Her vision fills with his, connects a memory he shares with her. She remembers this moment very well, how along with the pendant he bequeathed her, the burden of goodbyes hung from her heart, accompanied by her willfulness to press forth unafraid to the blue star she had never been to before but always wanted to go. How anxious it made her, how homesick she had been, but she could cloak it in her enthusiasm and how readily she yearned to embrace the planet other Versians were so eager to hate. She watches herself leave, and from then on, it's painfully obvious this memory isn't hers.
It's Slaine's.
Count Cruhteo, someone she placed her trust in, who watched over her, guided her and displayed utmost loyalty to the empire, warps into another man, and it's so subtle that it looks like it could be a trick of the light. Perhaps it's in his face, or how he looms in a way he's never done to her with his heavy steps impacting the ground with measured, focused intent. It drills trepidation into her, and then, the cane cracks across Slaine's cheek.
She sucks in a shrill gasp, hands flying to cover her mouth as her eyes bulge in profound horror. He always had a severe personality, but never before had he demonstrated such cruelty.
The scenery fades; the brutality does not. Asseylum is forced to witness every whack that knocks him off his feet, boot that drives into him, and bruise that blooms on his skin that occurred right under her nose but out of sight. It's like flipping through a photo album of beatings, each a moving snapshot of just what kind of misery Slaine endured on a daily basis. And she had no idea. It rattles her world and drops her to her knees, trembling with the gravity of these horrific revelations.
And they just get worse, more obscene. Slaine, strapped in cuffs and strung up by chains: electrocuted, asked by Count Cruhteo why he went to the island, given another merciless zap treatment when he wouldn't respond. It's bad enough that Count Saazbaum, the man she now has come to recall organized for her death, suggests he stop. Feelings unfamiliar to Asseylum boil and rage within her as he degrades him.
We needn't show pity to a member of a lower race, Count Saazbaum.
Asseylem shoots to her feet, fists white and clenched to her sides. "Count Cruhteo! As Princess Asseylem Vers Allusia, I order you to stop this act of barbarity at once!!" she screams, barely reining her composure in. He doesn't listen. It's as though he's deaf to her pleas, or rather, like she doesn't exist. When that happens, she decides to take matters into her own hands: she dives for the woman with the control device to at least spare him any more shock treatments, but pins nothing but thin air into submission. It's like she's interacting with a hologram.
Defeated, she remains sprawled to the floor, wishing she didn't have to witness any more atrocities inflicted upon Slaine. As much as she wants to, she can't bring herself to avert her eyes to his experiences. They're his. They're... important.
A part of her holds out for the hope that it's all fabricated somehow, and that these are hallucinations dreamed up only now rather than the products of the past.
ASSEYLUM LEARNS THE TRUTH!!!
It's Slaine's.
Count Cruhteo, someone she placed her trust in, who watched over her, guided her and displayed utmost loyalty to the empire, warps into another man, and it's so subtle that it looks like it could be a trick of the light. Perhaps it's in his face, or how he looms in a way he's never done to her with his heavy steps impacting the ground with measured, focused intent. It drills trepidation into her, and then, the cane cracks across Slaine's cheek.
She sucks in a shrill gasp, hands flying to cover her mouth as her eyes bulge in profound horror. He always had a severe personality, but never before had he demonstrated such cruelty.
The scenery fades; the brutality does not. Asseylum is forced to witness every whack that knocks him off his feet, boot that drives into him, and bruise that blooms on his skin that occurred right under her nose but out of sight. It's like flipping through a photo album of beatings, each a moving snapshot of just what kind of misery Slaine endured on a daily basis. And she had no idea. It rattles her world and drops her to her knees, trembling with the gravity of these horrific revelations.
And they just get worse, more obscene. Slaine, strapped in cuffs and strung up by chains: electrocuted, asked by Count Cruhteo why he went to the island, given another merciless zap treatment when he wouldn't respond. It's bad enough that Count Saazbaum, the man she now has come to recall organized for her death, suggests he stop. Feelings unfamiliar to Asseylum boil and rage within her as he degrades him.
We needn't show pity to a member of a lower race, Count Saazbaum.
Asseylem shoots to her feet, fists white and clenched to her sides. "Count Cruhteo! As Princess Asseylem Vers Allusia, I order you to stop this act of barbarity at once!!" she screams, barely reining her composure in. He doesn't listen. It's as though he's deaf to her pleas, or rather, like she doesn't exist. When that happens, she decides to take matters into her own hands: she dives for the woman with the control device to at least spare him any more shock treatments, but pins nothing but thin air into submission. It's like she's interacting with a hologram.
Defeated, she remains sprawled to the floor, wishing she didn't have to witness any more atrocities inflicted upon Slaine. As much as she wants to, she can't bring herself to avert her eyes to his experiences. They're his. They're... important.
A part of her holds out for the hope that it's all fabricated somehow, and that these are hallucinations dreamed up only now rather than the products of the past.