Tempest

Chapter 1

"Twelve scars on their thighs measuring in about four inches wide, small cuts surrounding their fingertips, and a teardrop imprint on their tertiary finger. Twenty five scars splattered their entire back, all ranging in different sizes and thickness. There are a plethora of scars covering both of their arms as well; minimal and small, but unusual that there are so many. The wounds on their arms will heal over time but..." the medic stares at the parchment with great sorrow. She shakes her head in a displeasing manor, continuing her report as followed. "The gash to their neck seemed to happen very recently-" one of the guards snickered at that moment "-It's sad to think the lass would be this marked up, at the age of fourteen no less". She continued on with her examination, noting things down in her clipboard while inspecting them carefully. The measurements of each scar, the exact time frame when the healing spells would cease their magic and cause them to vomit their innards, even when they would lose consciousness during the healing process. She stood up and walked out of the room, alerting the guards of her findings. Walking down the hall towards her own room, she carefully places her items on the desk and falls asleep for the night. Tears streamed down her cheek, knowing that much that they would be another interference to the project at hand. It wouldn't be too long for them to ask for her help for the men coming back from their night watch, it wouldn't be too much to ask for a hiring hand.   

"Mary, you are needed to tend to the brat's wounds" one of the guards spoke out from outside her door. Making sure she is dressed properly, she collects her basket of medical tools and hurries down to the lower floors. The men guarding the doors, nod at her and mention she will be needed later today, to hurry with her investigation. The person takes a good look at the medic salving their wounds. She was quite a hefty woman with; shoulder length amber hair tied into a bun, a holy cross of some sorts around her neck and oval cherry tinted glasses. She was dressed in all white with an auburn toolbelt and blue heeled boots. Her eyes resembled a meadow, bright yellow with a tint of orange. There were minimal freckles across the bridge of her nose and pierced lips of brass, two rings to be exact. She couldn't be older than fifty five. Mary attempted to comfort the person, only to be interrupted by a heavy bang against the bars. It was one of the guards, reminding her to only focus on her work, nothing else. With a saddened look, she simply nodded her head and continued on healing the person. She bound their arms to the bed and placed a gag in their mouth so they wouldn't bite their tongue clean off. Blood soaked the rags heavily against their thighs and legs, taking an astonishingly longer time due to their cries of anguish. The bandages on their arms though seem to slide off like water on glass, a few cuts and scrapes but nothing major. The gash on their neck though worried her the most, it was as if someone held the knife in a cumbersome position. They cut them, healed them, and sliced them more so similar to a scarred tree. It wasn't her place to ask, dared to speak up and she would end up in the same position as them. Steadying her breathing, she spread healing slime across their wounds, watching them thrash in pain as if fire burned through their bones was enough to cause pain to Mary's heart. After a few minutes or so of cleaning their wounds as much as she could, she carried a basket full of dirty wraps and walked out of the cell. "How is her condition" one of the guards asked her. "Their arms are the only area free of wounds as for the moment" she said in a soft tone. "Good, I will let them know to resume torture tomorrow" he said, barely a glance in her direction. "Also, what's with the ''their'' crap? She's a snitch and a rat, she doesn't deserve kindness" the guards laugh while turning away from her. Mary wanted to speak up, but decided otherwise, as it would cause her more trouble in that moment. She simply bowed her head and continued forward towards the direction of her station. 

As light broke through the cracks of the walls, a guard entered their chambers and dragged them out of bed by their hair. Brainwashed by the pain, they didn't move an inch during their travels. They has been locked away for eight years for an incident that wasn't their fault to begin with. They gave them all the information they wanted to hear, and yet they kept them for their own enjoyment. The only resemblance of kindness they had received came from the medic Mary, who would sneak the person in pastries from time to time. The guard opened the door and threw them into an empty room with the floors being wet. A few minutes have passed when another guard came in and blasted them with freezing cold water seemingly out of their hands. As quick as the water came, it slowly expelled out of the room from the grates on the corners of the floor. Coughing loudly, they stood up and propped themselves against the walls, prepared for what more suffering they had to deal with. After what felt like several hours of waiting in a cold dank room, a man dressed in all black enters, carrying a notepad and chains on his arm. "We no longer have a use for you, as we are bored of you. They decided to chain you up in the streets to die, not like you have any other choice either way. Pity that you don't have enough use even as a toy, or a statue in most cases. You can stand still like a good little drim and let me chain you up, but if you struggle, it would be so much more fun to hurt you. It's all up to you..." he spoke calmly while approaching them. 

With little energy they had, They tried crawling away from them to any direction. He simply danced his way towards them and kicked them in the stomach as hard as was capable, causing them to dispel the lack of food that was inside. Without resistance, he chained their hands together and picked them up, holding them over their shoulder. They took the time to look at their surroundings, as weak as they were already. It was a struggle enough just to lift up their head, but they made sure to pay attention so every detail they could see. The walls were made of Carmel stone, painted evergreen with mint accents. It was dimly lit with candles and chandeliers with blue flamed candles. There was an oddly shaped symbol sitting on a pedestal, on the chest of a bird. There were a multitude of rooms on each side, the location of this base seemed to be underground. After a few minutes of climbing up floor by floor, he threw them out of the door and into the street. The midnight blue scenery combined with the gentle rain is able to cast a sleep spell on any simple soul. The man dragged them towards an empty building, chaining them to a loose hole in the walls. Standing back up, he lights a cigarette and blows it in their face. "If you know what's good for you, you wont come back to spy on us any longer. Our plans are almost complete and the last thing we need is a rat, now stay there and die, not like you have much of a choice." he said to them while planting his foot against their face. He walked back inside, humming a soft tune to himself, as if nothing was amiss. 

Their eyes were glossy and barely open, laying slumped slumped against the walls with their arms in a cumbersome position. Their stomach rumbling through the night, they were slowly turning into a skeleton as it is. Shifting to one side slightly, the chains fell through the cracks and directly on their lap, though they didn't have the energy to move. They didn't have the energy to stand, or to even speak up for help. Appearing more like a marionette than anything else with their strings cut. The people walking by didn't give them a second glance, only assumed them to be a prisoner who tried escaping. One person was kind enough to leave a bag of star berries for them to eat, though it was a temporary gift that was interrupted by delinquents who kicked the bag away. They licked the floors ever so weakly, trying to absorb the moisture from the floor. Salty, unsanitary, dry. Even the fates of the world seemed to be cruel to them as the roof blocked the rain from falling upon their head. The world seemed to go darker and darker, slowly they closed their eyes.