"Go do the laundry you disgusting scum! A second-tier ranking mage yanked Quinn up from his sleep.
The boy rubbed his palms on his eyes in exhaustion, tired from the workload of errands he ran throughout the day. He yawned in hunger, as his eyes slowly settled on the figure before him.
"It's barely two minutes since I slept off. Can't you give me some more time to sleep? As you can see, I'm tired already,". Quinn complained, hoping that the mage would understand him.
"Give you more time? The mage scoffed. "Is your audacity for me? He questioned.
"No. But–"
"Then obey my command. It's not my fault you're not one of the gifted. Neither are you someone with supernatural talents. Your only talent is running errands around the temple. Or do you want to be kicked out of the place you desperately wanted to be in at the first place? The mage asked with a malicious grin.
The helpless look on Quinn's face was enough confirmation to the mage that he had already gotten Quinn in his vulnerable State.
Quinn knew too well how he struggled to get chosen as one of the disciples in the temple. It's been over twenty years since the soulless monsters murdered his parents in cold blood. He was little then. He never saw the face of his parents.
He was told how his parents died by one of the female mages who worked in the orphanage where he grew up.
And it was a statutory law in the land of Eudoria that once a child reaches eighteen years in the orphanage, he was either to be adopted or sent away.
But in the case of Quinn, no one was willing to adopt him. So the orphanage had no option but to send him out into the streets to fend for himself.
Quinn spent two years on the street struggling to make ends meet. He was living for the sake of living. He had no purpose. No goals.
All that changed when a public announcement was made for youngsters who wanted to get chosen as a disciple into the town-hallowed temple. A place where people with abilities were trained to hone their skills and perfect their magical abilities.
Since their world was already on the brink of total destruction, the last hope for humanity fell into the hands of the mages who were seen as the apex defenders of mankind against the horse of monsters.
Pathetic.
Well, Quinn saw it as an opportunity to leave the street and be a defender of humanity. If not for anything, he'll avenge his parent's death. He felt like there was more to his parent's death than what the female mages had told him.
After passing all the requirements necessary to be chosen as one, Quinn was finally chosen as a disciple. However, his little hopes were dashed when he discovered he was not among the gifted.
The implications of not being gifted resulted in one being thrown out of the temple or sent back to whatever hole they crawled out from.
Those whose parents were influential enough begged on their wards' behalf, paying heavily for them to get at least a special kind of training.
Those who were rather unfortunate were sent away with no one to speak on their behalf. And this category was where Quinn belonged.
In the bid to stay at the temple at all cost, driven by the conviction he had been chosen by the gods to vanquish the evil that plagued the land, Quinn begged the high priest of the temple, an S-class ranking mage to allow him to stay at the cost of doing menial jobs around the temple.
Of course, the man had let him stay. In this world, mages were grouped or ranked according to their abilities or how powerful they mastered their elements. They had first-class mages. These mages are the novice. Then the second class, followed by the third, and then the S-class mages.
The S-class mages were considered so powerful that it takes one year to attain such a ranking. Those in the S class tier are seen as elite in their world.
Another higher-ranked mage was the A-class mage. These types of mages had the power to bend the laws of the universe to do their bidding. But for thousands of years, only one person was able to attain such a tier, and that mage, as they said, died a mysterious death.
As Quinn slowly got up and headed to do the laundry, the voice of the mage stopped him from taking his next step.
"When you're done, come take my underwear and wash them."
Anger almost consumed Quinn. He wanted to punch the mage in his face, but he remembered that he had no powers compared to a third-class mage. So he inwardly laughed and stormed out of the place.
On getting to the laundry, he noticed that there was a lot of washing to do.
Quinn took a moment to grumble. Was this what was waiting till he was granted a gift by the gods?
As far as he could remember, he had spent months praying and asking for a gift in the temple of light. He spent countless nights reading books about the arcane and secretly practicing on his own. But in the end, all his efforts seemed to be futile.
After using five hours to finish the laundry, he decided to rest. But first, he must go to the sacred altar inside the temple and pray to the gods with the already deteriorating faith he had.
They said faith moves mountains right?
But from Quinn's experience, only money moves mountains.
Money.
Quinn walked into the temple, passing numerous mages who were busy with one activity or another. Marble statues of gods and goddesses lined the walls, depicting the Temple's sacredness.
As he approached the altar, a soft rustling sound caught his attention. His curiosity piqued, he moved closer, careful to remain unseen. Peering through the ornate curtains that draped the altar, his eyes widened in shock and disbelief at the sight before him.
There, on the sacred ground of the altar, the High Priest stood locked in an embrace with a female mage.
Quinn recognized her as Lysandra, a powerful and respected mage within the temple's ranks. The scene that unfolded before him, got the two figures entangled in a forbidden act.
Lysandra's eyes were filled with a mixture of pleasure and vulnerability as the High Priest's hands roamed her body, tracing delicate paths across her curves.
"Pull down your robes and underwear."
A finger of nausea poked Quinn's stomach.
"I told you I'm not going to fuck you. Do what I say," the high priest seductively said.
Quinn's throat went dry.
Quinn's initial shock slowly transformed into a whirlwind of emotions. His belief in the sanctity of the temple and its leaders was shattered, replaced by a sense of confusion and moral conflict. He had always revered the High Priest as a figure of unwavering virtue and wisdom.
Who would have thought that behind the veil of the temple lies something scandalous?
As Quinn watched, his eyes flickered between the High Priest's commanding presence and Lysandra's vulnerability. It was as if the boundaries of their roles had evaporated, replaced by a shared desire and a desperate need for connection.
Quinn watched with his jaw wide open as the high priest showered hot kisses on the mages, while his hand roamed about her body, touching delicate paths of her that made her moan in ecstasy.
Just as the high priest was about to pull his robed garment, Quinn gasped audibly, which made the high priest stop pulling down his garment.