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[color=gray][i][b]Sin, The 7 Sins, The Sinner, Pride, Gluttony, Wrath, Envy, Sloth, Lust, Greed[/b][/i][/color]
2 MP, Level 4[/center]

The battle axe. Skillfully formed, with flakes being removed from both faces of a flint nodule, the almond-shape of the weapon testified to the expertise of its makers; and its glow appraised its enchanters. Sin examined the weapon, taking in its features and craftsmanship, he even examined its application in battle. While the khopesh was an unbalanced weapon that could earn more leverage for more powerful strikes, the axe was light, fast, and well balanced. The pros of the axe seemed to far outway the pros of the khopesh, he would have to look into that when he returned to Xerxes. As of now though, more important matters needed tending to.

Amartía sat silently on a settle of stone within what She'ma called: The Sanctuary; lounging as both Victor and Golem shuffled about; lighting candles, preparing berths of smooth rock, and readying his sacrifices. It was all quite a process, but the Golems were tireless. They were walking monoliths of stone  with a mortal souls bound to thier core; capable of taking and carrying out simple orders. While Amartía considered this experiment to already be a success, he could not stop there. How far could he take this? What were the secrets behind The Occult? How far could he push the boundaries of Logos Law? 

All these questions could be answered! They [b]had[/b] to be answered! All he had to do was try, and She'ma would help him do that. One of the two survivors of the Alenai clan sat eerily still, forced to kneel next to him. Her eyes were empty and her face woebegone; an expression Sin thought didn't fit her exotic countenance. 

A Victor stepped forward, interrupting his contemplation. [b]"My lord, everything is complete. We are ready to perform the Ritual."[/b] Amartía smiled and turned to She'ma. She had heard the Victors words. Sin could taste the sense of dread that filled her at that moment. She to would commit the same heinous acts that her fellow Priests had but hours ago in this very room.

[color=Crimson]"You heard the man. Rise."[/color] Amartía said softly, caressing her shaking shoulders. 

But She'ma would not move. Here eyes widened in horror as she began to shuffle backwards. [color=green]"I-I cannot. Please, please."[/color] she muttered, her teeth chattering.

Amartía stifled a laugh. [color=Crimson]"Come come now daughter, you have nothing to fear. Rise."[/color] he cooed.

Still, she refused, tears streamed down her face. She would never, she would rather die. How could she betray her morals?  Her people. Herself.

Amartía frowned. He had grown tired of her impertinence. With a bone crashing grip, Sin thrust She'ma into the air. [color=Crimson][b]"I TOLD YOU TO RISE!!"[/b][/color] he bellowed. She'ma crumpled back down to the ground, sobbing vigorously.

Amartía stood over her, his breath ragged. Such a stubborn child. [color=Crimson]"Maybe you have me mistaken She'ma. You have [b]NO[/b] choice in the matter."[/color] Sin berated, his face impassive but Wrath churned deep underneath. She'ma returned the look with one of her own; a steady gaze of perseverance, unflinching and unwavering.

Sin simply shook his head. [color=Crimson]"Do you really believe I am evil She'ma?"[/color] Sin cooed. She'ma made no move to answer him. Sin smirked.

[color=Crimson]"Some people say I'm evil, but I say I'm just wired differently. Others look at a squirrel and see something cute, but I see something I can kill. I don't want to just behead it though, I want to see how long it can last while I disembowel it nice and slow. I want to see the light go out in it's rodent eyes while I examine it's innards. I could say it's scholarly, but that would be a lie. The truth is I enjoy it. I get a kick out of it. Just be glad it's an animal in my sights right now, not you."[/color]  Amartía avowed, letting out a deep breath. She'ma hadn't moved. Her posture still betraying her eyes emotion.

Amartía let out an exasperated breath. It seemed that his words hadn't sunk in. [color=Crimson]"It unfortunately seems that you still don't understand you position. Well, since I'm in the experimenting mood, I might as well test this out."[/color] Amartía simpered, a crooked smile plastered on his face, the same way a wolf would smile at a lame lamb as black electricity began to crackle down his arm.

She'ma did not whimper. She had dried her tears. She was ready to die for her clansmen, to be thier representative in the grave. Her eyes closed as her breath slowed, within moments, she had resigned herself to her fate.

Amartía merely laughed. That was not at all the response he expected, but he would take it.

Without warning, She'ma felt Amartía abrasive grip on her face, callous and passionless. For the first time, She'ma felt true fear. It was all consuming. Shear and utter panic flooded through her. There was a metallic taste akin to blood on her tongue. There was an acute awareness of her beating heart. Lungs that never seemed to fill, even with access to all the air she would ever need. She was frozen in fear, incapable of speaking a word or even moving. 

Her skin crawled as the inky darkness arced off Sins' outstretched hand. She could taste the forgien mucilaginous magic that invaded her body. Without warrant, emotions that she rarely felt began to buddle forth to the surface.

[i]Why do I care for my clan? I am free![/i]

[color=Green]"N-no.[/color] she murmured.

[i]I'm no longer shackled to this accursed place.[/i]

She'ma's eyes widened as she cradled her head. These weren't her thoughts! [s]But they were.[/s] She was being influenced, changed. [s]But she always felt this way.[/s] She could never betray her people, her tradition. [s]But she would.[/s]

She'ma let out a piercing scream. It sounded like a scream of wild panic. A scream of hysteria and disbelief, bordering on terror. Eyes wide with horror, the mouth rigid and open, her chalky face gaunt and immobile, fists clenched with blanched knuckles and the nails digging deeply into the palms of her hand.

But a second emotion fired through her, replacing her dread with an emotion she had never felt before. For the first time in her life she felt rage. It was an all consuming anger; her nostrils flaring, her eyes flashing and closing into slits, her mouth quivering and drooling, slurring words that were unintelligible came spewing into space like a volcano releasing its pent up emotions into the darkness. 

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Then, there was darkness. She'ma's consciousness fell deep into the murky depths of her mind. As she plunged into the abyss the watched misty forms of herself disappear. One at first, then two, then three appeared then disappeared. Before long, hundreds of apparitions came into existence only to be whisked away. With them, grew the whispers. Whispers of revenge, hate, lust, and freedom. At first she refused to listen to them, but they grew louder and more incessant, and she was forced to listen, to give in. Then she disappeared. Dissolving into mist, and she felt nothing.

Amartía stood over her, his hands at his side. She'ma slept soundly beneath him. The lines of care and toil had smoothed and virtually disappeared, the crows feet round her eyes now but a memory. Eyelids closed against the dim light of dawn and her breathing deep and relaxed, all the muscles in her face and body were totally at peace, like a baby in its' first throes of slumber and before the dreaming began. Not a twitch, not a spasm, barely any movement of her breasts rising and falling with each intake of air such was the depth of her oblivion. This was a body totally at peace, at rest, at one with itself, rejuvenating the mind and muscles before the onset of yet another day of turmoil. 

It wouldn't last long. [color=Crimson]"And now we see the results of out little experiment."[/color] Amartía snapped his fingers, the resounding click echoed through the halls, breaking the silence. 

She'ma wakened.

Eyes opened like two touchlight beams, heart  pounding and mind empty. It  was if a hypodermic of adrenaline has been emptied into here carotid. The Priestess remain unmoving, blank and silent. Amartía smiled. [color=Crimson]"Rise."[/color] 

She'ma rose.

She did not know why. Her body seemed to move on its own, her brain firing off commands that her mind couldn't authorize. Her face remained vacant and impassive, her mind a black sheet. She felt nothing.

[color=Crimson]"Quite interesting. Not exactly what I was expecting, but I can make due-[/color] Sin gestured to a Victor, who quickly padded off. Within seconds, the warrior returned, dragging with him to prone figures. On was a fairly large wolfhound, bound and silenced. Two other Victors stepped up to lay it on the stone bed. The second was much more recognizable. It was an old man. The elderly personage had a fringe of grey-white hair around his balding, mottled scalp. He had a wizened face and a back slightly hunched. With each movement there was the creak of old bones. He had the resigned look of one who knows that at his age life had stopped giving and only took away.

She'ma recognized that face. Memories began to flood her mind. His voice, his look, his mien. The man who ripped her family apart. The man who professed her to be prodigy. The man who dictated her life for so long. The man who abandoned his people. Her people.

The High Priest.

[color=Green][b]"It was you."[/b][/color] She'ma spat. Her eyes are bulged out, a vein throbbed in her throat, her jaw tensed. It looked as if she was ready to strike and scream, but she held back, barely. 

Amartía smiled. [color=Crimson]"So you know one another? Well that's great! Our High Priest friend here has been plenty helpful, but I think its time for him to join his brethren. Don't you."[/color] he cooed. 

She'ma did not speak, nor did she react, but the High Priest did. [b]"My daughter, do not look upon me with hate. Did I not raise you as my own, my pupil, my child."[/b] the old man rasped.

At that moment, She'ma snapped. [color=Green]"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK OF ME AS YOUR CHILD!!! YOU TOOK ME AWAY FROM MY FAMILY, TO LIVE THE LIFE OF A MURDER!!!!"[/color]

The High Priest dipped his head. [b]"My child-"[/b]

[color=Green]"ENOUGH! I don't want to hear it,"[/color] she whispered before turning to Amartía. [color=Green]"I am ready to go through with the Ritual."[/color]

Amartía's face brightened, satisfaction oozing from his eyes. With a clap, the Victors surged forward, grabbing hold of the High Priest. [b]"Plea- no- MY CHILD! HELP ME!"[/b] The old mans screams fell upon deaf ears as She'ma stepped forward. In that moment, she felt powerful, in her element, were she belonged as she began to chant.

She'ma found it ironic. 

The High Priest screamed. 

[hider=Summarino/Might]
[list]
[*]Welcome back to The Harvest Part 2. This essentially raps up the story, gives Amartía a Might investment, and will lead off into his return to Xerxes.
[/list]
[list]
[*]The story begins with Sin examining the Aleani's main weapon, the Axe, and comparing it to the Khopesh. He decides to look into it deeper back home.
[*]We meet She'ma now bound and essentially catatonic while Golems and Victors prepare the dias for another Ritual. 
[*]Unfortunately, She'ma refuses to cooperate, so Amartía is forced to use his own twisted way of force by playing on her mind and invoking her Wrath. 
[*]She'ma goes on a psychedelic trip through her subconscious and essentially wakes up a new person.
[*]Amartía, being the mean guys he is, calls upon the Victors to being the second living survivor; the High Priest.
[*]This compiled with the old mans word sets She'ma off and she essentially preforms the Ritual, forgetting about her "morals" completely.
[*]The rest is history.
[/list]
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