My eyes shot open and I sat up looking at my surroundings in a daze. Where was I? I was in a yurt room that was covered in plush furs, lanterns hung overhead washing the room in warm light. Among them hung decorative metal bowls that filled the air with the smoky scent of wood, herbs, and iron. The room gave me a feeling of calm but I was still confused. This wasn't the room where we had met the High Shaman.

I cast my eyes around and saw my brothers were all there, slowly waking up as well, but then I caught sight of the large form in the corner. It was our mother. I rushed to her side, she laid on her back on a pile of soft furs, she was dressed once again in leather work gloves, boots, and satchels. She was also clothed in a new deel, but this one had been altered so that the piece that covered her torso now exposed her mid-drift.

My eyes traveled down to the exposed skin and fell on the puckered red scar that started just above her navel, trailed down her stomach, and ended just above the waistline of her skirt. Seeing the scar I immediately knew what it meant, I didn't know where the knowledge came from, but there was no doubt in my mind it was true. My mother would never bear children again. Tears came unbidden to my eyes and I swiped at them but they wouldn't stop, a stream of curses came muttered from my lips. The more I tried to control it the worse it became until I was sobbing uncontrollably over my mother.

Suddenly her eyes shot open. I began to cry again, this time out of relief and happiness, what the High Shaman had done had not taken my mother's life. We had not been left alone to fend for ourselves. Just as I moved forward to try and embrace her I was stopped by a sudden strike to my face. The slap held so much force it actually sent me flying across the room and crashing into the far wall.

When I made contact with it I realized we were still in the bone yurt, as beneath the fur lining I felt the rigid bone wall, my collision was not dampened by the fur coverings. They might as well have been made of solid stone. I felt my bones crack with a sickening snap before I fell to the ground. I lay there frozen in shock, it felt like an eternity before I was even able to take my first strangled breath. My body felt like it was on fire and razor-sharp spikes were being driven into every bone. I was confused as to how I was still awake, desperately hoping unconsciousness would take me and I could find some release from the pain. But it didn't come.

You have been targeted by: Pain Intensification of the Torturer

Tier difference multiplies this effect

Pain sensation has been magnified by twenty. Vibrations in your body have also been magnified. Your health cannot drop below one as you will bleed and heal at the same rate. You are unable to fall unconscious. Your basic senses will not be impaired. This effect will last as long as the caster decides.

I read the popup bewildered. Pain Intensification of the Torturer? What Torturer? The word brought images of people in masks with blades and shackles, there was no one like that in this room. But then who had struck me? It had happened so quickly, one moment I was sitting beside mother, and then . . .

Realization hit me almost as hard as the wall had. It was mother, she had struck me and she was the one who had cast this spell. My eyes widened and I became aware of my surroundings, my brothers with panic-stricken expressions began to crowd around me. But on the far side of the room, my mother stood and walked toward where I lay helplessly on the ground.

“As my eldest, you must never cry where others can see or hear,” Mother's voice was hard and sharp as a freshly honed blade, and my brothers shrunk away as she approached.

“You will learn this now as a child, and as an adult bear, the scarring inflicted by this moment of weakness. If you conquer this trauma, you will be stronger for it.” Urana now stood over me and glowered at my broken body her eyes burning. If I had the strength I would have attempted to run, but I couldn't even crawl and was left helpless under her gaze.

“Crying for me, when I have sacrificed, is a dishonor that I will make sure you understand and never forget. Honor those who make sacrifices for your sake.” Her voice raised in intensity, sounding like a booming thunderclap and heat wafted off her body as if she were a living furnace.

Then she knelt down beside me, the fire that seemed to come from inside her when she was enraged was gone, and she gently placed a finger on my forehead. I expected the pain radiating from every part of my body to stop, assuming she had decided I had suffered enough and was healing me. But the pain did not stop, if anything it seemed to increase.

I looked at my mother confused, wanting to ask her what was happening, but nothing came from my throat but ragged breathing and faint cries of pain at the exertion that was breathing. Tears fell from my eyes and they felt like boiling water as they dripped down my face. Another red pop-up appeared before my eyes.

You have been inflicted with: Torturer's Contract Branding

Tier difference multiplies this effect

All effects by the caster/ those in their command will be dispelled upon completing their request/condition

Stop crying/weeping/whining/whimpering for 5 minutes

I read the notice and Urana's words sank in. This was the 'trauma' I was meant to endure. My body felt like it was being thrown against the wall over and over again, but I stayed rooted to the same spot. I could feel my bones as they broke and knitted back together, my organs felt like they were ground up into minced meat and then melted and forced back into shape.

Between ragged breaths, coughs racked my body and blood flowed from my mouth, deep cuts opened and closed all over my skin soaking me and the furs beneath in blood. A few of my brothers stepped forward to try and help me but they were quickly stopped by a strike from our mother. She did not use anywhere near the same force as when she struck me, but it still sent them sprawling to the ground.

“Do not interrupt! Your sister must face this trial alone. To interfere with her struggle and growth would disrespect and shame her!” She stared my brothers down and that was enough for them to shrink back. At least most of them, Malkadian stood up from where he had been sent sprawling, his face was swollen and he spat blood onto the floor.

He glared at Urana and prepared to take another step toward me but I managed to catch his eye. Knowing Mal he would keep charging to my aid until mother left him as battered and bloody as I was, but it wouldn't help me, only harm him. Summoning all the strength I could manage I shook my head at him. Malkadian's expression was a mixture of defiance, rage, and pain.

But finally, he gritted his teeth and stepped back to stand with the rest of our brothers, giving our mother a look that was pure venom. I was touched by his willingness to face punishment to come to my aide, but it was for the best. There was only one way out of this. Filled with determination fueled by spite and defiance I forced the tears to stop and my voice to quiet.

I bit my lip with such force it split and blood dripped from my mouth, I was resolute to not let a sound come from my throat or a tear from my eye. Five minutes was objectively a short amount of time, but with every second seaming to stretch out endlessly with the excruciating pain, it might as well have been an eternity. But I had to endure, it was the only way for it to end.

I tried to distract myself from the pain by focusing on other things, the fur beneath my hands, the smell of incense, anything at all. But only one thing seemed to occupy my mind. The blinding rage at the woman I called 'mother'. I couldn't understand why she was doing this to me. I was her child, she was supposed to take care of me not kill me! All I had done was cry, it wasn't even over something trivial, I was afraid she was dead! How could she be so cruel to her own daughter for caring about her?!

'No,' I thought to myself. 'She has always been cruel. She threatened us with the paddle for stupid reasons, was harsh and critical of how we acted, she hardly even let us outside!' I fumed to myself as I thought back on all the things she had put me through. 'How can she even call herself a mother?! In my old world mothers who acted like this were-' I froze before I finished the thought.

My old world. This whole time I had been judging not only her, but everyone and everything, by the standards I remembered from my past life. But that wasn't where we were, this place, this world, had its own people, history, and rules. This whole time it was as if I had been seeing everything through the tinted glass but it was suddenly clearer.

Memories flooded my mind, the night we were attacked and mother protected us, Deetra, a loyal friend, abandoned her because of the children she decided to keep. A rich family that was forced to live on the outskirts of the camp and forbidden from even entering the inner circle. A father that never able to see his own children.

'Weakness is its own kind of curse.' my mother's words from so long ago filled my mind. Our people were warriors, they were proud and honorable and valued strength above all else. Our mother had given part of her body, her future, for us.

My tears had disrespected that sacrifice. We weren't meant to pity or wallow over what she did, we were meant to respect it and use it as fuel to help us push forward. I had been blinded by my desire to take back the memories and the life I had lost, and I forgot I had to learn to live in this world first. If I wanted to survive I needed to learn and be strong, it was the only way I could ever hope to see the one I left behind.

Finally, I felt the horrific pain lessen. My bones cracked and shifted back into place, I realized that in several spots they had pierced my skin but they now retreated back inside my body. The burning inside me stopped and I could feel my organs solidify and shift back into their proper place.

Looking down at the ground where I had coughed up blood I saw that there were chunks of flesh mixed in as well. I shuddered, unsure of how I wasn't dead, and silently swore to myself to become strong enough that I would never find myself at the mercy of a Torturer ever again. I was suddenly struck with a thought. Why did my mother have abilities designed for torture? I was about to voice the question when my mother picked me up and brought me to a stool next to a shallow bucket.

Placing me on the stool she stripped off my deel, shoes, and jewelry. She dipped a cloth into the shallow bucket and began cleaning the blood from my skin, the water was warm and smelled of spices and I felt myself relax as all my tensed muscles loosened. A red window filled my vision.

Pre-tier Milestone Achieved!

Be afflicted by magic

Congratulations!

You have completed the Seventh Pre-tier Milestone!

You are awarded 5% Growth. You are now at 72% growth.

Your attributes and size will be finished adjusting within 10 seconds.

I would have laughed at the notification if I wasn't so utterly exhausted. My mother then rooted around in her satchel and produced a Dwart Blood Stick which she handed to me. I gratefully took it and ate it in silence as my mother diligently cleaned every drop of blood from myself and my clothing.