Many times throughout her training, Orphelia experienced moments when the world seemed to slow down. Her father explained that it was her body reacting to extreme danger, pushing itself to the limit of its abilities. Rather than danger, as she was never motivated by fear, she likened the moments to her subconscious recognizing crossroads, moments where her next decision would affect the rest of her life.

It happened the first time she killed someone in training. The first time she snuck into a troublesome noble’s home to slit his throat. The night she stood over her slumbering father with a blade in-hand, having slipped past his guards for the first time.

As she saw Ethor prepare his spell, she felt a chill go down her spine as her thoughts sharpened. She took in every detail; the deadly pieces of metal, Robert’s hesitation, her allies’ exhaustion, and the remaining four enemies. She pondered the chances that the spell was a bluff as opposed to a serious threat.

If she failed to defend them and the attack proved fatal, there would be consequences. If she acted to defend them and showed her abilities, there would also be consequences but she would be acting according to her assignment. Her father would punish her but if she let her charges die, she would undoubtedly share the same fate.

She decided to act but then came the matter of restraint. If Ethor was to be believed, he was acting on behalf of a knight that could rival Sir Quintana, a giant amongst the casters of the capital. Was it a bluff? Some irate man’s delusion? Ethor certainly had the skill to add validation to his claim. If she slaughtered someone’s disciples while they were pranking fellow disciples, people would be…upset.

This was the part of her occupation that she hated. Putting a knife into someone’s chest was simple. Balancing the different interests surrounding a person’s life is where things became complicated. She couldn’t just do her job because, at the end of the day, she was responsible for her life, not her employers. Certainly not her father, who made it clear that if she failed, he wouldn’t hesitate to throw her to the wolves.

[Poor Orphie. The prodigious daughter. You should have been lauded for your talents. Instead, ambitious parents consigned you to darkness.]

She recognized the whisper of the thrall. I do not have time to entertain you.

[You have all the time I will allow.]

Orphelia focused on her senses and saw that her surroundings were at a standstill, as if time was truly frozen. An awe-inspiring use of the mental affinity. She had heard of a spell that could produce what she was seeing, a special tactic used by the most talented interrogators to break even the hardiest of criminals. A strong will could hold out against their questioning for days and weeks. A supreme will could hold out for months or years. No one lasted decades. Even the thought of such a punishment broke them.

It occurred to her that this wasn’t a reported ability of the Grimoire thralls.

[It always amuses me how races of fledgling intelligence believe they know everything. You cannot fathom the secrets of Burning Earth.]

You…you’re different. She had spent time with the thrall, engaged in simple conversation. She laughed and smiled as the creature asked her about her time at the Hall. In turn, she asked about her cooking and experience as a contracted elemental under Lourianne Tome. Harmless talk on the surface while they both probed each other for information.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

The coy tone had turned derisive and mocking. She could almost see the unusual pink eyes watching her, narrowed in contempt.

[Yes, I am not the big-eyed innocent creature I present to be. A shocking development.]

No need to be sarcastic. I suppose the question is why you are holding me hostage within my own mind.

[How ungrateful.]

Orphelia reflected. Too many lost their lives to the wrong decision made in the split-second afforded in combat. She had the leeway to have a conversation and build her spells without pressure. I apologize. I meant, to what do I owe the pleasure of your voice in my head?

[A lesson for you. It is much harder to use false charm when someone is in your mind. But we have more important matters to discuss. I would like to offer you a chance to change allegiances. Serve me and I will deliver to you what you secretly desire.]

I have no secret desires. She knew exactly what she wanted out of life. Her safety and enough wealth to enjoy her hopefully long life. Wetwork wasn’t very safe but she wouldn’t be a knife in the dark forever and it did pay very well. Better, she collected secrets and favors that would serve as shields against her compatriots when she became more of a liability than an asset.

[Then let me tell you what you desire Orphelia Yemen. More than wealth. More than a long life. More than power, either magical or political.]

Orphelia felt a touch of unease as the thrall’s voice echoed through her mind. Suddenly, as the creature’s mind bore down on her own, she felt incredibly small and fragile. She knew that if the creature wanted, her mind would be crushed.

[You desire…family.]

The revelation stunned her. Then it made her laugh.

Family! As if there was anything more useless in all the world. Her father had unilaterally decided the path of her life for his own benefit. Her mother had bandaged her wounds without batting an eye and sent her back to her tormentors. Her siblings had struck her from their thoughts, happy enough to benefit from her actions without caring about the quality of her life.

The creature thought she wanted a family? Families were burdens. Everything she did, every life she took, every pain she endured, was to escape her family. You may read my thoughts but, in the end, you understand little about people.

[I understand more than you know. Hate is not the opposite of love. It is its mirror. You cannot truly hate if you do not know love.]

I do not love my family. I feel nothing for them. They are my employers, nothing more.

[Nothing, you say. Then why did you sneak into your father’s bedroom with a blade?]

…I was young then.

[Young and…emotional, hm?]

As most children are. With age and experience came perspective. I wouldn’t repeat the action again. There would be no point.

[Yes, there would be no point. He could be bound by his wrists and ankles with his neck exposed and you still would not be able to kill him.]

If it ever became necessary, I wouldn’t hesitate. Just as I’ve never hesitated before. Enough with your games. I owe my allegiance to myself. Release me and allow me to get on with my work.

[Are you in a position to order me?]

Will you kill me? You know that will bring attention to you. You are at my mercy.

[Oh?]

You made a mistake revealing your abilities. I am beginning to doubt you are a simple thrall but even if you are, with your ability to use this spell, the crown will be incredibly interested in you. Luckily, I believe you and your summoner have more worth than as a paycheck for delivering you to the interrogators.

The creature laughed. [Yes, you will do nicely. It is time for your first lesson in working under me. I am the master. Accept me and you will rise to great heights. Refuse, and you will face unimaginable consequences.]

You will not harm me.

[I will not injure you, no. I do not blame you for your ignorance. As an assassin, you equate threats to bodily harm. My pretty blade, there are a myriad of ways to harm someone without touching a hair on their head. Observe.]