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Interacting with: @PrinceAlexus, @Echotech71
“You will continue the rite, Sorrowind.”
The wind was ripped from her lungs as she felt a man’s foot slam into her stomach, sending her into a fit of coughing. The damp cobblestone floor rushed up to meet her as she collapsed under his boot. The taste of copper flickered across her tongue as splinters of pain shot through her lungs with each breathless wheeze.
And even in her current state of physical and mental exhaustion, Katherine looked up to her assailant with a weak grin on her face.
“Is this--” She let out a deep, raspy cough. “Is this how you get off… … beating o-on women until t-they bend to your w-will?”
Her comment was met in reply with a bucket of ice water from somewhere behind her, before the man in view knelt down fully into her vision. A hand reached towards her and rested on her abdomen, the pain disappearing almost immediately as she felt the all-too familiar sensation of healing magic. She’d learned to hate the feeling. Katherine had lost count of the time they’d spent in this dance. Hours, days, perhaps even a week. The darkness betrayed her sense of time. The routine had not changed at all, though how much longer her mind would last was a mystery to her.
It was a form of torture that she’d been taught about before. A particularly wicked method involving bringing the subject close to death before healing them just enough to do it all over again. A particularly cruel specialty of the Inquisition, it seemed.
Her limbs shook violently as she pushed herself up, from both physical exhaustion and what was likely early hypothermia. The two shadowy figures stood motionless, now in her peripheral vision. Though she couldn’t see him, she knew her father was also watching from somewhere. It was his sick and twisted ambition that had put her in this position to begin with.
Before her, visible through the hair that had matted itself to her face, the corpse of her mother was laid out on a table.
Fire ran through her veins as a different voice echoed from the darkness. Her father’s voice.
“Again, Katherine.”
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The gentle flicker of the fire danced in her eyes as Katherine laid on the wooden floor of her chambers. The memory had faded away as quickly as it had come, though leaving her feeling just as helpless. The same feeling of weakness she’d felt before was ever-present now, though lacking the accompanying pain. Her body was almost completely limp as Daphne began manipulating her arms through her fur-coat sleeves, letting the warmth of the flames reach her much more easily. Katherine felt a familiar weak grin spread across her lips as Daphne spoke to her, cheeks gently flushing at her final comment.
“Katherine S-sorrowind… a-at your s-service.” Her voice was barely louder than a whisper. “Everything I own… … in the crate. Behind you.”
Katherine’s eyes wandered up to Daphne’s face as she worked, then to Nathaniel behind her. She watched him for a moment as he tended to Persephone, her eyes following his movements as he seemed to conjure water from nothing and dismiss it just as easily.
Her eyes then settled once again on the rippling flames of the fireplace. Relaxation finally began to set in, and her breathing and heart rate followed suit. The spots that had lived in her vision for what felt to be a veritable eternity had finally gone away.
Only one thing remained at the center of her attention. The body. Katherine hoped that the sage’s close proximity to the body during their walk back hadn’t revealed any remnants of her… talk. This entire situation was getting more complicated than intended. She needed to figure out a way to control it, and fast. One person being suspicious was enough, especially because that certain someone happened to be the Prince. She didn’t need a sage reporting back to him with more damning information.
With a gentle breath, she drew on some of what little energy she had left to speak just loud enough for Nathaniel to hear her.
“Thank you both for your help.”