we passed someone, Guita would grab me by the neck and force me to look down so I couldn't see their eyes. I didn't need much encouragement. My embarrassment was reason enough.
Finally, the warden left the endless alleys and forced me into a bedroom. Before I could panic, he told me to take a shower and slammed the door.
Once again, I took stock. The room itself was quite small which is reasonable due to the number of people. It is also lavishly decorated in red and gold. The man who designed the baroque corridors clearly had an influence on my new residence.
There are four posters on the bed, taking up the entire middle of the room, and a writing desk and a chair line the side walls. The living space is separated by white panels and on the other side I find a copper bathtub, along with some amenities and another surprise. This place has hot water.
I prepared a tub and took off the disgusting potato sack I was wearing while sliding in the tub, sighing happily.
I don't know if I should attribute my feelings to my previous torture, or my physical condition, but the act of bathing itself has never been so pleasurable.
The water caressed my skin with its silky feel and the heat of the liquid seeped into my body, delighting me. I almost forgot how thirsty I was. Oh, how silly, now there is water to find! What am I waiting for?
I took the warm liquid from the tap and put it to my lips, taking a hasty sip knowing full well that, unfortunately, this wasn't going to work. How strange! Is it a symptom of some disease? Well, I'll think about it later.
When did my skin become so white?
Summer came to Louisiana a few weeks ago and I remember my skin being a light, noticeable tan, but now I look as pale as a Canadian. My nails are black and sharp, and I can't explain it. One more puzzle.
Or should I realize what I have become and why I don't feel hungry?
Wait, there are more urgent things to deal with. I must be presentable. If the warden came in while I was still undressed, I would be embarrassed to death. There is only so much humiliation a decent lady can endure in a day.
I scrubbed vigorously and enjoyed every moment of it. After drying off, I found underwear and a simple linen dress on the table, which I immediately put on. They don't fit me, a little tight around the waist to be exact, but I find I don't care.
It felt so good to be respectable again, and the feel of the soft fabric on my skin was simply divine. I enjoyed myself until I was interrupted by a persistent knock on the door.
I opened the door and saw two people outside. Wotai stared at me expressionlessly. The other man was younger than me and dressed like a servant.
I feel thirsty at the first whiff of his scent. Such an intoxicating perfume! Before I could lean forward, Ogedai's hand grabbed my neck again. Ah! This man must irritate me like this! I will tear him to pieces as if he were a dog!
"Fledgling."
I forced myself to swallow. I don’t want a repeat of the prison cell scene. Those thugs made it clear that they would resort to violence if given the opportunity. Except for the handsome gentleman, of course.
"Stop when the order comes."
The servant looked at me with undisguised horror. He fixed his chocolate eyes on my smile and began to chatter in some language I didn't know. He tried to retreat, but the warden's iron grip tightened around his neck, which only fueled my maddening desire. It gnawed at my chest and wormed its way into my mind, demanding satisfaction. Nothing matters except that relentless desire.
It's weird, seeing a terrified person makes me... dizzy? Thirstier? This kidnapping turned me into a monster. What's the matter? No, this ordeal left me a little hysterical. Yes. Just a little nervous. this is nothing.
I giggled and hugged the man tightly before he tried futilely to push me away. I was still laughing when his eyes met mine and became unfocused.
I sighed as I absorbed the musk of his fear and just a hint of lust. Delicious. I smile as my fangs pierce the skin of his neck and I can finally, finally, drink this damn longing.
Ecstasy again.
I am deluded, I am bewildered, I am destroyed.
If there was a way to transcend time and space, this is it. No ascetics and seers, no shamans and mages would come close to this sacred experience. Not even all the incense and prayers in the world will.
I love it, love it, love it.
A twinge brought me back to the real world. The warden's claw-like fingers dug into the muscles of my neck, forcing my jaw to open inch by inch. The young servant was dragged away, still fascinated by whatever the devil knew.
"wrong."
"Fledgling."
I swallowed, the pain made my eyes turn white. I stopped moving. This is too much.
"You need to lick your wounds. Do it now."
Even when the trickle stopped, I used the tip of my tongue to clean the precious nectar from the young man's skin. I don't waste a drop. Finally, Wotai pulled him further away, and he leaned against the wall in a daze. For some reason, the look on his face was content. However, I am not. I need more. More.
"Aaaiiii!" I cried.
Wokuotai's hand did not loosen. His other arm, now free, locked my arm behind my back. I tried not to let the pain get too bad. I barely resisted his grip. My depression was no match for the ongoing pain and future dislocation.
The terrible thirst finally abated. Like a vigilant tiger, it retreated into the depths of my soul, calming down but not disappearing.
I am myself again.
Wait, what happened?
I can't remember.
related to nutrition.
Wokuotai pushed me away and I fell on the bed. With a scream, I got up again. I wasn't naive enough to understand what it meant to be in a bedroom with a man and the Warden made me wary.
Fortunately, this time my fears were unfounded. Ogedai bent down toward the servant, I guess, to see if he was okay. Apparently satisfied, he stood up and asked me to follow him.
We left the room and I tried my best to keep up with the tall stranger. Another numbness made my limbs heavy and my mind exhausted, but I refused to give in.
We went downstairs, back to what I thought was the first floor, and soon came to a thick door made of some kind of wood I didn't recognize. Wokuotai opened one easily and pushed me inside.
There was no doubt that the room I was in was a training room. It is a very wide rectangle surrounded by an undecorated gray stone wall. Weapons racks lined my left, aiming to my right, and benches adorned the far wall.
I was surprised to see that the ground was made of stones covered with a layer of sand, which reminded me of an illustration of the Colosseum that I once saw in a book. If a lion and a gladiator came strutting in to the sound of brass trumpets, I wouldn't even blink.
The only person present besides us was a woman with curly black hair. I don’t know whether she left a shocking or profound impression on me.
Her face was handsome rather than beautiful, owing to an unfortunate square jaw, but she exuded an aura of gentle elegance that was only enhanced by a well-fitting piece of leather armor. Her presence made me question my sanity again.
I know that Napoleon's cavalry wore steel breastplates into battle, but she looked more like a poacher than a soldier, and besides, gentle women shouldn't be dressed like this, it was inappropriate.
She ignored us as we approached, until no doubt we came to talk to her. She frowned, sheathed the freshly cleaned knife, and turned to us.
Her cool aura is just as powerful as Odai's but more elegant and I believe she is one of them, I mean I believe that's where her confidence comes from. Was she an Amazon, standing unafraid before that man? I supposed some terrible accident had occurred and I was now under the spell of some potent concoction that was causing me to hallucinate.
"squire".
"Courtier," she replied with a sneer.
A trace of anger flashed across Wotai's twisted face, but he quickly hid it.
"It is up to you to introduce the fledgling while her master conducts the important business of the conclave."
"What kind of owner would bring a fledgling child here? Is she too flawed to be left unattended?"
"You may convey your concerns to Lord Nirari. I am sure he will be pleased to hear your objections, Squire. The order passes. I bid you farewell."
With that said, Ogedai turned around and trapped us both. I had some hopes that this person would be sympathetic to my plight, but those hopes were quickly dashed.
The disgust on her face reminded me of Mrs. Moore, only with anger on her face. Instinctively I took a step back.
A sense of danger dispelled my lethargy, and I realized that the warden had cleverly set the stage so that I had no chance of finding a friend here.
I still don't understand what happened. My brain barely works. I'm a woman playing a complex card game whose rules I've never been taught, and I'm not even allowed to ask for help.
The woman seemed to have made up her mind and motioned for me to join her at the stand. I stared at the rows and rows of medieval weapons, some of which must have come from barbarian kingdoms.
I have never seen so many sharp, blunt knives in all shapes and sizes. One is just a chain with a blade on the end, I just can't understand how that could be a sensible weapon.
We both stopped and she looked at me expectantly.
I do not know what to do.
Does she want me to choose my own weapons?
"Um?"
I felt a wave of panic. In order not to displease this old witch, I desperately searched for something to protect myself, and I found it. I grabbed it and held it protectively in front of me.
"That's a shield."
I nodded in agreement. Apparently, it is.
"Are you messing with me, rookie? Can you still talk?"
"Yes, I'm sorry, yes, I can speak, and no, I didn't mean to piss you off."
"Excuse me, what do you swing?"
I don’t remember much, but I do know that my...father? Yes, my father, I don’t remember his face, and he would never let me learn swordsmanship. It's so unladylike to wield a knife.
Louisiana had become a dumping ground for French debtors, prostitutes, and scoundrels. There is no need for us landowners to act like savages.
Having said all that, I did go looking for furs and meat, and there were so many runaway slaves that leaving the plantation without weapons was a foolish attempt.
"I'm a good marksman with a flintlock rifle—ah!"
The woman's face turned into a mask of rage. She grabbed me by the collar and threw me effortlessly out of the room.
My mind went blank.
The world changes before my eyes. I landed on my shoulder in pain, but I still slid on the ground.
Finally, I stopped at a machine.
A second later I heard my shield slam into a far wall.
The pain stole my breath. I can't think.
it.
It breaks my heart.
"AaaAAAaa..."
I don't know how much time I spent here, leaning over and crying. My whole body hurts, I'm so tired and thirsty.
Why?
why why why why?
Something cold stung my ribs. I opened my eyes and saw the evil witch looking down at me. She used a blunt training sword as a poker. Oh, why, why does she have to be so cruel?
"Okay, rookie, let me see you use your shot."
"I……"
"What are you waiting for?"
She stabbed me.
The tip of the sword pierced my chest, not enough to kill me, but enough to hurt me.
This new pain only added to the old pain and I was about to collapse. I can't go on like this anymore. Their cruel games, senseless attacks, cold demeanor.
I didn't ask to be here and I get laughed at and humiliated every time. abuse. torture. For what? What evil game are they playing that they don't even think I deserve to know the rules? I just want this to end, I just want to die.
Dad, please help me, I can't take it anymore.
So, I cried like a baby. I burst into tears and burst into tears.
I waited, sobbing, for the heavily armed female villain to continue her abuse, but it didn't come.
A pair of hands gently picked me up and placed me on top of the stupid dummy. I was so scared that I closed my eyes.
A finger brushed my chin, cupping my face.
After a few seconds, I dared to open my eyes.
The woman's face was frighteningly close to mine. She stared at my cheek in wonder.
"Rookie, I have a request."
"Um?"
"Can I lick your tears?"
“W… World Health Assembly?”
Is this woman completely crazy? This request makes no sense! However, there was a sudden look of desire on her face that was so intense and pure that it took my breath away.
"Please...please, please."
My gut told me she was telling the truth, even though it seemed unlikely. It was all so surreal and I found myself speechless. Was this the man who threw me across the room like a rag doll?
I had to make a decision, and despite my better judgment, I agreed.
I closed my eyes and watched her slowly lean forward. A chill ran across my skin, and I forced myself not to scream. This new feeling was so strange, yet so intimate, that I dared not move.
A cold tongue runs along the other side of my face. Immediately I heard gasps and whimpers. I opened my eyes again and witnessed an extraordinary spectacle.
The woman who had such perfect posture was now crying in front of me. There was a hint of pink about her as I watched her slowly fall forward.
Out of a protective impulse, I touched the back of her head with my left hand. I patted it gently. Her dark curls were the softest things I had ever touched.
At first, she tensed, but soon she leaned into my gesture, and for a moment, we just lay here.
My pain disappeared quickly. Am I hurt? No, probably not.
My arm fell off. It feels so good. I think I might fall asleep now.
I blinked. The Amazon was looking at me with her usual cold mask on. Is this all my dream? Definitely not! Hey, her skin is still rosy.
"Fledgling."
I gasped in fear.
"Do you know who I am?"
I shook my head, too scared to cause another pointless rage.
"I am Jimena, the squire of the Cadiz clan, and the quartermaster of this squire."
“…”
"can you understand what I am saying?"
"You are Jimena."
She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.
"How old are you exactly?"
"I'm nineteen."
She frowned.
"I never heard of Lord Nirari raising a baby bird, especially one that couldn't talk. So what did he teach you?"
"who?"
"Lord Nirari, your master."
"I don't know that person."
"What do you mean?" You are his, I see your fangs. "
I stared at the woman silently. Fang? Master? I'm dealing with a raving madman!
"Unless...no!"
Ximena looked at me in complete disbelief.
"Have you happened to meet a tall man with brown eyes and brown hair lately? Dark, implemented?"
"And incredibly handsome," I replied in a dreamy voice. "Yes, he did ask me to call him master. Is his name Nirari?"
"Yes, when did you first meet him?"
"Ah, just this morning, in my cell!"
Ximena seemed to be getting more and more agitated, and I still couldn't tell whether it was me or her who was crazy. At least I know the name of my killer, my master. Ni
a
i. Such an exotic name. Maybe one day it can be mine too.
"Fledgling?"
"Um?"
"I need you to tell me the truth."
"Oh, I will. Master told me to obey you in everything."
"I see. Well, tell me, is your earliest memory of that cell?"
"Yes! I coughed and my throat suddenly choked. Ximena shrank in sympathy.
"Yes. I woke up there yesterday. At least I think it was yesterday. Without the sun and the clock, it's hard to know the passage of time."
"Yesterday? Yesterday! ?"
"Yeah?"
"You feel like your mind is not functioning properly, as if your memories are hidden behind a veil?"
"Yes!" Finally someone understood my dilemma! Oh, I almost cried!
However, Jime
a didn't answer, but stood up and started pacing.
"Is it some kind of pain?"
"Yes. Yes, it is. You'll also notice his paleness and sharp nails. And thirst."
"Is it going to get better?"
Ximena stopped pacing and stared into the distance.
"No...no, no."
I waited patiently for her to elaborate. I could learn more about my situation from her, as long as I didn't anger her further. I wanted her to hurry up because I found myself longing to get back to my bedroom more and more. Maybe I can find something to drink there.
"What's your name? Do you remember it?"
"Yes. Ariana."
"Hello, Ariana. Did Lord Nirari mention the ritual?"
"He said if I did a good job, I could absorb his essence and live for three days."
Ximena said to herself, and unfortunately, I heard what she said. This woman can curse like a sailor!
"Well, young Ariana, you find yourself in a delicate situation. However, you have given me something very precious, something that can only be gifted and not demanded. Strong emotions are so precious .For that, I'm grateful and will try to help you."
She helped me up.
"Yes, your illness is serious, and I'm sorry to tell you that it's incurable."
"What? I...I have never heard of this disease! So I am your prisoner? Because of this condition?"
"Indeed. You can think of the veil over your mind as a kind of anesthetic, protecting it during the transition."
"But...I don't want to-"
"Shh," she said, "I know it's scary, but you're still Ariana. Always remember, you're still yourself."
"-Yes, I am Ariana. I am my own."
I staggered forward.
"Ah, you must be exhausted. Please sit on my shoulders and I will lead you to a room."
