A large, bright red sun reflected its fluorescent rays across the entirety of The Depths. Morrow squinted his eyes as he glanced at the glowing sphere which resided at the peak of an onyx monolith. This wasn't a real sun, it was an artificially crafted one, formed by a spell that the Monarch casted himself. If it weren't for him, the kingdom would be in a deep never-ending darkness for eternity.
Morrow remembered the fairytales he heard of a real, naturally formed sun that existed on the surface. A much larger sun that could be seen from anywhere in the world if you looked at the right time. He and his brother always hoped to see it with their own eyes one day.
Those were just fairytales, of course.
Morrow stumbled his way forward as the two Enforcers silently escorted him. Usually, Enforcers would have to worry about their exile running away, however, since Morrow's cane was temporarily confiscated for the ritual, he struggled with even the simplest movements. He couldn't run away even if he wanted to.
After a short walk from the waiting room, Morrow finally caught sight of the ritual grounds, where inside awaited the person who would curse him forever. Ironically, it was the most beautiful building he had ever seen.
Four large black pillars stood high, connected by walls made of a pristine white material that was unfamiliar to Morrow. The false sun's illumination pierced through its large tinted windows - giving the beams of light an exquisite azure hue as they entered the building.
Morrow didn't have the time nor physical capabilities to travel far from home, so it wouldn't be a surprise to him if buildings as grand as this one were normal in richer sectors of the kingdom.
After a few moments of staring, one of the Enforcers shoved Morrow, almost causing him to fall on his face.
"Go."
Finally, with the two Enforcers following behind him, Morrow walked into the sanctum.
The inside of the sanctum closely resembled a stadium - hundreds of people were seated in a half-circle, most of them aristocrats. Some chatted amongst themselves, some were dozing off, some even had delicious snacks that were being sold by a vendor. The whole stadium was so… casual, like they were all here to watch a friendly competition and have a good time.
This demeanor changed as soon as they caught sight of Morrow.
All chatter slowly died out. An uneasy feeling crawled up his back as almost every single person in every single row turned towards him. One thing was in common with them all: they all stared at him the same way. All of them had the same look of pure disgust on their face, even the children. They looked down at him as if he had committed the worst atrocity any human could ever commit.
Why… why are they all staring at me like that?
Morrow had never put too much thought into why he had to be a Wretch, he had just accepted the fact that it would happen one day. But now that he was here… in front of all these people… it just made no sense to him.
Averting his eyes from the malicious crowd, Morrow instead decided to look forward. In the center of the sanctum was a large grey circle which had a plethora of runes inscribed along its circumference.
A few steps ahead of this circle, was a throne. Sitting atop this throne, was a man.
The tall man seemed slightly amused as he stared down at Morrow with a calm, dignified look in his gray eyes. He had short silver hair and was adorned by a pristine silver plated armor set that had an elegant golden design flowing across the breastplate. Plastered on the pauldron of it was the same emblem of a great-sword from the Enforcer's armor.
To the side of his throne rested a spear that had an intricate pattern along its polished black surface.
Morrow stood silently as he stared at the man who would curse him forever.
One of the Enforcers, who was now kneeling behind Morrow, spoke:
"Kneel, fool! You're in the presence of Rein Aelius, son of the Monarch."
Rein turned his gaze to the kneeling Enforcer and grimaced.
"Do you think I need you to speak for me?"
His voice was sharp and regal.
The Enforcer looked up at the Monarchs son, silent for a few moments, before mustering up the courage to speak once more: "No, s-"
The Enforcers sentence was swiftly interrupted by the sound of his steel armor crashing into the ground beneath him. His entire body was being pushed into the stone floor as if gravity had suddenly increased tenfold. The man desperately pushed his hands against the ground, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't move his body even a single inch. Blood slowly started to drip out of the crevices in his armor as he groaned in agony. The intensity of this unseen force rapidly increased, in just a few more seconds there would be nothing left but scraps of metal and a bloody corpse.
"S-s….sorry, sir."
"Idiot. Someone like you should know when to speak."
Rein turned his gaze back to Morrow, and as soon as he did, the unseen force faded away. The Enforcer, now a bloody mess, trembled as he pushed himself up and got back on his knees.
Rein yawned before finally addressing Morrow.
"Boy, what is your name and why are you here today?"
Morrow gritted his teeth.
"My name is Morrow. I've been deemed useless."
"Ah, you're one of those. Couldn't you at least commit an interesting crime? Bastards like you are a dime a dozen."
Rein chuckled, amused by his own joke.
Afterwards, the room was silent for a short time.
"Are you going to say anything else? These are your last few moments before you become a Wretch, certainly there are some important words you'd like to say? Perhaps… tell me how much you hate me? Beg for forgiveness? Come on, say something."
"Why must this happen to me?"
Rein took a deep breath.
"How do you think this kingdom was built, hm? Do you think it was built by people like you? Of course not, you pathetic fool! It was built by people who had the skills to do what needed to be done. Builders built the walls that keep monsters out of the kingdom. Doctors create medicine and save the lives of our citizens. Casters ascend and master spellcasting in order to protect those who need to be protected. All of these people serve a purpose."
His steely gray cape softly waved as he stood up, grabbing the black spear that rested beside his throne.
"Every individual living in a society has a purpose to fulfill within that society. Tell me, Morrow, what is your purpose?"
"..."
Rein let out an exasperated sigh.
"I thought so."
Without warning, Morrow felt an invisible force grab his entire body, forcing him into the center of the circle. Invisible chains wrapped tightly around his wrists, forcing the back of his right hand to face Rein as his arm now stood perfectly still. The runes along the circle began to emit a beautiful violet glow as Morrow's now paralyzed body kneeled.
Rein walked forward, the edge of his spear emitting the same violet glow as the runes.
The ritual was about to commence.
As Rein walked towards him, Morrow's face contorted into an expression of anger.
No, was it sadness?
Malice?
You couldn't tell. Whatever Morrow was feeling at that moment was impossible to decipher.
Morrow himself didn't even understand what he was feeling.
Now holding the spear directly in front of him, Rein aimed with calm precision, pointing directly at the back of Morrow's hand. Slowly, he brought the spear closer and closer.
At this very last moment, before the spear touched him, Morrow stared straight into Rein's eyes with an inexplicable expression across his face.
As soon as the spear touched his hand, Morrow's body was overwhelmed by a seething pain. It felt as if molten lava was poured into his hand, traveled across his arm, and began melting all of his insides. Every second the spear touched him felt like an unbearable eternity.
Morrow wanted to scream in agony, but he couldn't, the twisted spell had completely removed his ability to talk. It also now paralyzed his face, removing the inexplicable expression and making it seem as if he was calm as ever. He was forced to bear this intense pain in a seemingly tranquil silence.
It hurts…
It hurts so much…
Please, stop it!
Of course, it didn't stop. It kept going. Rein continued to meticulously carve his spear across the back of Morrow's hand with a smile on his face, forming a symbol on it as the crowd silently watched. Morrow didn't even know how long it had been. The unbearable pain made it impossible to think straight.
Then, for a few moments, a different, otherworldly feeling attacked Morrow.
It felt as if a hand had wrapped around his soul and began to mold it into something it shouldn't be. This pain was much worse than the previous pain, as it didn't feel physical, it attacked a sixth sense that was previously incomprehensible to Morrow.
His soul was being torn apart and rebuilt.
As both pains bombarded his body, Morrow quickly reached his limit. He felt as if he would die from shock at any moment, but he didn't.
Then, despite both of his eyes still being open, everything faded into nothing.