Boreas walked slowly around the room. A mix of pride and hate shone through his calm, collected exterior. Pride because his five year old daughter didn't cry, hate for the exact same reason. "Get the forge heated up, I need those rings now," his voice made the ice people running about look up, first at him then at the little girl laying at the dinnertable. She was tall for her age with the body of a warrior, a fighter, and she was looking at Boreas with a withering look of hate. Her eyes probably should be filled with fear, but even though she was afraid she would never, ever let her father have the pleasurs of seeing that fear. A hero of Olympus and a member of Camp Halfblood would never let their enemies see them afraid, and since her father had already tries to kill her more times than she cared to count since her second birthday, she really couldn't care less about what exactly this year's present was. All she cared about was that it would hurt
The first scream of the night resonated through the entire building accompanied by the sizzling, and smell of burnt flesh. The celestial bronze rings being implanted in her skin were red hot and glowing with heat. Each time a new one was being put on her skin she grit her teeth and tried desperately to not scream. One ring for each tight, one in each leg, one in each upper arm and underarm, one around the waist and the last most painfull one yet: her neck sizzled as the ring burned it's way down till it hit bone and it twisted it's way around to the throat of the girl as a blood curling scream ripped itself from her. Then they started burning her skin with sticks, burning her flesh, branding it with the emblems of the gods.
When they where finnished with her they dropped her at the entrance to Camp Halfblood. The last thing she heard before her mind went black was "Carmelita, what did he do?"
