Chapter 73: Good Morning Dear [1]
Soul Ink a substance that not only bound flesh, but the very essence of a person’s being.
It’s crafted from the distilled essence of nightshade flowers and the blood of bound spirits, though it appeared as an ordinary black ink when dormant.
But once inscribed upon skin and activated through the ritual, it created an unbreakable tether between souls.
The binding worked through intricate runic patterns tattooed into the flesh, usually hidden beneath clothing where they couldn’t be easily seen or tampered with.
Once the ink settled into the skin and the binding words were spoken, the contract became absolute.
A slave marked with soul ink found themselves incapable of disobedience, not through fear of punishment, but through an impossible compulsion that overrode to their very own will.
They could not raise a hand against their master, could not speak lies to them, could not even harbor thoughts of true rebellion without experiencing extreme pain that seemed to tear at their very soul.
The ink created a psychic leash that grew tighter the more one struggled against it. Worse still, the master could feel their slave’s general emotional state.
The only ways to break a soul ink binding were the master’s death, the master’s willing to release, or the complete destruction of the binding runes, which often meant victim’s death.
Most slaves learned quickly that acceptance was the only path to any semblance of peace.
It was, in every sense, the perfect tool for those who trafficked in human misery.
The next day arrived...