As terrible as this is. I am the monster, and this is my duty.
I strike Eve again and hear her muffled cry. She’s so strong not screaming at the top of her lungs as the pain must be unbearable, but clearly her hatred for Jin Kol is stronger.
I raise the whip again and try to steady my hand. The ritual requires precision. Not rage towards the IGC. Nor indulgence, I can’t let myself forget that we are not in the shrine. I can’t let this become something ugly.
Rafe’s eyes hold mine.
Yes, guide my hand, Brother.
Keep me in check for our Eve.
My hand lowers, and the whip hits her again, and her body reacts the way it always does, opening her up, stripping her down to only breath, muscle, and instinct. And it’s all so familiar. I know this part of her too well. My hand grips the whip again, and I strike twice, almost falling into a pattern. Almost forgetting myself. I stop. I breathe.
This is not the shrine.
I meet Rafe’s eyes, and he balances me. He reminds me of where I am and what I am doing. This is not the shrine. Another strike. Eve’s whole body convulses, and some of her blood splashes on my face. I flinch, wiping it away as if the act itself has crossed a line.
Goddesses, I can’t.
I almost drop the whip.
Rafe makes a movement, so slight, but I notice. His head is inclined ever so slightly. We hold eye contact. It’s me looking back on myself.I can do this, and I will not go too far. I will be as precise as my brotheris willing me to be now. That’s what his eyes say to me, don’t go too far.Keep it precise, Lorian.
I grip the whip and strike again.
Eve is staring at the floor and moving her lips silently. I don’t know if she’s praying to her god or counting. But I don’t stop in my duty.
The numbers blur, but I force myself to keep counting because stopping would be worse.
Halfway there. The muscles in my arm burn with effort, and sweat trickles down my back just as the blood is dripping down her body.
She’s hardly made a sound, and I stop suddenly, wondering if I, Lorian the monster, have killed her. I wait, looking for her intake of breath. Then I see it and continue.I am a monster.
Forty-one. Forty-two.
Breathing is becoming difficult for me. I wonder if it’s possible to die from the shame of having to do this. What was once my pleasure, hidden and chosen, is now my humiliation put on display.
Rafe stands still, watching every bloody second of this. I wish for a second that I was the one standing clean watching rather than the one bloody with her blood, holding the whip. But I know as well as he does, we couldn’t switch roles.
Sixty-eight. Sixty-nine. Seventy.
"Two more," Jin Kol says, his voice full of satisfaction. "Make them count."
I want to throw the whip away, or start beating Jin Kol until he dies, but I can’t do either. I must finish this.
The final strikes land on skin already marked red and bloody
"Seventy-two," Jin Kol announces. "Aftercare protocol requires a maintained position for thirty minutes post-correction. To properly internalize the lesson."
Rafe makes eye contact with me and gives me a nod.
Eve doesn’t move. Her small body is trembling uncontrollably.
I want to go to her, but Jin Kol says, “You will not touch her for thirty minutes.” And it takes all my strength to stay away from her. But I don’t take my eyes off of her, as if just by watching her, I am willing her to live.
Thirty minutes feels like years.
Jin Kol reviews his notes, occasionally asking Commander Gai questions about Eve's daily behavior.
