Challenge 17: Leaving Your Mark / Being Marked

[IsabellaRose]

THE CHALLENGE

For this challenge, write whatever you want that's inspired by the idea of "Leaving Your Mark" or "Being Marked." Tell us what that means to you. Who gets marked? How are they marked? What is the significance of being marked? How does one feel after being marked? 

Deadline

• Midnight (EST) Saturday, 10 June, 2023

Limits

• 1 entry per person
• ~2,000 words max per entry

Prizes

• 1st Place: 2,000 EcchiCredits
• 2nd Place: 1,000 EcchiCredits
• 3rd Place: 500 EcchiCredits

Edited June 12, 2023 by IsabellaRose

[Starcry]

-Cracks knuckles- Here we go~

[Starcry]

I just thought... are we to write a story or write an opinion piece on how we see how it works? 

[IsabellaRose]

A story, for sure. 

[Starcry]

Thanks for clearing this up. I wasn't sure if I would be writing a whole ass essay or what. lol

[Nafarman]

The Branding Iron

 

"Oh the misery, everybody wants to be my enemy~"

 

Walking through the corridor, Jay was humming to himself. It was supposed to be a prescribed advice to keep his anger checked. It wasn’t working, not today. He seemed disturbed. The frown lines on the young adult’s forehead were thickening by the minute.

The knocks of his boots echoed around the empty corridor as he made his way to the lift. Jay was hoping he wouldn’t have to run into any of his coworkers today. This was his third job in last four months and he had to keep this one. He didn’t want his anger issues to become a part of his resume.

Thankfully, the lift was empty. Heaving a little sigh, the man got on the lift, quickly pressed “B2” then restlessly began to press the close button, as if the repeated presses would make the lift door close any faster. It was a short ride, but Jay was increasingly becoming restless. Suddenly the tie around his neck felt too tight. When that was loosened, he was feeling too warm for having his suit on. When the suit came off, there was something on his face that he couldn’t wipe off no matter how much he tried. In the middle of that, he felt something was creeping into his chest. Crossing his arms seemed to satisfy him for the moment, but the invisible bug started crawling on his face again, thrusting him between a limbo of wiping his face and keeping his arms crossed against his chest.

Finally, the doors opened and Jay was free from the purgatory. Leaning forward, with his weight mostly on his toes, Jay hurried over to his car. He had to get away from this place, from all the known faces. Luck really wasn’t on his side today. His head loudly smacked against the car door when he was trying to get in. “Owh…” groaning in pain, he slumped down on the seat, slamming the door close. “Fuck… FUCK!” He screamed at the top of his lungs, slamming his fists on the steering wheel over and over. There was no relief from this frustration, but eventually he started to calm down. The slams were getting weaker and slower and eventually it stopped with Jay resting his head on the steering wheel. Heaving a deep sigh, he put the keys into the ignition chamber and leaned back up.

“Siri, call Dr. Shen.” He said, starting the engines and pulling out of the parking.

The call rang for a bit until a calm, low voice floated out of the car speakers, “Why, what a pleasant surprise Mr. Miller. I really appreciate you taking initiative to call me. Was there anything you wanted to talk about before our appointment on this Friday?”

Thankfully, our technologies hadn’t developed so much where we could punch someone over a voice call. For some reason, Jay hated how Dr. Shen would always make a point of being overly gentle with his words. “Cut the crap! I know you just want the money and I will shower you with a fucking bucket of it. I just need you to give me something strong! Something that would fuck me up and knock me the fuck out, I’m tired of these fucking nightmares.”  That’s what Jay intended to say, but regained his composure before opening his mouth.

“Hey there Mr. Shen. Can we have the appointment today?” He asked, glancing over the digits on the car screen. It was 22 past 5. “At 6pm? It’s kinda urgent.” Jay didn’t need to clarify it; the urgency was resonating allover his tone.

The other side remained silent for a moment. “Well, certainly. I will be looking forward to meeting you at my office then. Safe travels, Mr. Miller.”

“Thank you, really appreciate that.” Jay said quickly, before hanging up, preparing to take the next left to Mr. Shen’s chamber.

 

It was 8 past 6, Jay was sitting on the divine sofa in front of Dr. Shen, with his face under his palms.

“Mr. Miller, please relax. I am here to listen and work through this difficult time with you. Please lay down and free your mind-”

Jay didn’t let him finish, “That’s, that’s the thing! I just can’t relax! No matter what I try, everything makes me angrier, more frustrated and I don’t know what to do about it! I…” As Jay was talking, Dr. Shen poured a glass of a water and placed it near him on the coffee table. Patiently, he waited for Jay to finish. “..these nightmares are driving me insane. I’m scared of falling asleep, nothing feels right anymore.” Jay stopped rambling and reached for the glass of water.

Dr. Shen hadn’t taken any notes yet. Once Jay stopped, he reached for the pad and pen. “I can understand the stress you are in Mr. Miller. It is rare to experience such escalations, but I assure you, I can help and I am here to help you. Let’s start from the beginning. Do you remember since when you have been having these nightmares?” He asked calmly.

Jay was catching his breathes after chugging down the glass of water. “Uh… I’m not sure. About 5 or 6 days? I remember having… similar nightmares before.” He said, setting the glass down on the table, trying to recall more about the nightmares. “But it was never recurring like this.”

The psychiatrist quickly took down some notes, underlined the keywords a few times then looked up at Jay, “Mhmm, anything else? Kindly talk me through your last week, did anything significant happen? Did you happen to reconnect with someone you share traumatic memories with?”

The young man leaned back, trying to recall the details of the spent week. “No, I haven’t reconnected with anyone like that, but...” He began to speak, trying to be as descriptive as he could under his current conditions. Dr. Shen carefully listened to him, taking down little notes, and trying to understand the state of his mind before he would go to sleep and finding a pattern. So far, the symptoms were pointing toward some repressed events, only thing that was left was to find common threads between the patterns and the contents of the nightmare.

“Very good Mr. Miller, I really appreciate you going in details about your days. It really helped me in the process.” Dr. Shen said with a smile, once Jay finished his words. “We are ready for the next step now, please describe these nightmares to me. Can you tell me anything about the place where you see yourself? About the people around you if any? If yes, do they at all seem familiar to you? If they are strangers, did you feel any sort of connections with them?”

The plethora of questions was making Jay really nervous, but as he began to focus on trying to recall the contents, he eased down rather quickly. The questions outlined the description he needed to provide. Sighing a little, Jay began to talk.

“I saw myself in the middle of… a burning town. Everything looked really backdated, as if I was somewhere in the 1800s. People were screaming allover, I was hearing footsteps, as if they were being chased by something. I don’t remember correctly, but I did not feel any sort of connection with anyone, or the urge to help them. If anything, I was… enjoying it?” Jay paused. “The terrifying part is… I saw myself, stepping over a helpless young girl, with um… with a branding iron shaped like a trident on my hands. I felt… an intense hatred for the girl, I didn’t know why, but it felt right. I still don’t know why I felt like that. Then… I aimed the branding iron for her back and pressed it down.” Jay paused again, quietly reaching out for the glass and holding it out for another glass of water.

Dr. Shen nodded understandingly and poured him another glass of water. Jay took a small sip then set the glass down and began to talk again, “The iron… it was red hot. I clearly remember the sizzling sounds of her flesh burning against the iron. From that moment, the hissing would be the only constant and everything else would fade out. Even after marking her, I would keep pressing the iron, until it would melt through her skin. I… I never smelled burning flesh other than steaks, but I would get this intense smell of her flesh burning. No, the smell wasn’t remotely close to how steaks smell like.” He paused for a brief moment. “I would keep pressing, getting this… euphoria from seeing her flesh melt through the iron until I would reach her heart. Then a bone chilling scream and I wake up. I’ve been having this same nightmare, on and on, everytime I fell asleep the last few days. Even if I laid down for a nap!” Jay began to lose his nerves again as he kept talking about it.

Seeing the situation escalating, Dr. Shen stopped him. “That would be plenty for now, Mr. Miller. Please relax. Let’s take a break and have a cup of green tea. I can see some connections between some past events and the dreams you are having. Under the state you had been in the last few days, it would be…” Dr. Shen kept talking, trying to ease Jay down but Jay had given up.

And here comes the bullshit; Jay thought, reaching for the glass. But as he did, he suddenly saw he was holding the same branding iron from his nightmares instead of the glass. His breathes hitched up quickly and he began to shake visibly. He could feel the heat radiating from the crimson end of the iron. All freaked out, as he looked up at Dr. Shen, he suddenly got this irresistible urge to shove the iron down his chest, and mark him up.

The psychiatrist noticed the shift in air, the visible changes in Jay. “Are you alright?” He asked, but nothing was reaching through to Jay. The man kept looking back and forth from his hand to him. Anticipating Jay was going into a shock, Dr. Shen quickly got up from his seat, assuming a defensive position.

As soon as he got up from his seat, Jay heard the same old sky piercing scream in his head, and out of reflex he tossed the iron on the other side of the room. When the glass shattered against the wall, Jay managed to snap out of it. “Oh god… I’m so sorry… I think I’m hallucinating.” Jay said covering his face in shame. “I… I kept seeing the same branding iron on my hands. I should go… I need to go.” Jay quickly stood up on his feet.

Dr. Shen seemed relieved as Jay gained his composure back. “Please, sit down Mr-“ He tried to say, but seeing the condition of the man, he swallowed his words. He couldn’t find the confidence to ask him again. “It wouldn’t be wise to drive home now Mr. Miller. Shall I call you an uber?” He asked, trying to stay as calm as he could.

“No.. no, no need.” Jay said, “I just wanna be alone for the time being.” The man didn’t wait anymore and hurried his way out of the room. As he walked out, he found Dr. Shen’s assistant standing right outside of the door. It didn’t take Jay much to figure why she was there.

On his way out, Jay took a good look at the assistant. Of course, he has a slutty secretary… he commented in his head from the tight midi skirt she was wearing. Simultaneously with the thought, he suddenly found himself in that same town again, holding the branding iron, over the helpless girl, ready to mark her from the hatred. Except this time, he could clearly see it was the assistant he was aiming for.

[Starcry]

Spoiler

 

Keshet slowly walked behind the slave merchant as he led her further into the back of his store. The only thing guiding them were the torches on the walls and the smell of blood and sweat. Everything in Keshet’s mind shouted that what she was doing was wrong in so many ways, however, she was desperate and time wasn’t on her side. She had already been attacked by rival mages and she had barely made it out alive after the last one. It was after that, that she decided it was time she found someone to be her mana fountain… a Blessed Shakti.


The casually dressed, bolding man, looked back at the pink hair mage and snorted in amusement. He didn’t think the kid would buy one of his slaves and he had hoped to scare her away with the sights and smells of his storage but this kid had more guts that he gave her credit for. Most new mages had run out by now but this one didn’t seem to scare so easily. It seemed that he’d have to go out of his way to try and put this one off! 


“All of these are imperial prisoners sentenced to death.” The merchant told her as he showed her around the cages. The people within were of all different races, ages and genders. It was clear this man didn’t care who was in his hands; they were just cattle to be sold… for the right price, of course. “They were lucky enough that our glorious and eternal moon, Empress Elsie, personally chose these criminals to become Blessed Shakti.” 


Keshet looked at all the prisoners and once again a pang of guilt hit her. This felt so wrong but she knew she had to do this. She wouldn’t survive another day without a Blessed Shakti so she had no choice but to push her core morals to one side and swallow the bitter pill that forced her to take away someone else's freedom for her selfish reasons. After a small look around at the cages she found a well-built exotic man, who was dressed in a way that made it obvious that from one of the desert regions far from their location. Something about him drew her in, however, as she came closer to him she covered her mouth and gasped as she saw he, unlike the others, was in chains and had fresh injuries on him. What on earth did they do to him? How was this “lucky”? This was becoming more messed up the longer she was there and she was on the verge of feeling sick from it all.


The prisoner looked up from the floor and at the small mage and was taken aback by how not just her beauty but how young she was. It was clear from her outfit and how she held herself that she was a new graduate that had just started her pilgrimage to whichever temple she felt spiritually aligned with. He wasn’t going to make any other guesses about her because in his personal experience looks could be deceiving. Yet at the same time, he felt no malice from her. Although he was curious as to why she was so shocked at his appearance. It was common for his people to be discriminated against and abused like this so he didn’t understand why she would pity him like this.


“Him, please.” Keshet managed to get out, as she pointed to the man. She tried to show that she wasn’t nervous about the prospect of buying another human but it was easy to tell how uncomfortable she was about it all. Her slight shaking gave it all away.


The merchant smirked at the naive girl. He didn’t think she’d have what it took to follow through with this but here she was. A barely licenced mage, looking for something to boost her power. He couldn’t help but admire her conviction after everything he had done to try and put her off.


“Prisoner 2758, don’t try anything funny.” The merchant warned before unlocking the cage door. “You should be honoured that this young lady has chosen you!”

 

The prisoner didn’t say anything and just walked out of his cage, the chains on his ankles making clinking sounds as he moved. He knew better than to talk back and this young mage was his only ticket out of this hell.


Keshet was horrified as she saw her purchase up close. He wasn’t just chained, had bruises and whip marks on his body. Not to mention the smell… hadn’t they allowed him the basics? A million questions rushed through her mind about the mistreatment of this prisoner but they were cut short as she continued to follow the merchant.


“This way.” He yanked on the prisoner's chains as he lead the duo into another room.


The room was filled, with books on one side of the room and potions and ingredients of some sort on the other. The room had various mixing equipment too. The merchant then motioned for them to stop as they came close to a desk. There was a hooded figure doing some writing while chanting some unfamiliar words.


“It would seem that a fledgeling has appeared in my roost…” The hooded figure finally said after he finished writing.


“The young miss wishes to purchase this slave for mana purposes. She has already paid full price, including the special pact fee.” The merchant told the person at the desk.


They wouldn’t see it but he raised an eyebrow. This seemly inexperienced mage was much more organised than many of her elders. He was slightly impressed.  “I assume you have informed her and her new… acquaintance about the ritual?”  


“I may have forgotten…” The bolding man chuckled nervously before flinching as an empty glass flask was thrown at him. It was clear that it was a warning shot.


“Get out of my sanctuary and lock the door. You two stay.” The hooded figure snapped. He then let out a big sigh as the three of them were left alone. “Do not be afraid dear children.” He said to them both as he motioned for them both to come closer. 


Keshet and the prisoner looked at one another both thinking the same scepticism after seeing the little spat that took place. But eventually, they both did step closer and took seats at the large desk.
 The hooded figure let out a small sigh and removed his hood to reveal a very fragile and feminine-looking man, with long golden hair. He clicked his fingers and the chains vanished from the prisoner. 


“The name is Jaxx.” He told them both as he closed his books. “Not my true name but I thought it was polite if I gave you a name nonetheless.” He then thought for a few moments before pointing at the girl. “I will just call you Pinkie because you don’t look like you have thought of an alias yet. And you~” He glanced at the tanned man, however, the pause was long enough that anyone could tell something was slightly off. “Uriel…” He finally spoke with a smirk as he pointed to the prisoner, knowing full well that he couldn’t answer him back.


Keshet shook her head and sighed. Jaxx was right, she did need an alias because she certainly didn’t want to be stuck with “pinkie” It made her think of her cousin’s pet pig. The prisoner, on the other hand, glared at Jaxx. He knew something about himself and that name… that cursed name was a poke at him and his clan back home. 


“Now that is sorted, I need you both to stand in that white circle with the symbols that look like the elements,” The blond man told them before he searched his shelves for the right mixture for the ritual he was about to perform. 


The young mage looked to “Uriel” and she gave him an awkward smile as they walked to the circle in question, and waited for the strange man to be done with whatever he was doing. The prisoner simply gave a small, polite nod in response to her. He didn’t want to risk saying anything to upset her just in case it made her change her mind about having him.


“I’ll need some blood from you both, so please cut your palms and empty a few drops into this cup, please!” Jaxx told, them as he handed them both silver daggers.


Once they were done, he mixed the concoction in a silver cup and dropped a ring with an opal stone in there. With a few waves of his hand and a few small chants, the mixture was complete. He then removed the ring and placed it into Ketshet’s hand and then gave the prisoner the cup. 


“Pinkie, you choose whichever finger to put that ring on. However, you must know that once it has been put on that finger it will be only the size for that finger.” The blond man told her. She simply nodded in response before she closed her eyes and chose her left index finger. “Uriel, take this cup and begin drinking it as I chant. Do not stop until you finish every last drop.” He told the exotic man. He simply nodded in response and looked at the mixture then grimaced at the fact he was going to have to drink it.  Jaxx threw some white dust onto them both. “Pinkie, close your eyes. Uriel start drinking!” With that, he began to chant the same verses over and over. 


Ketshet felt a sudden surge of energy flow through her as he began to drink. Was this the power of a Blessed Shakti? It felt amazing. Better than any bitter mana potion. However, as the building ecstasy of energy rushed over her body, the servant's memories flashed through her mind. Keshet heard people say his name. Over and over she heard the name Remiel said in many emotions. Was this the prisoner's real name? She was about to say it but chose not to, out of respect. Instead, she chose to give him a new name. Not to show her dominance or ownership but to signify a new beginning. 


Once Uriel finished drinking he collapsed to the floor and began to spasm in pain and grit his teeth so he didn’t cry out in agony. It felt like his very being was ripped apart. It reached the point where he thought he was going to die when a small blue glow appeared on his lower abdomen and left a marking before the pain finally stopped. This would be proof to the world that this man was now the young mage’s Blessed Shakti. The ritual left Uriel exhausted, covered in sweat, with laboured breathing, and barely able to lift himself.


“It is done. You are now connected and cannot part until one of you dies.” Jaxx said to them, clearly in a joking tone, before he sat down, clearly spent from performing the ritual but said nothing. He just sat back and watched the duo. His work was done. 


Ketshet found herself running to her servant’s side to check if he was ok. Once it was clear he was still awake she offered him a hand to help him up. “I won’t call you Uriel… I’ll call you Rem.” She whispered to him softly as he took her hand. “You can call me…Ophelia.” She added once he was steady on his feet. 


Rem didn’t dislike the idea of having a new name. If anything, he was surprised that she’d give him an alias. He simply nodded in acceptance of her gift and acknowledgement of her name too.

“Thank you, Mistress Ophelia.” He finally spoke, with a genuine smile.


From that moment on her Blessed Shakti had decided to show her just how thankful he was for her gift. No matter what he was commanded to do. 

Edited June 13, 2023 by Starcry

[SataiRolePlayingGuy]

It is convenient, I can keep drawing from my RPs for these.  Not reusing a character this time but will be drawing on my settings, a setting that I have used for a pair of RPs, that followers and some others maybe familiar with.

******************************************************************************

The battle had ended, another realm conquered.  That had been the pattern so far.  The Holy Vanorian empire was an aggressive nation, it frequently attacked its neighbors without provocation.  They conquered because they could, to prove their strength, prove they had the blessings of the gods.  For the rewards that came with it too.  Land, gold, other wealth, and slaves.

Anyone could be made a slave, on the whim of a Vanorian lord.  Man, woman, or child.  Though the fates of each were different.  Men were sent to do the worst physical labor, field work, mining and such.  Women were taken primarily for sex, though they were given other tasks as well.

It was a long painful process, physical torture, frequent sex, with both humans and creatures.  Mental manipulation.  They were branded too, of course, to mark who they belonged to.  Eventually it lead to a breaking moment, when the slave gave up, many slaves called it a ‘spiritual orgasm’.  A moment of bliss, after which they became completely loyal to their masters.  Accepting their new place.

Analina was one of these women.  Another woman chosen for this fate in Vanoria’s most recent conquest.  Taken to the Capitol, auctioned off, purchased by one of the lords.  He took his time with her, manipulating her, the other women slaves in the house telling her how good it was.  A local priest insisting Vanoria and its strength was proof of divine approval.  He master alternating between pleasure and pain.  Sex and torture, rewarding willing obedience, harshly punishing the slightest hint of rebellion.

As was custom for such women, her rear had been branded with her master’s mark.  She had been kept chained.  It was not pleasant, it hurt so much.  Knowing she would be a thing for the rest of her life.  Yet over time, she felt it, a slow shift.  Happy to feel her master’s touch in bed, to hear his praise.  She hated herself for it.  But she grew curious, to feel the change.  What the other girls talked about.

How long had it been?  She could not say for sure.  Worse, she eventually saw and felt the signs.  She was carrying her master’s child.  If it was a daughter, she would go through these same things.  If it was son, he would likely be a slave too, but have a different life.

She was terrified and disgusted over this, to the point of tears.  When she ended up with the slave trainer, more accurately called a torturer, again.  She had been chained and bent over.  The now familiar pain of the whip sticking her over and over? What was she supposed to do?  How could raise a child like this?  How could she raise her?
 

She just felt like giving up, that was when the cracks finally broke.  What was the point, thinking for herself?  If she was a slave, her child was a slave.  She should the child, the child’s master was also his or her father.  This was right.  Maybe the gods had meant for her to go through this.  It was like a holy revelation.  Everything just snapped into place, it all felt so right, like she never had to worry again.  Just trust her master, let him decide everything.  Everyone had their place in the world.  Some deserved to be at the bottom, there was no shame in it.   Little as it was, she would her master, a very powerful man, show the world that Vanoria had the right idea, looking at their strength, she knew the whole world would someday see the truth.

Months later, she was sitting in her portion of the slave quarters.  Holding her recently born daughter.  Smiling, looking down on her.  Like mother like daughter.  The girl would be raised from birth, her father’s slave.  She would help teach the little girl.  Show her the happiness she found.  That this was their destiny and it was something to be proud of.  It would be painful at first, but she was sure her daughter would learn, just like she had.

[BigBadWolf]

Taken away from the embrace of his beloved mother with the proud look of his father, Michael was dragged from his home, selected and forced to join the kingdom’s royal army. But Michael was not the only teen to do so. Every year all sixteen-year-old boys are taken from their homes to be drafted into the military during the war. With nothing more than a helmet, sword, and shield, the shield bearing the mark of his kingdom, cheaply made, this was not a drafting of new recruits. These were simply bodies to add to the pile. The helmet was too big, taken most likely from a dead adult and thrown into the used pile to be recycled back into the army for the new soldier. The mothers stood out in the street as their sons were dragged to war, a war against the neighbouring kingdom that has been roaring for the last decade. Not three days drafted was he already out of on the battlefield. Stood shoulder to shoulder with the local boys from his town, some he knew personally, forced to fight for their kingdom. Fighting wouldn’t be a word to describe this situation. In the back lay the real army, well-armoured and well-geared, simply pawns on a chess board.

They stood at the bottom of a valley, forced to move forward to meet the enemy that had yet shown itself. The boys heard the horn of their general as they marched ahead, holding their swords and shield and a helmet roughly tightened to their heads with flimsy leather. Michael's eyes shivered, yet on instinct, his feet marched forward, staring at the hill before him before the sun that shined upon them began to darken quickly. Michael looked up to see the sun blocked by something dark, and he realised the arrows had blacked out the sun as it descends from the heavens. Most quickly raised their shields to cover themselves. Michael delayed, only saved by his friend Richard using his shield to raise. Both kneeled on the ground as screams and arrows pierced the wood. Only some of the shields provided are new. Most, if not nearly all, are used or rotted. Even some are perfectly blocking the arrows still pierced through effortlessly, killing them.

Michael saw the bodies around him drop. Richard hugged his shoulder, connecting their shields as they stood together. Richard smirked, patting his shoulder. Michael felt safe and smiled that he had his friend by his side. The arrows stop, and the general out of range in the back yells, “Get up that hill and meet them head on!!” The boys around them raised screaming and began to charge up the hill as Richard dragged Michael up and brought him with him. “If you fall behind, they will kill you. Come on!” He told Michael before Michael followed him like an older brother to their deaths. As they climbed, the bodies behind them became apparent. Seeing friends, he knew, eyes vast and soulless, shook him to his care. Closing his eyes, he continued. Another blackout in the sky was incoming, but they were quick. The angle was aimed past the hill. Only those towards the back go hit by the volley, and the moment they broke the hill's peak, they began to run down, using the dip to increase their momentum as the archers hid behind a frontline defence, using pikes expecting mounted calvary. 

The archers quickly began to re-arm and change towards the incoming ill-equipped troops. Some ran straight into the pikemen, unable to control their momentum and forced to impale themselves. The screams were almost childlike as they recklessly attacked the pikemen, who were a mix of teens and adults. Michael and Richard separated in the madness as the arrows flew at them. Some tried to run past the pikemen to go straight for the archers. The lack of archers turning their attention to shooting over the hill has allowed the main force to move over the hill and begin to join the teenagers getting slaughtered. The forces beyond the archers started to move forward. What was strange was the lack of a general guiding the enemy forces. Still, Michael was more concerned about finding Richard as he was forced to go through a pikeman that assaulted him, his pike making stabbing motions. At the same time, Michael could only use his shield to block. Thankfully, it was sturdier than most, his sword out of reach of the man, unable to try and swing. Tripping over a fallen troop, Michael fell on his back, making the Pikemen charge stand over him, ready to impale him but hesitating as the Adult realised he was simply looking at a child with a comprehensive eye, shock and horror. Still, the hesitation allowed Richard to come to the side to stab him through the neck and get Michael out of harm. 

Richard came over and lay beside him as screams and swords clashed and echoed around them, the whistling of arrows flying overhead as the primary forces joined the fray. This turned into an all-out warzone. He was trying to hide a wound during their time apart, getting a pike lodged into his side as Richard grabbed Michael's face with his bloody hand, leaving an imprint. “You need to fight. The more we kill, the quicker we can go home.” He said before Michael and Richard stood up and went back into battle. They both went through their forces as they targeted the remaining archers, hoping it would make things easier. With little to no armour, it was easy to stab and slash through them, but even when Michael gets a good stab into the guts of an archer, Richard had already killed three and still counting. Michael watched as the life left the eyes of the archer. Michael saw a knight's body among their corpses and began to pry off shoulder pads, gauntlets, and helmet. Richard came over to see what he was doing and smiled. “Good thinking!” He was about to join before a soldier struck Richard straight in the guts. Michael screamed as he launched the straight sword of a dead knight and cut the soldier's head clean. Richard fell to the ground with blood quickly starting to fill his lungs as intake of air was filled with blood as he tried to spew it out. Michael tried his best to hold the wound. But Richard gripped his shirt tight and leaned him in close “Live..” He whispered before dying in his arms. Michael tries to shake him awake, but he begins to weep softly, shaking his head as the weeping gets louder. Richard's eyes remained open and lifeless.

Michael starts to weep louder before it turns into screams of anger and pain as soldiers rush towards him. His eyes fill with rage, and he leaves his fallen friend among the pile of dead soldiers as he rushes after them, screaming the entire time, cutting them down with malice and hatred carried in his swings, going wild, blood drunk. Each that fell, another took its place as the army he was forced to join watched as the lone soldier marched forward, unable to be stopped. They followed him as if Michael was leading the forces behind him, motivated they charged. The battle raged on, each side losing countless, the fields grew quieter with each passing minute, and the archers seemed to focus on Michael thinking he was a general, even shooting their own to take a chance of hitting him. But some have made their mark, an arrow embedded into Michael's still carrying the courage and ferocity of his fallen friend. Still, exhaustion was starting to take his told, hands cut and torn from the swings of his bloodied blade, the arrow sticking out of his back made him a target for others, but what remained of the forces knew who this ‘man’ was that seemingly led the charge, even as the battle comes to its climax Michael swings became more out of desperation, the adrenaline that pumped through his body had but run dry, feeling the weight of the arrow in his back, only to receive a second arrow from a solider picking up a bow trying to take him down hitting his mark but Michael still stood but dragged his footsteps through the bodies of ally and foe alike. The soldier panicked that he still stood; fear set in as he wouldn’t die. Panicked, the enemy soldier tried to back away from Michael but fell as he tried to beg for mercy. Still, Michaels's eyes looked dead as he drove his sword through his heart only to get a third arrow in the back. Michael stood and turned to see the last two standing. Michael could barely stand as he only managed a single step before his grip broke, and he dropped his weapon. His knees feel heavy as he falls onto them, the final more solid approach pulling out his sword, ready to finish him off. 

Raising his sword to bring down the final blow on Michael hearing the familiar sound of a whistle, an arrow flew over Michael and hit the soldier in the head. Not able to turn the sound of hoofs as the cavalry decided to see the aftermath of this battle, even the king rode among them as they surrounded Michael. The king dismounted as the crows began to flock from the heavens to feast among the dead. The king removed the helmet to see a young boy. “A mere boy lead my army to victory? Take this boy home. Tonight we celebrate a boy who led the king's army to glory” The men around him cheered for Michaels's victory. He was taken home as a hero. The boy enters the battlefield as a mere pawn but leaves as a king.

[Aura]

img src: 纸箱纸 on Pixiv

I thought things would be different when I married that man. The only thing I knew was that he was wealthy and my family would be furious with me if I’d passed up the opportunity. We could finally escape from poverty, make something of ourselves again. I married him for them. Love wasn’t for me, that’s what I told myself. I don’t know how I came to that conclusion or why, I guess it was just to make myself feel better about marrying myself off for nothing more than money for my family. Little did I know they’d somehow spin this whole situation around against me. Like I’d suddenly forgotten where I’d come from. It’s not my fault I never get to go home. It’s theirs, they pushed me away from home demanding I make things better for them and I tried. I try so hard to make things better.

I was sitting in an empty piano room, tapping my fingers into the keys at random as tears stained my cheeks. Once upon a time, I wanted to be a musician. I wanted to make beautiful works of art through song that could move the hearts of others and inspire action. Now I barely had the energy to string a chord together. I’ve forgotten everything I used to know. It’s all been replaced with posture and how to speak eloquently so as not to embarrass my husband. How to serve his needs in bed, to stand in such a way that my breasts look bigger and more pronounced without looking silly. How to squeeze into dresses that are two sizes too small just because he likes the way my body looks in them. It’s such an easy job, after all. I just have to breathe, look beautiful, and agree to everything he says. It’s a job anyone would be a fool to turn down, right? But why does it have to be a job at all? I never get to clock out and go home. This is my home. Why does it feel like a prison?

“Would you like me to play a song, Lady Daphne?”

The voice suddenly breaking the silence startled me at first, but it didn’t need to. It was quite soft and soothing. The voice of one of our dearest maidservants.

“Ah, Clara,” I cleared my throat and instinctively sat up, as if trying my best to hide any sense that I wasn’t regal at all times. I dared not look back at her out of concern she might see the streaks on my cheeks once my face left the shadows of the piano. “No, no, that won’t be necessary…”

The woman slowly approached me from behind. It was clear she could tell something was wrong, she was always very skilled at this. “Well then, may I…?”

I paused for a moment and nodded. “As you wish.” The young woman proceeded to reach her arms around me and began to tap the keys. Her delicate fingers glided gracefully across the keys as she began to tap out a series of notes that I soon recognized. “Ain’t no Sunshine” by Bill Withers. The graceful way she stroked the keys caused the piano to resonate with the whole room, and with me still sitting in the seat in front of her, for a brief moment I could close my eyes and imagine it was me playing the music. It was a song my father used to play, he used to sing the lyrics, too, and tell me it made him think of my mother. Such a sweet tune. He truly loved her… Before I knew it, my tears grew in size and my sobbing in volume. Where Clara was graceful, I was anything but. Another failure, but she didn’t seem to mind. She didn’t correct me or tell me I musn’t cry like the other maidservants would. She just kept playing and I swear I felt her arms squeeze me tighter.

“Clara,” I finally spoke, my voice shaking. She continued playing, but she responded.

“Yes, Lady Daphne?”

“Do you… love anyone?”

She paused for a moment, and in that moment, she stopped playing and I had a moment of panic. Had I said something wrong that upset her? But just as quickly as she’d stopped, she’d resumed playing. “I suppose I do…”

“I see…” I bit my lip, this was entirely unprofessional of me. This was no way I should be speaking with my maid. And yet, she was so easy to speak to. “...I wish I could say the same.”

I expected a correction. Something like “Oh, you mustn’t say such things, aren’t you married?” Instead, the girl just continued playing. She seemed almost amused, like a mother speaking with her child. A strange tone, given she was a few years younger than myself. “Master Carson doesn’t strike your fancy, I see.”

“He doesn’t.” I just looked down to watch her hands continue to glide along the keys, every stroke echoing in my ears.

“Then you wish to get away?”

“Huh? N-no, he’s done so much for me…”

“Has he?” The question completely caught me off guard. “Please excuse my discourtesy, but may I ask, what was it that made you wish to marry Master Carson in the first place?”

“I thought it would help my family back home…”

“Did it?”

“Well, no, but…”

Clara’s hands soon met mine on top of the piano and I could feel my heart beat faster… what… what was going on here? She began to guide my hands along the keyboard and began to show me how to play the song. Before long, I began to uncover the muscle memory long forgotten and my fingers were able to play the song in her stead. I couldn’t help but smile to myself, all the same as the first time I was able to do it as a little girl. I was so ecstatic I couldn’t wait to show my parents… but if I were to show my husband, no doubt he’d just find something to criticize. It’s not ladylike to be so excited or something like that.

“Clara,”

“Yes, Lady Daphne?”

“Who is it this song makes you think of? Is it someone who loves you back?”

“I’m not sure if they love me back…” As she spoke, she slowly pulled the chair out from under me, forcing me to stand up. I quickly found myself blushing as I felt her hands move down to my hips and give them a gentle squeeze. “But perhaps… we could find the answer to that question together?”

“C-Clara!”

“Yes, Lady Daphne?”

“P-please…” I was a blushing mess already, I couldn’t believe what was happening, but my heart was fluttering inside of my chest. What was this…? I’d never so much as considered being in love with another woman before, much less… here… “Just call me Daphne.” My hands lifted from the piano keyes and met hers on my hips.

“I see… I believe Master Carson hasn’t truly been doing his job as a husband or a lover, don’t you agree?”

“I…”

“There is no need to speak anymore, Daphne.” Her voice lowered to a sultry whisper as I felt her hot breath over my neck, causing my whole body to shiver with excitement as I felt her hands begin to explore my body. Her right hand reached around to slip under my dress. “You are not in love with him, Daphne, as far as I’m concerned, there is no marriage to be preserved. He sees you as no different than any other maid and as such, I suppose that makes us equals, doesn’t it?”

What she said… made far too much sense. It made me want to throw up at the mere thought of my husband. I leaned against the piano as she continued to massage my breast, both of our left hands held us up. Her body rode up against mine and it felt like my body temperature had doubled.

“I can leave a mark on you, Daphne. And Master Carson will see it, and he will be jealous because he will see that you have truly experienced love. He will try to trouble you, but… I will serve you and only you.”

“No, Clara…” I corrected her, my heart racing and my breath held captive by my tongue. “We are equals. Mark me and let it be known that we are not just lovers, but that I shall serve you, as well. You’ve convinced me. My loyalty lies with you.”

No more words were necessary, before I knew it, I felt a sharp sting in my neck as Clara bit down, drawing blood and fueling my arousal. A faint blue light glew from the bite mark as her teeth pulled back. “Then with this seal, you are now my servant. You are freed from the bondage of your marriage and now it is our lives that are married together.” Clara’s voice suddenly felt so powerful and commanding and I loved every breath she released.

I couldn’t hold back any longer, neither of us could. Before we knew it, our lips had met in the faint light of the piano room, then our tongues. In only a matter of minutes, I had experienced more love than Carson had given me my entire life. For once in my life, it didn’t matter at all what anyone else wanted. This was what I wanted.

[IsabellaRose]

Okay. The votes are in, 2 people tied with 3 votes each, and 2 more tied with 1 vote each.

I usually combine prizes and split them up - in this case 1st & 2nd place combined for the first two people with the most votes, then split evenly between them. The two people with 1 vote each will split the remaining prize, in this case, third place. I hope that makes sense to everyone.

So I'll combine 1st prize 2,000 and 2nd prize 1,000 for a total of 3,000 split evenly between @Starcry & @SataiRolePlayingGuy for 1,500 each.

Then split 3rd place 500 evenly between @BigBadWolf & @Aura for 250 each.