Bilgewater Baptism

Her thoughts swirled like a storm, thick and tumultuous. His words—harsh, cold, unyielding—were an icy rain that pelted against her fragile resolve. Break free from her chains? That was a concept so foreign to Delaeni that it was like trying to understand a language she had never heard. But then there was the alternative; punishment, humiliation at his hands. She could already feel the sting of imagined blows prickling on her skin, the taste of shame bitter in her mouth.

Make your choice, he said, and suddenly Delaeni was drowning.

She cast a wide-eyed look at him, her fear reflecting back in his cold, implacable gaze. His proximity was suffocating, his heat a stark contrast to the icy fear coursing through her veins. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Her mind screamed, urging her to plea, to beg, to apologize for an offense she had not committed. Yet, her throat felt as though it was clamped shut. The silence stretched between them, heavy and fraught with tension.

Finally, she croaked out a response, her voice barely above a whisper. "I... I-I c-can't... I-I’m nnot supposed to … I w-won't." She stammered on each word, overwhelmed by the apprehension that gripped her. “I don’t decide. It's nnot my p-place.” Her large doe-like eyes pleaded for clemency, the unshed tears pooling in her eyes. Whether it was a refusal to change, a refusal to fall for his trap, a refusal to be punished, even Delaeni herself couldn't decipher.

Panic surged within her, the mere thought of disobedience triggering a flurry of anxiety. “Please...” she whimpered, her voice filled with an earnest plea for mercy as she writhed before him. His gaze remained unaltered, unwavering in its cold intensity. The silence that followed was crushing, a cacophony of unsaid words echoing within the walls of her mind.

"Delaeni Terblanche"