The Kingdom of Vallendor was known throughout the lands as the most prosperous and powerful of all. Behind its tall white walls, people lived in peace, seemingly protected by the magic of the ruling class. But beneath the surface, hidden in the shadows of the throne, lay a corruption so deep that even the kingdom's brightest minds could not see it.
Within the castle, in a chamber known only to a few, the air crackled with arcane energy. The royal summoners gathered around a vast, glowing circle inscribed with ancient symbols. Today was another summoning—another ritual to bring forth a being from another world. The king sat upon his gilded throne, watching, waiting. His eyes gleamed with hunger.
As the final incantation was spoken, the light within the circle flared, and a figure appeared.
**Leon** stood at the center of the room, dazed, his clothes unfamiliar, his surroundings disorienting. He felt something stir inside him, a presence deep in his core, something new but also strangely familiar. As his vision cleared, he saw the faces of the royal summoners, all watching him with expectant eyes.
"Another one," the king muttered from his throne, rising slowly. His voice carried a sinister edge, though it was masked with false politeness. "Tell me, stranger, what is your name?"
Leon blinked, still trying to process what had happened. He had been in a car accident—a flash of light—and now... now he was here, in this bizarre, medieval chamber. He swallowed, his throat dry. "Leon," he answered. "Where am I?"
"You stand in Vallendor," the king replied, stepping down from his throne, his robes trailing behind him. "You have been summoned here, chosen by fate itself. Tell me, what power do you wield?"
Leon hesitated, unsure of the answer. Then, as if in response to the king's question, he felt a surge within him—a torrent of energy that filled him to the brim. It was like nothing he had ever felt before. But with it came a strange sensation, a weight upon his soul. It wasn't just raw power—it was tied to something deeper. His thoughts, his conscience, were suddenly intertwined with the magic he could feel coursing through him.
"I... I think it's magic," Leon said, his voice uncertain. "But it's connected to my... conscience. I can feel it."
The king's eyes narrowed, intrigued. "Conscience magic," he murmured. "A rare and powerful gift." He motioned to his advisors, who hurried forward to take Leon into custody. "You will be taken to your chambers to... rest," the king said, though Leon detected the faintest hint of malice in his words.
---
Days passed, and Leon quickly realized that he was not free. Though he was treated well, with comfortable quarters and meals, he was watched at all times. Guards lingered at his door, and the castle's mages kept him under constant surveillance.
Leon spent his days alone, testing his power in secret. The conscience magic was unlike anything he had imagined. It gave him access to immense magical energy, but there was a catch: the more his conscience resisted, the more it affected his ability to use it. If his heart was burdened with doubt, guilt, or hesitation, his magic weakened. Conversely, when his conscience was clear, his power grew almost limitless.
But the king never allowed him to test his full potential. He was a prisoner, kept under lock and key, like a caged beast waiting to be unleashed.
---
Several weeks later, the summoning chamber was once again filled with the hum of magic. Another figure appeared in the circle—this time a tall, muscular man with a hardened expression. His clothes were torn, his hands rough from years of manual labor.
"**Ryu**," the man said before anyone could ask. His voice was deep and calm, but there was a fire in his eyes.
The king looked on, amused. "And what power do you possess, Ryu?"
Ryu closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the same strange sensation Leon had felt weeks earlier—a surge of power tied to his very being. "It's not magic," Ryu said after a pause. "It's strength. I can feel it stacking... growing with every breath I take. But it's... connected to my thoughts. To my conscience."
"Conscience stacking," the king whispered to himself, an unsettling smile forming on his lips. "Interesting."
Just like Leon, Ryu was taken to a chamber—though his was closer to a cell. The king had seen the raw strength Ryu possessed, and unlike Leon, he was treated with caution from the start. Vallendor had no use for a man whose strength might topple the kingdom's very walls.
---
In the weeks that followed, Leon and Ryu met in secret, brought together by their shared imprisonment. They quickly realized the similarities in their abilities, both bound by their conscience, both powerful yet restrained. But the walls of the castle held no mercy for them, and they remained prisoners, mere tools for the king's hidden ambitions.
---
Then came the third summoning.
**Kana** appeared in the circle, a small and quiet figure, her eyes wide with fear. She looked around at the stone walls and the armored guards, her heart pounding in her chest. Unlike Leon and Ryu, who had felt their power immediately, Kana felt... nothing.
The king, watching from his throne, frowned. "And you, girl?" he asked, his voice cold. "What power do you possess?"
Kana's voice was barely a whisper. "I... I don't know."
One of the royal advisors stepped forward, casting a quick spell. His eyes flashed with contempt. "It's a copy skill, your majesty. She can mimic others' abilities. But it's weak—useless. She can only copy what she sees."
The king sneered. "Trash," he spat. "Take her away."
---
Kana was thrown into a dark, cold cell, far below the chambers where Leon and Ryu were kept. She sat alone in the darkness, her mind racing. A useless skill? She had been dragged from her world for this? Her fear slowly turned into frustration, and then to anger.
But as days passed, she realized something—her ability wasn't as useless as they thought. As she sat in silence, she began to sense things—echoes of power from the castle above her. When the guards passed, she could faintly feel their skills, their strength. And the more she focused, the clearer these echoes became.
In time, she would learn that her *Copy* skill had no limits. She could copy not only what she saw, but what she understood. And as she began to understand the true depth of her power, the wheels of fate were set in motion.
---
The king's plans were nearly complete. The three prisoners—the conscience-bound warrior, the mage, and the girl with the "trash" ability—were nothing more than pawns in his grand design. But none of them knew the deadly fate that awaited them. The guillotine loomed on the horizon, and with it, the beginning of a rebellion that would shake the kingdom to its core.
**To be continued...****The Chains of Power**
*Chapter 1: The Summoning of the Lost*
---
The Kingdom of Vallendor was known throughout the lands as the most prosperous and powerful of all. Behind its tall white walls, people lived in peace, seemingly protected by the magic of the ruling class. But beneath the surface, hidden in the shadows of the throne, lay a corruption so deep that even the kingdom's brightest minds could not see it.
Within the castle, in a chamber known only to a few, the air crackled with arcane energy. The royal summoners gathered around a vast, glowing circle inscribed with ancient symbols. Today was another summoning—another ritual to bring forth a being from another world. The king sat upon his gilded throne, watching, waiting. His eyes gleamed with hunger.
As the final incantation was spoken, the light within the circle flared, and a figure appeared.
**Leon** stood at the center of the room, dazed, his clothes unfamiliar, his surroundings disorienting. He felt something stir inside him, a presence deep in his core, something new but also strangely familiar. As his vision cleared, he saw the faces of the royal summoners, all watching him with expectant eyes.
"Another one," the king muttered from his throne, rising slowly. His voice carried a sinister edge, though it was masked with false politeness. "Tell me, stranger, what is your name?"
Leon blinked, still trying to process what had happened. He had been in a car accident—a flash of light—and now... now he was here, in this bizarre, medieval chamber. He swallowed, his throat dry. "Leon," he answered. "Where am I?"
"You stand in Vallendor," the king replied, stepping down from his throne, his robes trailing behind him. "You have been summoned here, chosen by fate itself. Tell me, what power do you wield?"
Leon hesitated, unsure of the answer. Then, as if in response to the king's question, he felt a surge within him—a torrent of energy that filled him to the brim. It was like nothing he had ever felt before. But with it came a strange sensation, a weight upon his soul. It wasn't just raw power, he could tell it had a disadvantage with it though.
"I... I think it's magic," Leon said, his voice uncertain. "But it's connected to my... I don't know. But I can feel it."
The king's eyes narrowed, intrigued. "Conscience magic," A palace mage said after receiving a glare from the king. "A rare and powerful gift indeed." Said the king. He motioned to his advisors, who hurried forward to take Leon into custody. "You will be taken to your chambers to... rest," the king said, though Leon detected the faintest hint of malice in his words.
---
Days passed, and Leon quickly realized that he was not free. Though he was treated well, with comfortable quarters and meals, he was watched at all times. Guards lingered at his door, and the castle's mages kept him under constant surveillance.
Leon spent his days alone, testing his power in secret. The conscience magic was unlike anything he had imagined. It gave him access to immense magical energy, but there was a catch: the more his conscience resisted, the more it affected his ability to use it. If his heart was burdened with doubt, guilt, or hesitation, his magic weakened. Conversely, when his conscience was clear, his power grew almost limitless.
But the king never allowed him to test his full potential. He was a prisoner, kept under lock and key, like a caged beast waiting to be unleashed.
---
Several weeks later, the summoning chamber was once again filled with the hum of magic. Another figure appeared in the circle—this time a tall, muscular man with a hardened expression. His clothes were torn, his hands rough from years of manual labor.
"Ryu," the man said before anyone could ask. His voice was deep and calm, but there was a fire in his eyes.
The king looked on, amused. "And what power do you possess, Ryu?"
Ryu closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the same strange sensation Leon had felt weeks earlier—a surge of power tied to his very being. Ryu said, "I don't know, but it makes me feel buffer than I used to be, I feel like I could beat you all up."
The king, turned off by his attitude, asks to the palace mage what it is. The palace mage answers that he has the ability of conscience stacking, an unsettling smile forming on the king's lips. "Interesting."
Just like Leon, Ryu was taken to a chamber—though his was closer to a cell. The king had seen the raw strength Ryu possessed, and unlike Leon, he was treated with caution from the start. Vallendor had no use for a man whose strength might topple the kingdom's very walls.
---
In the weeks that followed, Leon and Ryu met somehow in secret, brought together by their shared imprisonment. They quickly realized the similarities in their abilities, both bound by their conscience, both powerful yet restrained. But the walls of the castle held no mercy for them, and they remained prisoners, mere tools for the king's hidden ambitions.
---
Then came the third summoning.
Kana appeared in the circle, a small and quiet figure, her eyes wide with fear. She looked around at the stone walls and the armored guards, her heart pounding in her chest. Unlike Leon and Ryu, who had felt their power immediately, Kana felt... nothing.
The king, watching from his throne, frowned. "And you, girl?" he asked, his voice cold. "What power do you possess?"
Kana's voice was barely a whisper. "I... I don't know."
One of the royal advisors stepped forward, casting a quick spell. His eyes flashed with contempt. "It's a copy skill, your majesty. She can mimic others' abilities. But it's weak—useless. She can only copy what she sees."
The king sneered. "Trash," he spat. "Take her away."
---
Kana was thrown into a dark, cold cell, far below the chambers where Leon and Ryu were kept. She sat alone in the darkness, her mind racing. A useless skill? She had been dragged from her world for this? Her fear slowly turned into frustration, and then to anger.
But as days passed, she realized something—her ability wasn't as useless as they thought. As she sat in silence, she began to sense things—echoes of power from the castle above her. When the guards passed, she could faintly feel their skills, their strength. And the more she focused, the clearer these echoes became.
In time, she would learn that her *Copy* skill had no limits. She could copy not only what she saw, but what she understood. And as she began to understand the true depth of her power, the wheels of fate were set in motion.
---
The king's plans were nearly complete. The three prisoners—the conscience-bound warrior, the mage, and the girl with the "trash" ability—were nothing more than pawns in his grand design. But none of them knew the deadly fate that awaited them. The guillotine loomed on the horizon, and with it, the beginning of a rebellion that would shake the kingdom to its core.
To be continued...