I’m a ‘Lily’.

  I’m that which my master desires.

  Be it a servant, a shield, a sword or just an object to “repopulate” the planet.

  I’m nothing, yet must be everything my master desires.

  We, the ‘Lilies’, are at the same time humans by birth, but not by education nor by the attitude given to us during our upbringing or after it. We are often seen as objects.

  Our “education” begins from a very young age. Neither of us remembers our parents; we don’t know what motherly love is, what fatherly protection is, what kindness is.

  We are taken at the prime age to be manipulated, to be made into the perfect, obedient toys.

  If a ‘Lily’ were to survive during the training and even “graduate” successfully, it doesn’t mean her hardships are over. Some of the few survivors may even say that the “training” was the easier part.

  It’ll all depend on the results the ‘Lily’ has shown during her training and the whims of her master.

  Male masters are the worst. I’m sure they often have their ‘Lily’ do things my imagination couldn’t even think of. How blessed I am to have such a caring and kind Mistress.

  ‘Lilies’ without owners don’t get to stay alive for long, but given their current low numbers, they must be a commodity everyone wants to possess in their greedy hands.

  The government takes the best ones and leaves a few for the aristocrats to enjoy. How they “enjoy” us is up to every aristocrat who owns a ‘Lily’ to decide.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  The ordinary people, the ragged plebs who barely manage to pay their taxes and survive, talk about us as if we were a rumour. For them, meeting with one of us in person was like a dream. Why they thought as such was unknown to me.

  We’re shown to the aristocrats as an attraction and at times – as toys. It happened once, but it marked all of us in a way we didn’t know. Luckily, neither of us became pregnant after that day. Or if there were any, they didn’t survive for long enough to be recognised as such.

  We are made for combat and to obey orders. We aren’t made to be parents. They didn’t teach us anything in theory about how humans procreate. Instead, they taught us about it in the worst way possible – such scum.

  If we somehow attract the attention of one of the “higher” aristocrats, our torturous being might become a bit more bearable. Such opportunities are rare and come late. Some ‘Lilies’ don’t live long enough to experience this opportunity. How lucky for them…

  The “trainers” or “supervisors” don’t want to anger the aristocrats after all. They restrict their actions to the picked ‘Lilies’, but those without owners are at their mercy. Not that they have any and no ‘Lily’ is spared during the nightmarish “training”. It’s pure torture, not training…

  At some point in our training, we are marked by a stigma of colourless lily on our backs – to differentiate us from the others, the “normal” people. On graduation, that stigma is completed by being coloured and the process of marking us for the rest of our lives is officially done.

  My Mistress once said she adored the art on my back, but, according to her, it was a pity that such beauty was a sight of being an object, not a person. She told me to show it proudly or hide it – whatever my heart desired.

  I think of myself as being a lucky ‘Lily’. There were many ordeals I had to endure, many pains to experience and I definitely cannot become normal, cannot feel the happiness normal people do, but at least I have been blessed with one thing.

  My master is the kindest person I have known. No, the kindest to ever exist!

  She doesn’t treat me as an object and sees me as her friend, as an equal! Is this what having a sister feels like? Seeing her smile is more than enough for me. Her happiness is everything I need to be happy.

  She’s the reason why, despite everything – my unknown parents never loving me, my robotic readiness to follow orders blindly – I find myself happy to be by her side.

  She helped develop my personality, freeing me from the cursed way they taught me and allowing me to think for myself.

  She’s a person I’ll gladly risk my life for.

  Maybe this is the reason why …