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Scars that run across her arm symbolize her endless devotion. Permanently altered flesh showcasing the path she had long since chosen.
Shiori still vividly remembered how it felt to taste the forbidden for the first time. How her arm morphed before her eyes, the look on Lachesis' face as she gazed. Pleased with herself.
Now on this road, Shiori could never go back.
Why would she even want to go back? Her family treated her poorly, father always looking down at her. Promises were made, ones of love, and to be swept away from her family and fate—only to be swiftly broken.
But then Lachesis presented herself to her. Her voice whispering in her ear. To indulge in what is forbidden by her family, by Alchemist society. The forbidden arts could save her. To become engulfed in darkness will set her free.
Shiori knew this world required to be changed for a long, long time. Now she knew that only the Abyssalis Sisters could achieve what needed to be done. Nobody else would be fit for the task, nor did Shiori ever want anyone else to bring forth this change.
Touched by her goddess, hand in Shiori's hair—Lachesis was surprisingly gentle on the rare occasion. This was one of those times. Shiori trembled, her lips parted in joy. Knowing that she had received the greatest of blessings. Such a gesture could never be taken for granted.
On her knees, she began to pray to the one who measured.