[Amelia Lynsdaughter]

On top of the stone altar, the girl's naked body felt so rigid that even shaking in terror proved impossible. Even if she had been able to move, however, she was fully resigned to her death, and she could face any kind of ritual murder. Or so she thought, naively. Truth was, she had prepared herself for death, but nothing could have prepared her for this. Expecting a blade to slice her throat, or stab and expose her still beating heart, being left alive at the end of this performance did not number among the scenarios she had considered.

After Shiandi bound her with straps, natural instinct took over, making her wrlggle a little to find out how much maneuvering space she had left. Not much; in fact, next to none. All the while Amelia was fighting the tears back in a final display of pride in front of her father, but of course it wasn't easy at all, resigned or not. At this point, though, the Half-elf figured Shiandi would pull out the knife and end her life. Great was, therefore, her shock upon seeing the Outlander stand naked by the altar, and for an instant she doubted her eyes. That was when she realized this was going to be neither quick nor painless. And above all, this was going to humiliate her to the last second.

'Why? Why? WHY?' the question spun obsessively inside the Outlaw's head as she watched the rite from her unfavorable position as best she could. What had she done to warrant such cruelty? Then Shiandi produced a rooster, and Amelia knew it would be sacrificed soon, though the purpose of such she could not tell. The creation of a circle confirmed her suspicion that the rite resembled that of ghost summoning to a degree, but by this time her mind was busy reciting shallow prayers to the gods. Shallow because she knew she didn't stand a chance at entering Aetheria after her crimes and meddling in a forbidden art.

She could feel Shiandi's chant pick up and her breathing, already uneven, became clearly ragged with fear as she waited for it to reach its zenith. Amelia wanted to close her eyes and just drift into nothingness, and yet she could not help but watch wide-eyed, only to let out the first, stifled, squeal as she felt the rooster's warm blood and innards fall on her naked body, bringing back memories of other warm blood on her hands. But this was still child's play next to what came next. She had never been touched by a man in an intimate way before, and Shiandi broke psychological barriers that were not for her to cross by painting her body in blood; the consequences of which would surely leave long-lasting scars on her. Amelia had been lucky enough to never suffer the atrocity called rape, but in that moment she was sure this must be what it felt like to be violated. The same feeling of helplessness... the same feeling of being dirty.

Pure terror in her eyes and a furious red on her cheeks, her body and face became a canvas for Shiandi's art as even Father wriggled within, as though rebelling against the witch's touch. A second shriek and then a third and a fourth followed when the black woman licked the blood off her stomach, and unfortunately not because she was ticklish (even though she was) but out of disgust - what a sick and indecent way to leave the Material Plane! Amelia had hoped Shiandi would at least keep it clean, but clearly things had turned out a little differently. Even a two-Crown slut would have found it shameful, let alone someone like Amelia who masked her lack of self-confidence behind an act of flawless looks and manners!

What next? What other humiliation did the Adjurator have in store for her? She found out soon enough, her blue eyes being wide open just when Shiandi spat the contents of her mouth in her face. Then, as her eyes burned as though they'd been poked out with a hot iron, she had a gag reflex and for the first time she could not control her actions, hands trying to reach her head to wipe the vile fluids off her face, screaming. Needless to say, it only hurt her wrists and nothing more. Hot tears of pain and shame streaked to the sides of her head; and then, only then, did Shiandi proceed to the last act of the ritual, the climax of such a dark application of her craft.

Pain. Pain like she'd never experienced before. She screamed, a scream to make the previous ones pale. She screamed to the top of her lungs. She screamed for her life and dignity, life juice seeping from her tongue, one of the most sensitive parts of a humanoid body. Finally, a bucket of cold water washed some of the filth away from her eyes and she could see again.

'This will let you see the world as we see it' Shiandi had said once. She had wandered back then, how did one become one of them. Now she knew, and her newly empowered eyes stared at the four ghosts that pinned both girl and ghost-Father in place. It wasn't a healthy look, though, she had the eyes of a broken doll. She still felt helpless and dirty. She was a shaking, crying, and sobbing mass of terror and shame. Amelia's tongue would likely swell now, but she didn't really care.

A broken doll. Staring at some point of the vault over her head, the girl just wouldn't stop crying. Shiandi had not prepared her for that. A few words of warning would have been enough, if such a rite could not be helped. But Shiandi had taken away a piece of her innocence without a second thought. Why hadn't she told her anything before? Why such gratuitous cruelty?

As Amelia's naked body, now streaked with blood and sweat, began to calm and the sobs to soften, a dull joy for being alive bloomed from her fear. And from that joy and fear combined, a tiny spark of hate was born.