> "Two things dictate your living — the family you're born into, and the ability you're born with.
If you have none... woe betide you."
The words echoed through the vast, shadowed hall — a reminder, a curse, a law carved into the bones of the domain.
Chatter. Chatter.
Then—
Silence.
A deep voice rolled from a raised platform draped in darkness. Faint amber lanterns flickered across the chamber, their dying light barely piercing the haze. Hooded figures stood in solemn rows at the platform's edge, while others — seated farther back — were swallowed by shadow.
Below them, the hall teemed with slaves. Dozens — maybe hundreds — all pressed together, their chains clinking in a rhythm of despair.
At the entrance, two guards stood motionless, blank-faced, their thin black blades gleaming faintly under the fading light.
> "IT MAY BEGIN."
At once, chaos broke loose.
The crowd surged forward.
Some pushed to escape the back ranks, others shoved simply to breathe.
A small figure stumbled out from the mass — a boy, perhaps ten years old, clothes torn and gray with dirt, bones visible beneath his skin. His dark green eyes darted in panic beneath a tangle of messy black hair.
> "Move, child!" a harsh voice hissed from behind, shoving him forward again.
He stumbled, then froze.
In front of him stood one of the hooded figures.
The cloak swayed lightly, but what lay beneath it was wrong — a shadow that bent the light, an emptiness that seemed to breathe.
The boy tried to look into the hood, but saw only void.
A frail hand, pale as bone, emerged and grasped his wrist.
Cold. Too cold.
A murmur — words in a language older than fear — rolled out of the hooded figure's mouth.
The boy gasped as his arm flared with light — lines of darkish green spiraled through his veins, burning and twisting like roots digging into flesh.
Then—
Silence.
Every gaze in the hall turned toward him.
The boy's body trembled, his eyes wide with awe and pain.
Finally, the hooded figure spoke in a dry, lifeless voice:
> "Blessed by Nature.
His affinity lies with all that grows...
but his full potential he shall not reach till death."
The hall froze.
Then, from the depths of the platform — where even the lantern light dared not reach — came a voice.
Deep, detached. Final.
> "Useful," it said. "Send him in."
rate bro
Chains rattled.
The boy was dragged into the shadows.
And the next slave was pushed forward.