A Prelude to Battle – Ulrich | Emiko

[attr="class","libody"]Violent. The command sent a powerful shudder through her mind. Muscles tensed as the sensation of ice froze over her veins. Breath itself halted as the Runic ink would viciously seize control of her body. Any unconscious acts of defiance, no matter how minuscule, would be met with the sharpest electrical bolts of blinding pain. Emiko had experienced this version of hell (as she coined it) many times before. There was a unique skill that one had to learn through this process. Yet not one easily described.

Perhaps a close comparison would be, hm ... the ability to relax oneself even under harsh distress in order to not feel further uncomfort. The tattoo was rather particular in that front. Even if the body unconsciously jolted backwards, she would be punished for it. It was best to as quickly as possible fully submit. It wasn't worthwhile to fight when you were going to be forced to submit anyways, that's what Emiko had concluded years ago. It hurt too much to fight it.

With breath that refused to make sound and a mouth that halted in motion, Emiko's face paled to a white sheet's hue. That glare. It was enough to horrify her on its own. But this had been coupled with an order. To be enslaved in such a way, it was simply terrifying. Obviously she had not given the answer her Headmaster was looking for. But for once he seemed understanding of her short coming.

Scarlet eyes would watch on as the man explained. She listened to every word, never daring to remove her utmost attention from the one who held her leash. Em would flinch lightly at the first book falling to the floor. The rest would thud to the ground without so much as a blink. Instead she would lace her fingers together behind her back, the usual attempt of hiding her nerves from those cold observant stares.

Emiko's gaze would only lower when her Headmaster brought a page to attention. Indeed, even with her years of study and personal reading, she had only ever lightly read over these subjects. Upon further thought Em wouldn't have been surprised if a good collection of those books weren't available by the common student. The spoken rune would bring the appearance of a Runic tool that the young woman had never witnessed before.

Ulrich would have turned his back, tossing books aside with flippant air. Emiko's attention she allowed to remain on the new subject. Text book beneath, the glove lay staring back at her. Manicured fingers dared to reach forward, brushing against the material. How many others had worn this glove before her? How many others had there been against their wills but bound to absolute servitude? How many lives had this single glove snuffed out? What would the scales speak of this article underneath her skin? Had it blessed the world more than cursed it?

I'm sure you won't disappoint me.

Yes, she recognized the threat as it was. Returning her hand back behind her back, Emiko could do nothing but wait. She didn't dare play charades. Her Headmaster would find it insulting. Gods, she hoped he remembered before his anger reached the point of discipline. Hands would be trembling behind her back by the time Ulrich came to the epiphany on his own. The release from his previous order was relieving. As sudden as feeling a hot morning's shower, it was an instant sigh of relief. One that she didn't dare express outwardly of course, but inwardly there was a strange concoction of strains of an odd peace.

"Yes, Headmaster." Emiko's voice initially cracked from its brief silencing. The professor would clear her throat hurriedly to better state, "I understand, sir." She wouldn't dare ask any questions at this time. Any opinion based question she could think of would best be asked after she had the basics under her wraps. If she were to ask now it would be similar to a man asking a grand master taster any specialized advice learned over decades and decades of practice when the new taster had yet to tell types of simple juice apart.

There was no need to waste the master's time before the right time were to pass. Nor would Emiko even ask if there was anything else she could do to service her Headmaster. No. She would wait. If dismissed Em would bow as was custom of her Ikigain homeland. The woman would move to pick up the books that she had been told to take with her but not before eyed the glove ... and pulled it on. The material was exquisite, even the lining. Soft and pleasant against her skin, she tugged at the glove to make sure it was on snug.

This wasn't an accessory. This was her newest weapon. There was something sombering about knowing that blood would be shed through the use of the small five-fingered article now dressing her left hand. Chilling. Powerful. Each finger would fold down into her palm before stretching back out individually. This was a new era for her Headmaster to bring these out.

Scarlet eyes would narrow as she'd pick up the books she'd been instructed to. "Thank you, Headmaster." Emiko would say with a hastened shallower bow, not wanting to push her Headmaster's patience. This was a new era. The gloved hand gripped the novels tighter as she exited. Determination was clear in her stride. One week. If anyone could do it, she could. And she fucking would.