The witch swung her long, spiky whips to the back of the nameless boy. She used all her strength, pushing the force to the very tip of the whip, creating a loud, deafening whack.
The sharp tip tore the soft flesh off the boy's back.
Blood gushing, pain inducing, dignity humiliating.
But the nameless boy did not cry. He didn't even whimper. His fingers twitched slightly. Faint glowing yellow lines ran under his skin. It was so small and insignificant, no one was able to notice it for weeks.
To his ears, a genderless voice emerged:
"S.Y.S.T.E.M. Assimilation Protocol.
Assimilation Rate: 99.98%
Estimated Time of Arrival: 15 minutes."
Tonight. The boy either grafted his first mutation. Or he died.
He sat there silently beside the wooden pole, where he had been restrained against his will. His defiant gaze aimed forward, focusing on what was important and ignoring the pain.
He was merely an Ashen slave. Worse than that, he was a male Ashen slave with no opportunity to ever awaken to be a witch. In this land ruled by witches, that was a fate worse than death.
A young girl came out of nowhere and ran at the boy. She squatted down and hugged him. The girl had beautiful, flowing red hair. Complemented by the extremely luxurious gown in a darker shade of red.
She did not seem to mind the blood. And the dirt. And the filth. She embraced the nameless boy tightly, letting her pure white sleeves get dirtied by the mess.
Lyara then stood between the boy and the witch.
"Please! No more! If you want to hurt him, kill me!"
The witch grinned: "Are you sure, Lady Starcrow? Are you willing to sacrifice yourself for this low Ashen?"
"Of course! I'll do anything for him! I love him!"
The dialogues were so scripted, it almost made the boy burst out laughing. But he restrained it.
The witch took back her whip and bow before Lyara. "Such an honorable cause. As expected of a Starcrow.
YOU! Ashen. You should feel lucky that Lady Starcrow likes you. If I see you slack off again..."
The witch crossed her neck with a thump. The threat was, in no way, subtle.
The nameless boy needed to play his part. At least for now. He smiled. A true, widening, happy smile.
Lyara saw it and couldn't help herself from putting on a wider smile. Everything finally came to fruition. But she composed herself quickly. A lady should not let out her emotions. Especially in an important matter like this.
The witch left, leaving Lyara and the nameless boy together. Lyara struggled to open the chain for the boy, but she managed in the end. By the looks of it, she knew very well how to operate these cuffs.
She tried to play it off by missing the keyhole a few times, but the quick time she managed to find the keyhole already told the boy everything.
The shackles were unlocked. The boy's tired body fell down.
Lyara quickly moved forward to catch him. But the boy suddenly grabbed at the wooden pole, keeping himself standing.
Lyara showed a concerning look, her eyebrows softened.
"You don't need to act strong. I know you must be in a lot of pain. Come. I will have someone take care of your wounds."
Lyara reached her hand at the boy. She had tried so many ways to connect to him. She had done her best to close the gap between them. But the boy always stayed away from her.
Such a unique specimen couldn't be wasted like that. She wanted him for herself. He would be a perfect candidate for her coming-of-age ritual.
Today was a little different. The boy finally responded and grabbed her palm.
"It's... alright."
The boy had long, messy hair. It was soaked with oil, dust, and who knew what else existed in the slum. Hair covered the boy's entire face, but his eyes pierced through. They're brown, clear, and unrelenting.
Lyara jerked back a bit when she saw that gaze. A pure primordial fear came out of her for no reason. She didn't understand why she reacted like that.
She didn't know it yet, but it was an instinct of a prey met with its most dangerous predator.
The boy smiled and dispersed all that intimidation. His smile was gentle and filled with tenderness. It was as if all that aggression was only an illusion. His reaction was so warm. It caused Lyara to forget that piercing gaze of his just a moment ago.
"I am alright. Thank you." The boy's voice filled with sweetness. Tone that you only spoke with a lover.
Lyara responded warmly. Despite her initial hesitation, she fought through it and lunged forward, grabbing the boy's palms.
"You... you finally talk to me! Are you accepting me now?" Lyara tears up. The kind of tears that were produced by straining the muscle on your faces in a specific way.
The boy nodded.
Lyara hugged him again.
"I'm so glad. I really am."
The boy let her do what she wanted but did not hug her back. His two arms dangled freely to the side.
"I..." Lyara diverted her eyes away from the boy. She bites her lips gently. When she looked back at him, it was the sparkling eyes of a naive girl mixed with the lustful sensation of a siren. She knew nothing, sure. She was only a pure young maiden. But she wanted it. That was what she was communicating to the boy.
"I have a special surprise for you tonight. Come to the edge of Rottin Wood, okay?"
How many young men could deny this alluring, explicit request? Her skin was flawlessly smooth. Her scent was filled with the wonder of flowers and sweetness. Her eyes looked at you like she was ready to give her all.
The truth was, not many young men could. And as a normal reaction, the boy should accept it.
And he did, out of his own safety. He nodded and assured the girl that he'd be there.
She turned her back to him and ran away in joyful glee. But unobservable by the boy was a devious smile appearing on Lyara's face. She thought she had won.
She didn't know that behind her, all the boy's emotions disappeared. His eyes were cold as the night, and his pupils moved like an animal, silently tracking her movement.
An innocent young man may get caught in the trap that she laid. But he was not one of them. He knew too well the trap of sweetness and unrelenting, addictive love.
Especially one that was offered by a witch.
Never listen to what they had to say. Look at what they do. Where was all that concern and worry? Did she say she wanted to call some people to help him? Too sloppy. Too many holes.
The boy took a deep breath and looked up into the sky. A sky that was filled with vast, endless foliage and only a little light of the moon was able to pierce through the leaves.
This area was flooded with Plague Trees. Eyes and ears were everywhere, keeping a close watch on him.
"Tonight. The hunt BEGINS." The boy mumbled.
The genderless voice rang out, "Assimilation Rate: 99.99%. Estimated Time of Arrival: 5 minutes."