Her matted, brown hair dropped down her back. She waited for the right moment and pouced. Shackles round the neck, crossed her arms, crushed his wind pipe- dead. Like the one before.
A heavey club collided with her head, she dropped to the ground with a chink and a thud.
She woke, tied to a post. Her back stung and blood seeped from the raw skin. They laughed at her. At her pain. At her failure.
Failure.
That is Celestie Arthenstros. 17 years of age. Trained assassin. A slave.
Caught at the age of 15. That's 2 years.
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