Chapter 2: Sacrifice

(POV Oionós) 

"Are you?" I had asked Mother. 

I was sincerely asking...was she afraid for me? But, why did I have to fear? While I wasn't sure what kind of test I would undergo, I was confident in myself. From how mother always gushed over me I was sure I was just as special as she'd said. 

Walking through the doors, I felt dozens of gazes bore into my soul. It was as though they were breaking me down and building me back up in their own image. Each of them forming opinions and passing judgment before I'd even done anything. What was going on? 

While mother wasn't always the nicest in the world, the feeling I got from the people in attendance told me they were considerably worse. Each of them looked at me like I was a piece of food...or a tool for them to use. 

Snapping me out of my trance was a booming voice coming from a man sitting at the forefront of a group of thrones. As he spoke, I couldn't help but blink in surprise in confusion. What plan? What was he talking about? Father? Walter Steele? Queen consol or whatever? 

While I stood there confused and mulled over the unfamiliar words and information I'd just learned, I found myself lying on my back. What? I tried to speak but the words couldn't leave my mouth. Instead, all the contents of my stomach did. 

An unknown sensation flooded my mind, body, and soul...it was horrible. I'd once stubbed my toe and decided it was the worst pain known to man, but to compare it with what I was feeling right now wouldn't do it justice. It wasn't even a basis to compare with. 

I was hurting. No, this was beyond hurt. Before I could even begin to come down from the sensations, I was once again hurled across the floor. How? Why? What? Eyes dazedly searching for any answer, I the source of my pain, one of the black-suited men that had kneeled before the man with the deep voice. 

Tears filled my eyes obscuring my vision, as I searched for my mother. A soundless screech left my throat, as I clawed at it for any sense of relief. This in and of itself was a pain unlike any other. I just wanted to cry...why couldn't I cry. 

My thoughts became a whirlwind of emotion and disorientation, and soon I couldn't tell up from down, left from right, or reality from dream. Despite this, I could make out the whispers among the crowd, the giggles as those in attendance laughed at me. 

Was something funny? Did they see what was happening to me? Did they not care? Why were they laughing? Why were they being so mean? Please, stop it! Please, stop it! 

Gargling on warm liquid that continuously flowed from my lips, I tried to yell at them. 

Y-you...you dummies! Please just stop! 

B-Be quiet! I wanted them to stop, I wanted it all to stop. The joyous laughter emerging from their evil mouths. The sound of their heartbeats, the sound of the blood rushing through their bodies, the sound of each breath they took. 

A whisper in the back of my mind caught my attention. Stop asking and demand it. Suddenly, something locked deep inside me, its existence chained and hidden until now seemed to escape. 

"Hhhhh. Hhuuuuuuhhhh. HUSH!" 

No longer was it an option, or a choice...they WOULD be silent. And silent they were. 

(POV Sebastian Clark) 

A silence yet known to man pervaded the surroundings, I found myself questioning my very existence as I took to my feet glancing around the throne room. The Talons followed suit, taking a defensive stance as they gazed upon the boy's still crumpled form. 

My brow couldn't help but twitch at that. Clearly, they'd determined the boy was a threat. Giving them a signal I allowed them to approach the boy, after which they cautiously felt his pulse. Giving me a few hand signals it was clear that he was alive, although unconscious. 

I couldn't help but furrow my brows at this, despite his unconscious state, whatever power he had over us was still in effect. Directing my gaze to Calvin I had him escort the boy to a room where he'd be treated. As Calvin picked up Oionós's body and exited the room, sound once more returned to the world. 

The first thing that graced my ears was a deep breath of air being released from all those in attendance. No words were spoken as everyone alternated their gazes between me, and the door in which the boy had left. 

For the first time in who knows how many years, laughter from the depths of my soul erupted from within me, 

"Heh, it's said that only under extreme pressure are diamonds formed. Well done, Priscilla, I look forward to what else he has in store for us." 

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Days had passed since Oionós had fallen unconscious, and despite that, any time someone entered a certain radius of the child, all sound in the surroundings vanished. To make matters more interesting, as the days passed sometimes the only thing that vanished was the ability to speak or see. 

Skeptical as I was, my Talons soon reported the same news. Sometimes they'd not be able to hear at all, whilst others they'd be unable to speak, and other times blindness would overtake them. There was no particular pattern as their senses were randomly and sporadically stripped from them. 

Uriah, eldest of my Talons, and arguably the most loyal spoke forebodingly. 

"It's as though...if you want to enter his presence...you have to sacrifice something in return." 

(POV Oionós) 

Eyes flittering open, I dazedly observed my surroundings. Stone walls and a set of steel bars blocking my exit were what greeted my eyes. Oh my god! Was I in jail? Why? What did I do? 

Tears filled my eyes as I began sobbing. I didn't wanna go to jail, it's all stinky and gross and I have to use the bathroom in the open. Wait, what happened? Think dummy! Uh, I went in for my test and... 

Memories of the pain flooded my mind causing me to cough violently. I remembered everyone in the room's gazes...their laughter. The anger. That's right, I yelled at them. Oh no! Did I fail the test? 

Was this my punishment? For not only failing but yelling at everyone?! Snot and drool fell from my face as I cried out loud, 

"I'm sorry Mom. I didn't mean to fail. I'm sorry for yelling!" 

Hurried footsteps soon resounded as a group of people in familiar white masks covering the top halves of their faces entered my vision. I think they were servants. At the forefront was a young woman wearing a golden mask much like those on the thrones were. Was she important? Who was she? Was I in trouble? 

"Please don't cry, little one, and certainly NEVER apologize. You're above that now. Apologies are for the weak, for those who depend on the opinion of others...but you're not weak, are you? You don't stress over the opinions of sheep. No, you're far above that." In a loving tone, the young woman opened my cell door before pulling me into her embrace. 

Apologies for the weak? I'm not weak? Yeah, that's right...I'm strong! 

"W-who are you?" I asked between sniffles. 

Removing her mask, the woman revealed a wide and warm smile, 

"Just consider me your big sister, you can call me Veronica." 

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According to Veronica, she was to be my guardian or handler of sorts due to my mother's 'conflict of interest', whatever that meant. She along with one of the Talons 'Uriah Boone' would oversee my training. 

Not only that, but she said I passed the test with flying colors. 

"You mean I got an A+? Like, 110%?" I asked, tugging on her clothes. 

Giving me a small chuckle, Veronica nodded her head. 

"Yes, you got 110% on this test." 

Puffing my chest out and placing my hands on my hips I couldn't help the sense of satisfaction I felt. Apparently sensing the confidence go to my head, Veronica just had to burst my bubble. 

"Don't go getting a big head now. At the moment you're a diamond in the rough, lacking any actual skill or strength to your name. Your potential, however, is more than...superb. Did you already forget how you were tossed around the throne room like a ragdoll?" Taking me aback was a rather stern tone and equally stern expression as she lectured me. 

Reminded once more of what could only be described as something I never wanted to experience again, I felt tears fill my eyes once more. 

As I began to sniffle, with water threatening to flood from my sockets, Veronica's stern expression was broken as she knelt down and ruffled my hair softly. 

"Now, now, you've got to stop crying about every little thing. You're strong remember? Pain is fleeting, so don't let it control you. Fear is your tool, not a shackle. Things won't be easy from here on out, and if just talking about that makes you give up then-" 

Cutting her off, I shook my head. 

"I'm not afraid, and I'm not giving up!" 

"Well then, let's begin." Spoke a voice from behind me. 

(POV Uriah Boone) 

The boy, Gray Steele was an anomaly to me. Physically there was nothing unique about him, but mentally, and obviously internally there was more at play. Whether speaking of his apparent ability or the fact that his mind was rather pure. Perhaps pure was the wrong word, he wasn't incorruptible...he was just patient. Frighteningly so. 

The fact that he endured so much hell for so long before snapping is mind-boggling. Furthermore, after the event, unless directly reminded, he didn't seem to particularly care or think much of it. Instead, opting to focus on what was going on in the moment. 

Such a strong mindset was unheard of. As far as I was concerned if I'd gotten beaten like that, the second I was better I'd lash out rage-filled and viciously at all those involved. However, this difference is exactly what put me on edge around him. How much anger could be contained within him before he erupted again? 

How large would the next one be compared to the last? Was his apparent patience an unintentional coping method or was it an intentional brewing/boiling of power? A silent rage, hidden beneath the surface. 

Pushing those thoughts to the back of my mind, I focused on the task at hand. Turning this naive boy, into a cold calculative killing machine. Glancing at Veronica, I couldn't help but question whether or not her apparent infatuation with him could also be considered a conflict of interest. 

Well, whatever. From what little we understood, the boy, while apparently able to strip people of their senses, was also a living ghost. Priscilla had rather unceremoniously left out a certain aspect of his. Namely the natural ability (or inability) of his body to create sound. 

Clearly, there were some kinks to work out, as during his beating he'd cried out in pain more than once. Not to mention when Calvin's fists came in contact with him, the resounding collision was quite thunderous. 

From my point of view, based on the description of this gift of his, he should be able to remain utterly silent regardless of what was happening to him. Unless he chose to or actually wanted to, no noise should escape his being. 

Anyways, this paired with his ability to strip others of their senses made his training regime quite clear. I'd subject him to experience his very own ability first-hand. How could he understand what it meant to be blind, deaf, or mute unless he'd experienced it first-hand? 

With that in mind, I began his beati-...training, under different scenarios.

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Have 10 chapters currently written. Probably just gonna release two a week to give me time to keep writing at a reasonable pace. If you want character pictures, look through the aux chapter at your own peril. 

- Good night.