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Taking off a black silk glove, Shiori looks down to the scars that decorate her skin. Cracked red and black lines reminiscent of a chaotic painting. Sometimes she swears they even glow faintly.
It is a permanent reminder of the path she has chosen for herself. One that is the exact opposite of the people within her craft.
The history of forbidden alchemy is written down in blood. Countless lives had been claimed in its wake. As alchemists were being seduced by the dark arts for one reason or another. Sometimes money, power, or even a twisted form of love. What she practiced was forbidden for a damn good reason. But Shiori had her own reasons for choosing this path.
For her, it was her endless devotion to her goddess. Perhaps a twisted love all on its own.
Whenever Lachesis would spare a moment to do so much as look at her, Shiori could feel her entire being tremble. Her soul ached, and her heart set ablaze unlike anything else. For a worthless dog such as her to be even partially acknowledged for even a passing glance—the danger brought upon her life was worth it.
What the Abyssalis Sisters sought to bring to the world was a worthy cause as well, of course. Everything needed to be changed. And what they each wanted to achieve would do right upon this pathetic world.
Shiori clutched her chest. Lachesis had summoned her for another meeting, no doubt providing the next task at hand for her. As her fingers dug deeper into cloth, she yearned for this encounter to potentially become something so much more… And sometimes these meetings did.
What would the whims of her goddess be like this time? Shiori couldn’t wait, the anticipation ate away at her deep inside.