A/N: If you are under 21, or whatever the age is in your country, get out. This is simply a product of my sick, twisted mind. Did you get offended? I warned you.

Summary: Jasnah teaches a harsher lesson on philosophy than Shallan is comfortable with. Non-consent, rape, lemon.

'Philosophy in action, my dear.'

Ten minutes later, Shallan was contemplating those words as she and Jasnah Kholin walked through the streets of Kharbranth. She had tried probing her mentor for where they were going, and received complete silence as her answer. Sometimes, Jasnah seemed to leap between extremes. She was either a focused, calculating scholar, a wry and carefree woman, or... She didn't really have a name for it yet, or a way to describe it, but Jasnah's third face was something that made her nervous when it came. And she had seen it a few minutes ago.-

The streets of Kharbranth were barely visible while the moons were dark. The Hateful Hour, the Shin called it, the time between Salas and Nomon, when the sky would be dark if not for the stars. What seemed to well organised during the day was now a series of ominous twists and turns, streets that curved into themselves, leaving dark areas wherein there would be no light to see by. Still, she felt as if every shadow were watching her, and every now and then, though it may have been her imagination, there were footsteps.

Jasnah broke the silence between them first.

'What would you say on using Soulcasters to kill?'

Shallan tried to register that question. A Soulcaster? Killing? The two concepts seemed fundamentally opposed; what Jasnah was suggesting meant blasphemy, even by her standards. She tried to decide how she should respond; humor Jasnah, play along? But no, these weeks in Kharbranth had taught her not to suppress her opinion. Whether or not Jasnah approved of it.

'Brightness, I'm sorry, but... That's blasphemy. I would think,' she continued, 'that even if you refuse to believe you could respect the belief.'

Jasnah nodded. 'Then I will respect your opinions; whatever happens, all you need to do is shout 'Soulcaster', and I will use it. But only if you ask it.'

Shallan gulped. 'Brightness, if I may... Where are we?'

'This is a small avenue between the Theater District and the Temple District. In the past two months, fifteen women have passed through here unaccompanied, and all fifteen were raped, before being sent on, several of them lighteyed. The Watch refuses to investigate; it is clear someone is bribing them.'

Jasnah pulled back her Freehand sleeve, allowing the Soulcaster on her wrist to catch the light. It reflected small fragments to the shadows. Next, she pulled out three firemarks from her safepouch, then tossed them into the air.

'Brightness...' Shallan muttered. 'What are you doing?'

'Calling our hosts. The Soulcaster is our only means of defense; and I will only use it if you ask me to.'

Shallan turned towards the way they had come. A shadowed silhouette blocked it off.

She prepared to run through the alleyway, but Jasnah gripped her shoulder. 'Three men at the other side. We can't escape.'

Footsteps, from either side of the alley. Jasnah pulled the Soulcaster from her wrist and slipped it into her safepouch, still easily accessible. Shallan swore at herself; why didn't she bring her knife?

'You know,' a malicious voice echoed through the alleyway, 'young women shouldn't be out here on their own.'

Shallan jumped, forming both hands into fists. There might be a way to escape without the Soulcaster; she just had to play her cards right. 'You are obstructing Jasnah Kholin,' she yelled out. 'Let us pass in peace, and you will be allowed to live.' The words sounded hollow, and her voice trembled as she spoke.

'Jasnah?' Another voice echoed through the alleyway. 'The heretic? And you're, what, her scribe?' His tone deepened. 'Her slut? Her whore?'

A third voice pitched in. 'The whole city knows about her unholy interests. Now we good men of the Almighty-' That brought out a few chuckles from the other men - 'are here to fulfill his will, and teach her and her whore what it feels like to have a real man in you.'

Four men closed in around them. If Shallan had brought her knife, she might be able to fight through two of them and escape. As it was, she had no weapons. But her eyes went to the sheathe at Jasnah's side. Thank the Almighty - Jasnah Kholin didn't intend to use the Soulcaster, or even let them get raped; she was going to fight her way out. But what could one woman, even with a sword, do against four men? Shallan felt her heart clench in her chest. They might have a chance, if they both struck out at once.

Shallan leaped at the two men behind them as Jasnah drew her sword. One of them grabbed her arm, the other her leg, and both of them spun her to the ground. There was a knee planted on her back. Still, Shallan held out hope. Jasnah would kill the two near her, then save Shallan. If she believed in any two things, they were the Almighty above all else, and in Jasnah Kholin. She would still be saved. She would...

Shallan froze at the sound of a sword hitting the ground. Jasnah had bowed, bent to one knee, and dropped her sword. Now she stood up, and kicked it towards the men. One of them threw away his knife and took the sword.

Jasnah turned to Shallan. 'Tell me when,' she mouthed, then turned back to the men.

The two men Shallan had attacked converged on her, one on either side. Shallan lashed out, but they caught her arms and pinned her back to the floor. One of them started unbuttoning her dress from the back, before letting impatience strike him and slicing it down with his knife. Shallan screamed, but that scream did nothing to hinder them. She lashed out, but it did nothing. They continued to cut until her dress was sliced in half, leaving her in a bra and underclothes.

She twisted her head, trying to look at something, anything, that wasn't the men attacking her. From what she could see, Jasnah was in a similar predicament; her dress had been sliced down the front, exposing her unconfined breasts. A strange thought for the situation entered Shallan's mind; no bra? Jasnah might as well be walking around with an exposed safehand. The least appropriate thought entered Shallan's mind at the sight, something she could only describe as a spark of jealousy. Why had Jasnah been blessed with such breasts, such a slim waistline, while Shallan had neither? Such glossy, silken black hair, while Shallan had rare crimson on her head; a crimson that was too rare to be beautiful and just rare enough to be freakish.

One of her attackers placed a hand on the strap that held Shallan's bra, before giving a sharp tug to snap it. The pain made her want to scream as the straps rebounded on her nearly nude form, leaving both part of her back and her breasts red from the blow. The man then turned to her panties, ready to rip them apart in the same way.

In that moment, Shallan hated Jasnah Kholin. How dare she put her through this? Jasnah had sworn she wouldn't fight them with the Soulcaster unless Shallan asked her to; and Shallan swore to hold her silence. Let Jasnah suffer for putting Shallan through this. Let her suffer it through. Shallan's piety was her conviction, and it was stronger than Jasnah's apathy.

That was put to the test when her panties snapped in much the same way as her bra. One of the men ran a finger along her slit; Shallan shivered.

'Now tell me... why do good girls shave down there?' The man asked.

Shallan kept her silence, leading to a slap across her buttocks.

'Ah well,' the man muttered, 'better for me.' She felt a bulge pressing against her slit. Focus, Shallan. Focus on anything but what is happening. The stone under her bare knees and elbows, the cold stone under her bare knees and elbows, the sharp pebbles on the stone...

No, don't think about what's going to happen, Shallan. She glanced around, looking for something else to catch her attention. The other men, now naked - no, not that. The black sky - no, not that. And in her attempted apathy from the situation, her eyes went to Jasnah.

She had been forced out of her dress, and amid the horror of the situation, Shallan felt a sense of muted victory. Jasnah wouldn't be able to escape this situation if she tried; the Soulcaster was still in her safepouch.

Shallan cursed herself for the thought. She should be pitying Jasnah for what she was going through. But pity was reserved for those who were not to blame for their predicament, and who had not dragged you down with them. There was a man slamming into her from behind, his hands gripping her shoulders, while another waited patiently for his turn.

Jasnah caught her gaze - and smiled! Of anything she could have done, she chose to smile? She reached for a pebble on the ground, and closed her eyes, before dropping it. None of their rapists seemed to have noticed, but Shallan felt her heart constrict. It was no longer stone; it was a small ounce of blood, one of the Ten Essences. Jasnah could still Soulcast? How?

Shallan screamed as the man behind her finally entered. He tore through her hymen with no gentleness, his hips slamming against her buttocks. She couldn't tell how large he was, but her pussy felt stretched by the intrusion. One word, and it would be over. All she had to do was cry out for the Soulcaster, and it would all be over. How could Jasnah put her through this? But no, Soulcasting was a holy rite. Jasnah had blasphemed against the Almighty enough without murdering with His sacred tool. A tool meant to make food, not war. No, she would hold her silence, whatever the cost.

Whatever the cost.

Another man stepped in front of Shallan, before growling a threat. 'Open your mouth; if I feel any teeth, my friend behind you will switch to your ass.'

Almighty, no. So Shallan opened her mouth. The man barely hesitated before pushing in - and kept pushing, until his cock touched the back of her throat and his balls rested on her chin. She just about managed to avoid gagging, and had to keep taking deep breaths to maintain her air. She realized what those deep breaths meant, however, when her rapist moaned. Every time she inhaled, she inadvertently sucked. But there was nothing to be done about it if she wanted to breathe.

Shallan tried to resist it, but it came through out through her mouth regardless. A soft moan, now that the man hammering into her from behind had settled into a steady rhythm. Thankfully, none of them noticed.

After another few minutes, the man fucking her mouth came, his seed warm and salty, running onto her chin and down her neck. Shallan tried to pull out, but the man clutched her head in both hands, forcing her to swallow most of it. Next, he moved on to Jasnah; stepping out of Shallan's face, giving her a clear view of her mentor.

Jasnah Kholin was taking one man from behind while another fucked her face, barely giving any resistance. The man who had left Shallan grasped one of the arms she was using to hold herself up, and rather than protest, Jasnah took his now limp cock in one hand, running it along, paying particular attention to the ball sack. How could she be taking such care to please her rapist? A cold realization hit Shallan. Her reason for remaining strong and not calling for the Soulcaster had been to force Jasnah to suffer the consequences of her actions. A vain and selfish reason, and the Almighty had a way with turning selfishness against her. But Jasnah was not suffering; she was enjoying it!

Shallan nearly yelled for the Soulcaster then, but a sensation cut her short. It started as small waves of pleasure coursing through her, then larger, then larger, until the pain was forgotten. Shallan's world became her and the cock thundering into her pussy, and nothing more. She had heard other women describe it, but Shallan hadn't imagined what it would feel like. Her moans could no longer be suppressed, and the man behind her clearly heard them, hammering into her with even more force at a faster pace.

A moment later, he pulled out. The emptiness felt like a void had been opened in Shallan, a space that needed to be filled.

'Why...' she moaned.

The man didn't answer, instead rubbing his cock between her ass cheeks, before spreading them apart. Shallan felt dread grasp the pit of her stomach.

'No... Its not supposed to go in there... Please... anywhere but there... fuck me again, but not there...'

He didn't listen, slamming into her ass, forcing his way through. Shallan screamed for the second time that night; it was too tight, too tight. Didn't he realize it wouldn't fit in there? Oh fuck no, no, no, no no no no no no no no...

And then something happened, something Shallan almost refused to believe. Mixed in with the pain, there were occasional waves of... pleasure? The perfect mix, the perfect balance between the two, leaping between the two extremes. Shallan tried to suppress a moan; she might forgive herself for her earlier orgasm, but for this, she wouldn't. She failed, and her rapist heard her.

He laughed as he continued pounding into her. 'I've caught myself a little butt slut, then,' he said, chuckling. As much as Shallan wanted to refuse, to claim it was a moan of pain, she couldn't. Then she felt it coming again.

Shallan closed her eyes, and rode the sensation.

Hours later, Shallan opened her eyes. The sun was just rising on the horizon, illuminating the scene in a faint orange light. She felt the cold wind on her naked form, sending shivers along her limbs. What had happened? Then the memories started coming back to her. Jasnah... philosophy... an alleyway between the Theater and Temple districts... four men... no, eight... twelve... fifteen... How many had there been?

'Finally lucid, I see.' Jasnah spoke from somewhere out of her vision.

'What... what happened?'

She avoided the question. 'I'm impressed; all my other wards called for the Soulcaster before they're even stripped. But you... you lasted the entire night.'

''All your other wards?' So this was, what...' Shallan put as much hatred as she could into her next words, though they still fell flat. 'A test?'

'A test. To see how quickly you would break, and whether you would take the easy way out.'

Shallan got to her feet, turning to face Jasnah. 'I was unconscious while they fucked me! If I were awake, I would have yelled for the Soulcaster.'

Jasnah lay stretched out on the ground, as naked as Shallan. The thugs had apparently stolen their clothing as well, but even naked, Jasnah Kholin could look graceful. 'No,' she replied. 'You had every opportunity to call for the Soulcaster, but didn't. Instead, you let the pleasure take you. You were, believe it or not, awake the entire night.'

'What,' Shallan replied, 'actually happened last night?'

'I chose an alleyway notorious for its rapes, but without murders. You were never in any real danger. Then, we were both raped by four men several times, who then moved on. We were then raped by the next group that passed through not five minutes later, and the next, and the next. You were awake during all of it, but didn't call for the Soulcaster.'

Shallan didn't know how to reply, and so said the first thing that came to her mind. 'How... how will we get back? They stole our clothes, we can't just walk back like this.'

Jasnah smiled. 'I asked one of my trusted drivers to meet us here at a certain time. He should be here in... one hour, at least, no more than two. Don't worry, almost none of the groups recognized us, and those that do would hardly brag about having raped Jasnah Kholin and her ward. I'm guessing you've got questions about the Soulcaster?'

Shallan walked up to Jasnah and sat beside her. Strangely, there was none of the hatred she had felt during the rape left in her. Jasnah was just a scholar to her, a scholar who gave Shallan every opportunity to leave her test. There was a moment of eye contact, during which Shallan glanced away.

Jasnah broke the awkward silence. 'I know this isn't what you want to hear, but you had every opportunity to leave. You could have just yelled for the Soulcaster.'

'I know. Its just that...' Tears? No, not now, please, not now. 'I... I enjoyed it too much, Jasnah. I was raped, and I enjoyed it too much.'

Her mentor nodded, as if in understanding. 'My first time was in an alleyway very similar to this. I was raped all through the night and well into the next day, and felt the same way you do now. Then I realized, it wasn't a crime to enjoy it, just as it isn't a crime to enjoy bread and jam. Their actions were wrong, but our enjoyment was not.'

Despite herself, Shallan smiled. 'You hate jam.'

Jasnah laughed. 'Yes, I know. I'm a jam heretic too.'

And there was the moment. Shallan had usually considered her actions timid, even if her tongue were not. She would always wait for someone else to initiate something first. But not this time. She leaned in, and planted her arms around Jasnah, lips to lips. Instead of any resistance, her tongue was met with full compliance.

Shallan pulled out, realizing what she had done. 'I'm... I'm sorry... Ple-'

Jasnah placed a finger onto her lips. 'I'll have none of that; thank you.' She hesitated for a moment. 'For the kiss.'

Footsteps coming down the alleyway. Shallan paled, glancing around, before her mentor spoke up.

'More rapists. Hide, or draw their attention?'

Shallan laughed, deliberately, as loudly as she could, to catch their attention.