"Little Star," the king said, his red eyes shining down as he greedily took in my whole body and the repressors upon it, "it will be my pleasure to corrupt your soul."
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Darkness laid the Kingdom to waste since the r...
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Agony.
Putting repressors upon your body is agony. I did not scream, my body to numb from past pains to respond to this one. Yet it was still agony. The ink burned into my skin, as the artist did her work. Everywhere.
Arms, legs, feet, hands, neck, back. All covered.
I looked at my new body. In a way it was beautiful. The black symbols crawled around me, sticking out from my light brown skin. The designs were of my own choosing. I at least, had the luxury and option to choose what would reside upon my body for the rest of my life.
I chose sacred symbols- the moon, sun, air, water, ground, fire and light. Anyone who looked at them would know that I was gifted. I was a holy leader held with the highest prestige. I was an Arishia.
"Is this enough?" the elder asked.
The artist looked down at my body. She had done a magnificent job. But then again the Elders had insisted upon the best for me. Someone who knew what they were doing before I was tossed in the fire.
"Let's see," she said.
She took out a thin piece of paper and placed it upon my skin. The paper immediately turned red.
The woman sucked in a quick gasp of breath.
"I have never seen such a high level BloodTest in my life," she looked at the elder, thinking about what next to do, "you did tell me she had a very high level, but this is just insane. I bet if she walked off the grounds that are protecting her, they would go mad with her scent and be able to smell her within 100 miles."
The Elder's eyes widened. We exchanged glances. This had to be done. I at least had to make it to where they were taking me to alive without my scent distracting others.
"Give us the steel then," the Elder said, moving closer to me as if to provide some unknown support.
"She'll attract attention just with the amount of repressors she has on now," the artist said frowning at us.
"Give us the steel." The Elder left no room for argument.
The artist gave me what could only be described as a look of pity before she walked to her bag and pulled out a small chest.
Inside were cuffs, bracelets and other assorted jewelry.
"We'll start with the basics and then see if we should add on from there," the artist said.
She started small- a ring, earrings, and bracelet.
The thin strip of paper still turned blood red.
The artist gave a frustrated sound from the back of her throat.
I watched all this with no emotion. I knew already that it would be a lot. This was my fate. It was best if I accepted rather than argue and fight against the currents. What comes will come.
