Hello, it has been a while. Life is starting to settle down a little bit, so I have some more free time. I found myself writing more for this story, so here's another chapter.

I can't say I'll be putting out frequent or consistent chapters, but another one may pop up from time to time.

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I lazily gazed into the flames as I leaned back in my chair. Everyone needs a little time to relax, and what better way to do it than by sitting next to a warm fire and taking a nap. I let my eyes flutter to close as I produced a sloppy grin. The place isn’t too bad either. I took a good look at the surroundings after rousing myself from my nap. The room was quite lavishly decorated, with ornament adorning the walls and a lovely beige carpet covering the floor. The couch (which happened to be the location of my nap) was also divinely soft. Thank Sol for comfortable furniture.

Who would have thought that in the end it was actually an aristocrat who had incited the resistance against the church? I certainly wouldn’t have. Haven’t we always had a good relationship with nobles? They give us money… and we do churchy stuff. It’s a relationship that works. I looked over to the fireplace and yawned, feeling sleep beginning to overcome me again. Regular fire hadn’t really done the job so I had to use a bit of magic to aid the process, but the result was nice; the scorched bones really accentuate the atmosphere. Had a hard time cramming that fellow into the fireplace though, but a few broken bones later and all was well. At least he was joined by his family soon after.

The entire ordeal had turned out somewhat insignificant in the end; just a few fools attempting to bring about change. Why change anything? I’m pretty happy with the current climate of the kingdom. If they want change, they should go over to the Lunar kingdom; it’s only a bit further south, and those guys accept any and all refugees. The main religion worships the moon goddess over there, and in general, said religion sucks. No torture, no burning, and they don’t even accept brib-unofficial donations.

I slowly rolled off of the couch and began to head to the exit. It was about time I headed back; the little chase took around 4 days in the end.

…

…

…

Okay…

Inn burned down, check.

Companions nowhere to be seen, check.

A little owl screeching in my ear about a kidnapping, check.

Looks like they just took a break from adventuring and went somewhere to rela- OUCH! I glared at the owl which had ferociously attacked my unguarded ear.

Cyne, they were taken.

Who?

Melissa, the heroes and their companions.

…Who?- OUCH! Another attack. I let out a self-depreciating smile. I’d just finished chasing after heretics and now I’ve got to go and track down the heroes? Why can life not be a simple compilation of heretic burnings and the like? Is that too much to ask? No, it isn’t.

Aren’t you concerned over your slave at the very least? Asked an owl whose glare was currently burning a hole through my head. Since when did she get attached to the lizard-dog-girl-thing? Man, such troubling situations just seem to love me.

After releasing a pent up sigh, I moved onto the task at hand. So, who kidnapped them?

People in grey cloaks

Not much to go on, but ok… Which way did they go?

Serenity’s head sharply turned due south. The kingdom of Lun? I don’t have any authority over there… Is it really worth it?... The kingdom would probably be rather irritated if I didn’t take action wouldn’t they?

Whilst pondering my options I quickly stepped backwards so as to avoid the numerous daggers flying my way. To my left, perched up on an adjacent building was a grey cloaked individual. Surprisingly enough, there was only one. That attack looked lethal, so the kidnappers most likely didn’t want to kidnap me. I… I feel kind of left out. To add to that, they though one of them was enough to take care of me? Really? Ughh!

Okay, time to pay attention; a dagger definitely just pierced my lung. I looked towards the previously thrown daggers and was rather miffed to see them all hurtling towards me. I twisted out of their paths but was dismayed to notice the silver wires attached to them. Turns out someone was manipulating them from a distance. Quite unusual, but nevertheless very deadly. Using a solid kick I managed to dodge the trailing wires as they converged on my previous position. Yep, that would’ve made minced meat out of me.

After making a clean exit from the entrapment, the grey cloaked individual began hurtling towards me, a numerous wires glinting as they exited from under the cloak. This fellow was rather skilled; enough to take down most elite warriors at any rate. I released a wisp of darkness which speedily trailed towards the incoming individual, entering the hood of their cloak. The cloaked attacker immediately collapsed, a faint snoring drifting from there now motionless body. That was rather strange… the spell was quite a bit faster and more effective than usual. Hehehe… maybe that deal with the creepy disembodied voice had more perks than I originally thought.

Despite the spell being more effective than usual, shouldn’t the attacker have been able to dodge? It was pitch black after all; not exactly hard to miss… but then again that was its only characteristic, so if you don’t see it, you can’t detect it. Hmm…

I walked over to the cloaked individual and slung them over my shoulder. They were extremely light, and now looking closer the individual was quite petite and slender. Whatever… time for some interrogation!

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Beautiful…

She… she’s a work of art.

The wires were sown into her skin. Her mouth, eyes and even lady parts all sown shut with this silver wires. This mutilation of the human body, was so creative! Who was the genius behind this?! We need to exchange notes! Imagine the good we do together! Wait… how does she eat? Whatever.

The girl herself was quite beautiful as well with white hair and skin bordering on translucency. Her age appeared to be that of maybe a teenager? Not too sure; she’s relatively petite, standing at only 1m 50cm, but she seems to have developed relatively well despite her slender frame. Her skin was all the more beautiful with numerous pale scars crisscrossing over it. I slowly caressed each blade mark and whip injury gently, taking in the texture and shivering in delight. She was a beautiful creation; although I tend to prefer short and snappy moments of art, this work that had clearly been cultivated over who knows how many years was just too incredible. The pain, the suffering, the burns… I took a moment to calm myself down.

Of course, it wasn’t as if I had intended to gaze upon her naked body, it’s just that the cloak was the only thing she had been wearing. I… I can’t interrogate her; one wrong move and I could completely destroy the synergy of her scars! Any imperfection would be a tragedy! I continued to ponder how to get the information I needed out of her. Oh, looks like she woke up!

The masterpiece began to struggle against the restraints on her arms and legs, but unfortunately, strength wasn’t her strongest attribute. Ignoring her struggling, I just continued to caress each and every beautiful mark on her skin. The girl tried to shrink away from my touch, like a frightened animal; I wonder if she had ever been contacted in a non-violent way? I mean, I can’t do anything without ruining art here, so she shouldn’t be so afraid.

I continued to stroke her wounds and admire her body as I contemplated how to proceed. Serenity had left as soon as I had said it was time for interrogation, speaking of which, I had borrowed the barracks cells again. As I continued delicately tracing my fingers over the captive, the shying away ceased and every time I made contact with her skin a small shiver ran down her body. Her face despite being neatly stitched up managed to show a confused expression. As far as I could tell, all of those wires did a great job of restricting facial expression, running through numerous muscles responsible for such actions under the skin.

“You really are beautiful” I whispered into her ear. She has definitely entered my top ten works of art.

Her expression grew more confused but her struggling had completely ceased at this point, her body had even begun to try and draw closer to my caresses. Whether this was voluntary or involuntary was unknown to me but who cares. It was very relaxing. I ended up just sitting there for almost an hour, caressing the art and even voicing my praise on occasion.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

How am I supposed to get information without torture? I was never taught how to deal with such a situation… She can’t speak either… I started my internal struggle as of whether or not to cut the wires enclosing her mouth. It would be a waste, but it had to be done; without information, the heroes were as good as gone, and who knows how much trouble I would be in. I sighed before fetching a scalpel from my bag.

I walked over to the still restrained individual and began placed the scalpel to her lips, pulling against the wire that held her silence. As I drew the blade across her mouth, each stitch snapped one by one, unable to hold up against my well-kept equipment. As I proceeded, the girl began to struggle again, a fearful expression once again dominating her face. I leaned down and whispered into her ear.

“Why so scared? I just want to talk…”

With those few simple words, she began to relax, although still visibly uncomfortable with the situation. As the scalpel reached the other end of her mouth the job was done. Her mouth then opened, as she sucked in a deep breath. She continued to open and close her mouth, as though the sensation was completely foreign to her. It was somewhat amusing… The sensation I was experiencing from observing her wasn’t the usual exhilarating thrill of burning someone alive or interrogating a heretic. The right word would be fascinated… I am fascinated by her; her appearance sent shivers of delight down my spine. I kind of want to keep her…

I gazed at her, taking in every detail of her actions as she experimented at moving her lips and tongue. I once again absent-mindedly traced my finger along a silvery-white scar running across her abdominal region. The action which had previously been met with silence, elicited a sharp gasp from the girl. Her voice was raspy, no doubt from lack of use. It somewhat reminds me of how heretics would eventually lose their voices after a bit too much interrogation.

“Hello there, I’m Cyne.”

“…” She opened and then closed her mouth hesitantly.

“No need to be shy. I won’t hurt you…”

“…” Once again I was met by silence.

“Not used to talking? Come on, I’d love to hear your voice some more; I’m sure it’s just as lovely as you are.”

“……” The sweet-talking was met with silence once again, although the girl showed and awkward and unsure expression when I’d called her ‘lovely’.

“Okay, let’s try again. I’m Cyne, who are you?” I tried asking a direct question instead of beating around the bushes and happily enough, got a reply.

“I’m… a… mess..en..ger… of… god…” she rasped. Which god? Sol?

“Which god would that be?”

“The… true… god…, Lun”

Seriously? She’s a follower of the moon goddess? Wait… Wait a moment! Their religion must be better than I first thought if they can produce masterpieces like this. Perhaps they’re simply more secretive with the way they deal with heretics…

“Do you have a name?” Let’s begin with introductions.

“…No… Not… need..ed”

“Why do you not need a name?”

“Am… tool… of… god…”

That’s a rubbish excuse; I’m technically a tool of god and I still have a name.

“Just because you’re a tool doesn’t mean you don’t need a name.”

“…are… you… sure?” She exhibited a confused expression. Clearly she hadn’t actually conversed with someone before. Likely she had simply been told things, and with no way to respond, her ability to develop and learn were limited. With mouths forcibly closed, questions could never be asked… That’s a pretty good strategy, although a tad ruthless; those who serve god should be rewarded, not sentenced to silence… but I guess things are just different for these backwards heretics.

“I’m positive. Everybody needs a name.”

“… I… think… I… had… a…name… can’t… re..mem..ber”

“Well, how about I call you Silk?” It suited the silvery wires that ran through her skin.

"ok..."

“So, why did you attack me earlier?” I asked.

“…or..ders…”

“Whose orders?”

“…”

“Not going to say? It’s a shame, I do like your voice. Speaking of which, why did you even begin to answer my questions?”

“…Haven’t… spoken… for… long… time. Wan..ted… to speak… with… some..one…”

“Do you really believe in your god?” Might as well test her so called devotion. In response to my question she quickly became frightened, and hurriedly answered.

“…yes…”

Well that wasn’t too convincing. It would appear that she’s had the fear of her heretic god deeply rooted into her. This kind of devotion however, was often the easiest to destroy; all you needed was to assure them safety; to convince them that everything before were just cruel actions of heretics and not gods. It would be best to begin by tempting her; it would seem that the wires closing up her orifices were likely part of her religion, separating her from communicating or interacting with the outside world; unable to experience many of life’s pleasures.

“Would you like to see?”

Her response was fear as she desperately began to shrink away from my voice at such a suggestion.

“It’s not a sin if I’m the one who gives you back your sight; you’d be doing nothing wrong. You would only be a victim.”

Her struggling became less as she clearly pondered my point. Eventually she settled down submissively. These heretics really need to train their soldiers better; the girl is far too trusting, but then again, I’m probably the first person who she’s talked to in a long time.

As I drew my scalpel to her eyelids she lay motionless, showing know resistance, but not actively seeking the ability to see once again. I slowly cut the wires that shrouded her world in darkness. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked around the room curiously, and finally her gaze rested on my smiling visage.

“Hello”

She just stared at me in silence. Her eyes were a dull and lifeless grey, but the colour suited the atmosphere her entire appearance already gave.

“How does it feel?”

“…good.. I think…”

She craned her head to look down at herself, her eyes turning into saucers as she observed her body. She began to tremble and tears started to form in the corners of her newly opened eyes.

“Hmm… why are you crying?” How odd. While her body may pleasing in an artistic sense perhaps she didn’t fully appreciate its splendour. Perhaps comforting her will open her up to me a little more.

She froze as I traced my fingers down the scars that crisscrossed her skin.

“You really are beautiful”

Her gaze left her body and returned to my face once again. She stared at me, dumbfounded. Her body was definitely an acquired taste, but she shouldn’t look so surprised; it almost feels as though she’s making fun of my preferences in art. After a while she turned her head away, refusing to make eye contact again. Oh dear, perhaps my comment made her feel uncomfortable… Whatever. I continued to caress the whip lashes on her arms as I continued the conversation, her body shivering upon contact.

“Doesn’t it feel good to see and to speak?”

She started to shake in fear.

“Don’t worry. You’re doing no wrong; there aren’t any sins in your actions.”

The trembling lessened but it was clear that her fear was still present. A fear of her heretic god. The only god people should fear is Sol.

“Do you believe in your god?” I asked the question for the second time.

She instantly replied with a “yes”

“Was it his will that you live your life is a tool?”

She nodded hesitantly, unable to see where I was taking the conversation. Her inexperience with human interaction was rather entertaining to observe.

“Who told you that?”

“…priest…”

“How did he know?”

“…God told him…”

“Has he ever spoken to you?”

“…no…”

“How do you know the priest isn’t lying?”

These few simple sentences were placing doubts in her mind, clearly evident from her constantly changing and conflicted expressions. If you’re really that easy to sway from your faith, you were never really a believer of that heretic religion. Perhaps I can convert her… And then I could keep her- Hehehe, I mean that way I could get the information I needed out of her.

With that, I began to turn her away from the path of a heretic.