Ciaran
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The Sculptor
He watched as the girl stepped out of the shimmering doorway.
"Did you enjoy the hot spring?" he asked her, like he'd asked all the other women he'd bought to test this.
"Yes, Mr. Sethronis," she answered. "The temperature was perfect, and the currents--"
"That's enough," he interrupted with a raise of his hand. He dismissed the spell, and the door disappeared. "Back to the end of the line with you."
The girl, he didn't care what her name was, moved to the end of the five-person line to wait her turn again.
Skarious sighed. He'd perfected the rest of this spell long ago, but he'd had no success making it erase the memories of the stay in the hot spring.
He tweaked the spell a little and recast it. The shimmering blue door reappeared, casting its light on the surrounding darkness.
"Next," he called.
The girl in front stepped into the door.
Skarious waited a few minutes. Would this work? he wondered. He certainly hoped so. He was starting to think that he had misunderstood the research he'd put into the spell.
"Come on out," he called finally.
A few seconds later, the girl re-emerged.
"Did you enjoy the hot spring?" he asked.
The girl looked around for a second. "There's a hot spring in this place?" she asked. "Where?"
Skarious smiled. Now he was getting somewhere.
The human girl looked back at him. Her eyes were probably struggling to see, since the only light here came from the door. "Who are you, anyway? Where am I?"
Skarious froze for a second. That wasn't supposed to happen...
"What's your name?" he asked.
The girl opened her mouth to answer, then closed it. She looked down.
The other women began chattering amongst themselves and looking between the door and the girl.
Skarious gestured to his other slaves. "Do you remember any of them?" he questioned. "You grew up together." A lie, of course, but if her memory was gone, she wouldn't know that.
"N-no, sorry..." she lamented. "Who are you, again?"
"What was the first question I asked you?" he continued, ignoring her question.
The girl raised her hand to her chin and curled her index finger in front of it. "Um... You asked me my name, I think. It's a little fuzzy."
How wonderful. Short-term memory damage. She was useless now.
Or was she...?
He called his two high elf slaves and ordered them to watch over the women. He pointed at the brain-damaged girl. "You, follow me."
He turned and led her to a nearby altar. There were several of them scattered about the underground town. This particular one was meant for humanoid sacrifices.
"Who am I?" she asked again. "Where am I?"
"Climb on the altar," he instructed. "I'll answer your questions when we're done." He added a small magical push to the instruction, just in case.
"You're not gonna sacrifice me, are you?" she asked while climbing on.
"Of course not," he assured her. He meant it, too.
"This'll only hurt a bit..." he soothed...
CLACK! He closed one of the shackles around her arm.
"Oh, is this for a painting?" she asked brightly.
"Nope, a sculpture," Skarious chuckled as more clacks accompanied the other shackles.
He grinned maniacally. The poor girl had no idea what was about to happen to her.
"You're about to become immortal," he told her, and snapped his fingers. Instantly, the girl's entire body sprouted yellow, flickering flames. Skarious backed off to avoid the heat and smoke.
She screamed, of course. People usually do when they catch fire. Buuut he had no intention of putting out the flames.
The girl jerked back and forth, up and down, as she tried everything she could to get free and put out the fire.
Skarious just sniffed the air. Ahh, the smell of roasting flesh... The sound of humans screaming in agony... The view of one writhing in pain...
After a minute or two, he clapped his hands once, and the flames went out. Instead of a charred carcass, however, they left behind a stone statue. It featured all the burns and flaky textures of a real burn victim. In a couple of places, the skin had burned off entirely.
The best part? The girl was still conscious, still aware. Still feeling all of the pain from the injuries. Unable to move, unable to speak, unable to vent the agony she would endure for eternity. All she could do would be to observe the world around her and suffer until the end of time.
Skarious decided he could make a few hundred thousand, easily, from selling his newest masterpiece.
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