Taren sat alone in the library, surrounded by towering shelves of books that lined the room from floor to ceiling. The sunlight streamed in through the large windows, casting long shadows across the mahogany table where he sat, a book open before him. The words on the page spoke of heroes, revolutions, and movements that sought to right the wrongs of the world—battles fought to end oppression and bring about justice.
He had become captivated by these stories, reading them late into the night, long after his brother Orin had gone to sleep. But it wasn't just the tales themselves that gripped him—it was the growing realization that his own life was one of unfathomable privilege compared to the suffering of others, especially the slaves he had once known.
Taren closed the book, his thoughts drifting to his own past. The memories came rushing back—the fear, the hunger, the cruelty. He remembered the weight of chains, the hopelessness in the eyes of the other slaves. They had all lived under the thumb of masters who saw them as less than human, tools to be used and discarded. Even now, those memories filled him with a sense of guilt. How could he have spent so many years living in luxury while others suffered?
Mark and Clara had saved him, just as they had saved Orin. They had given him a life beyond his wildest dreams, a life where he never wanted for anything. But that realization only deepened the shame gnawing at him. He knew that Mark and Clara possessed unimaginable power, but they didn't use it to stop the injustices beyond the boundaries of their property. Why? They could change the world, couldn't they?
A spark of anger flickered within him. He respected and loved them deeply, but as he sat there, the thought burned hotter—how could they stand by and let this continue? He slammed the book shut, standing up abruptly. There was only one way to confront these feelings: he needed to talk to them.
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Taren found Mark and Clara in the ballroom, the sound of music drifting through the large, ornate space. They were dancing, gracefully moving in sync, their steps light and practiced. Mark, tall and elegant, led with ease while Clara, as radiant as ever, laughed softly as she spun. Their happiness filled the room, and for a moment, Taren hesitated, feeling guilty for wanting to disrupt such a joyful moment.
But his resolve hardened. He had to know why they hadn't acted, why they allowed the suffering to persist when they had the means to stop it—at least that's how it seemed to him.
He waited, leaning against the doorway, watching them finish their dance. When they finally noticed him, Clara smiled warmly. "Taren, darling! What's that serious look on your face? Have you come to ask me to dance?"
Mark chuckled, brushing his hair back as he caught his breath. "Or maybe he's here to give us a lesson in proper ballroom etiquette?"
Taren managed a small smile, appreciating the light banter between them, but his heart was heavy with the questions that weighed on his mind. "I wanted to talk to you both about something… serious."
Clara's playful demeanor shifted as she noticed the tension in his voice. She nodded toward Mark, and they walked over to where Taren stood, concern etched on their faces.
"What's troubling you, Taren?" Clara asked, her voice soft but alert.
Taren took a deep breath, trying to keep his emotions in check. "I've been reading a lot lately about justice—about fighting against injustice. It's made me think about my past, and… the others. The other slaves, the ones who didn't have someone to save them like you did with Orin and me."
Mark and Clara exchanged a glance, sensing where this conversation was headed.
Taren continued, his voice firmer now. "I know you have powers—amazing powers. I've seen what you can do. But it feels wrong that while we live in comfort here, people are still suffering. Slavery still exists out there, and I don't understand why you haven't done anything to stop it."
Clara sighed, a sadness passing over her features. She reached out and placed a hand on his arm. "Taren, I understand why you feel this way. Truly, I do. But you need to understand that our powers… they aren't limitless. They only work within the boundaries of this property."
Mark nodded in agreement. "I'm weak to the heat outside, Taren. I wouldn't last long beyond the property's borders, and Clara—well, you know her reliance on champagne. Neither of us can influence the world outside for at least another hundred years, and even then, our powers would still have their limits."
"But you could do something, couldn't you?" Taren pressed. "If you can't go out into the world, then why not bring the world here? Why not bring in the slaves, like you did with me and Orin? Protect them here, under the veil of this place."
Mark and Clara looked at each other again, the weight of his words sinking in. There was a long pause before Mark spoke, his tone more thoughtful now. "That would require us to lift the veil that keeps this place hidden from the world. It's… risky, but I suppose it's possible."
Clara's expression softened, and she nodded slowly. "If we did that, we'd need to expand the property. We would need more resources—houses for the people we bring in. And the money… we'd need merchants to fund this, and that means opening a hotel or trade post."
Taren's heart quickened with hope. "Then let's do it. If you can't change the world outside, then bring the world here. Protect them like you protected us. Please."
Clara sighed, then smiled, though there was a sadness in her eyes. "You're right, Taren. It's time we did more."
Mark straightened, determination filling his voice. "Alright, we'll expand. I'll bring down the veil and build the structures we need. The merchants can pay for the upkeep, and we'll create a haven—a real haven for those who need it."
With a wave of his hand, Mark began the process. The air around them shimmered as the veil that had long hidden their sanctuary from the outside world dissolved. In the distance, the property boundaries expanded, as if the earth itself was shifting to accommodate more people, more homes, more hope.
Haven would grow, and with it, the dream of a safe refuge for those who needed it most. Taren felt a swell of pride in his chest, knowing that together, they were taking the first steps toward a future where fewer would have to suffer in silence.