Trafficked: Reborn Heir's Revenge-Chapter 56: The Color of Defiance

Chapter 56: The Color of Defiance

... The air had been damp in the corridor.

A strange silence filled the corner of the slave quarters as Thalia entered, expecting to find another cowering girl or stubborn noblewoman grumbling about her bathwater.

Instead, she found Velma, Oliver’s big sister, alone, crouched by the wall like an obedient worshipper.

But the scene was anything but obedient.

Velma’s fingers were slick with blood, tracing a familiar symbol onto the wall. The Emblem of the Church of Light, drawn with disturbing precision.

Even the stars were beautifully done.

Blood dripped in trails down her pale arm.

“A606?” Thalia’s voice was more confused than commanding.

The girl did not respond.

Then, she bowed low, forehead nearly touching the cold stone floor beneath the bleeding symbol.

Suddenly, she turned her head, slowly—too slowly—and looked directly at Thalia.

Her eyes were glowing. Reddish-yellow, like heated gold smouldering beneath the blood. Not human. Not normal. Not sane.

And her lips...

Not stitched, but… marked. As though stitches had once sealed them, long removed, leaving hollow grooves in the flesh.

“The hour... of the Wise King is upon us.” Her voice echoed with something else. It was ancient and cruel. “His blood... is HOME as is his ENEMY.”

Then her body collapsed like a puppet cut from its strings. Her hair, once bright red during the possession, faded back to ghostly white.

Thalia stood frozen, bile rising in her throat.

There had never been a situation like this before. In fact, most knew of the wise king, but the Somara empire worshipped him.

Prophecy or what looked like it should not be the capability of a slave.

She turned, robes whispering behind her, and ran to report to Cassian.

———

In Cassian’s chambers, the scent of leather and ink filled the stone chamber. Scrolls were rolled in tight geometric rows. Filing drawers bore cold metal handles. Training schedules, bloodline evaluation charts, and slave intake logs were laid out with painful precision on the desk. ƒrēenovelkiss.com

Cassian stood at the centre of it all. Tall, poised, calculating. His black-flecked hair tied back. He was scanning a parchment, his hand never leaving the silver compass he used as a paperweight.

Then came Thalia, bursting in like a storm

“Father, there’s something I need to report—Slave A606—she—”

Without even turning, he spoke.

“Your management of the slaves has been adequate. I saw your illusionary bath chamber gambit. Effective.

“But why,” he said, finally glancing up, “do you insist on wearing black, And not the Blessed white garment?”

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She faltered.

“We’ve discussed this. Firstly, our Uniform is blessed to protect us. Secondly, It is regulation. It is tradition. It is honor. It is—”

“Control?” she snapped.

“Stubbornness,” he corrected calmly. “Just like your mother’s. I should have tamed that part of her before it grew in you.”

The words struck deep. Thalia flinched.

She looked down at herself.

Yes. She wore a simpler black. After the trial to the wall, she had changed into black.

After all, they were now at the slave farm. There was no need to stay on ceremony.

It was true that the Vaelcrest uniform did have its advantages, as it was blessed.

The Vaelcrest dealt with slaves of different kinds. Many times, they were monsters. The white uniform provided an extra layer of security.

Of course, the slave sigil ensured a slave could not raise their hands on their masters.

If she could get it in black, she would have. But it came in strictly white—Tradition.

Then again, her father always took it beyond that. White clothing only.

Again.

TRADITION.

it was already annoying that he did not let her use her black scarf earlier in the day. She was always more of herself in it. Not the cold ceremonial white.

It was just a color. But to her, it was everything.

At such a time, she had forgotten the strange thing she had seen, and why she rushed into the room in the first place.

A memory stirred in her.

She had been seven, locked in the cellar for punishment after defying a tutor.

There had been no light—just endless black. Fear curled around her like snakes. She had been so scarred of the dark.

Her father had thought it ridiculous that she was scarred of the dark and left her to her fear. In his own words, "If you are afraid of the dark, how do you want to become a Slave master and carry the Vaelcrest name? Let it eat you, until you learn how to eat it back."

But then, her mother came.

She brought a single candle, kneeling beside her in the dark.

She looked at her daughter, and understood the depths of her fear.

“Do you know why the sky is black when the stars are brightest?” her mother whispered

Thalia had shaken her head.

“Because only in darkness can you see what is truly yours. Wear it. Own it. Until it obeys you.

She had never forgotten those words.

Back then had been the beginning. Instead of allowing the darkness 'eat her', she had learnt to wear it proudly.

Back in the office, Thalia straightened.

“Maybe I am stubborn,” she said quietly.

Then louder:

“But it’s the only part of her you didn’t manage to kill.”

Cassian’s eyes twitched.

“Thalia—”

She immediately held back her tongue. She could feel his anger. Even though he never raised his voice on his children, it was still there.

And maybe it was because of the way he trained them, she had an innate fear for him.

Then again, most people did.

Nevertheless Thalia saw her father in a much different light.

The man out in the open world for the nobles to admire and respect was a different man back home.

She had seen it with the way he treated their mother before her passing.

No... that was what drove her to her death. It was that cage she so desperately wanted to leave, to escape.

Luckily, she found her solace in the church of light, just as her mother did.

But that had not been enough for her.

It was why Thalia wanted... more.

Cassian raised a brow. "It would be blessing from the wise king not to vex me." He turned back to what he had been doing. "Go, dress like a true Vaelcrest, and then return to make your report about 'this' slave, and we shall treat the matter."

Thalia bit down hard. But nodded, "yes father." She gave a bow and left fast. Mind made up on what she was going to do.

Her own way, of course.

She returned to Velma who was now sitting, resting against the wall with the bloody symbol on it.

Thalia spoke up addressing Velma. "I'll go straight to the point. Tell me. Why is a Red—Stitched sister, one of the royal slaves from a fallen Kingdom."

Velma raised her head to her.

If Oliver was here, he would not believe his sister could give such a gaze.

She was like a totally different person.

"You won't believe me even if I told you..." Velma whispered. And then she moved.

It was with speed and precision, her fingers, digging into Thalia’s chest.

Thalia looked down, surprise plastered on her face.

"How...!? The Slave sigil..." she coughed up blood, staining her pale skin and from her chest, running down like a waterfall.

"... you should not be able to...."

"Attack you? True!" Velma spoke up. "But there are secrets about the Slave Sigil, you will never know about. For one, you can't brand one already branded."

Thalia did not say it, but there were even more questions. After all, she was not weak. And could feel that Velma should be weaker than her.

Thalia fell to the ground, her eyes filled with so much regret. So much she wanted to do in this world.

To make her mother proud. To be free from her fate... To be a Red-Stitched Sister. She should have listened to her father. She should just stayed in her white.

Once she fell. Velma leaned in, and without hesitation, she dug into Thalia’s flesh. Feeding on it.

The next time she raised her head, her face had moved, morphed, becoming Thalia’s...