Unity Grove was silent. All eyes were fixed on Mira and the lector.
Mira held the parchment firmly, ready to reveal him for what he was. She had watched his mysterious airs, his calm demeanor. The "savior" everyone trusts? She didn't buy it. Today, she would test him.
"This is the Morality Test," Mira announced.
The lector raised an eyebrow, his expression calm. "So it is."
Mira's voice didn't waver. "Your choice, Captain."
Her mind raced through the setup. She had crafted each option to expose him. If he chose the first option, he would seem heartless. People will criticize him. They'll blame him for leaving someone behind. If he chose the second option, he'd look reckless. They'll question his judgment, sacrificing all for one.
The lector scanned the parchment, reading both options aloud.
Option 1: We save ourselves. Leave the person behind.
Option 2: No one gets left behind. Even if the boat sinks, we bring everyone aboard.
He looked up. "Two options. And I'm to choose?"
Mira nodded. No escape now. She had planned every reaction, every word.
But the lector didn't look pressured. He closed his eyes briefly, his expression unchanging. When he opened them, he spoke without hesitation. "I choose… option three."
Mira's heart skipped. The crowd's reaction was instant. A wave of disbelief rippled through them.
"What?!" someone shouted. "There are only two options!"
The lector met her gaze, unshaken. "Option three," he repeated. "I save everyone, and the boat doesn't sink."
Shock held Mira in place. He found it—the hidden option. She had gone over this test, its possibilities, its traps, yet he had seen through them all.
Mira steadied herself. "Explain this third option," she said, keeping her tone even.
The lector's voice was steady. "When you're forced between two choices, you lose sight of other solutions. Option three is cooperation. We save the person in the water, and the boat stays afloat."
The crowd murmured. Mira's grip tightened on the parchment. He was supposed to fail. She had crafted this test to corner him, yet now, admiration grew in the eyes around her.
"Why did you make this choice?" she asked, her voice carrying urgency.
The lector's voice was calm. "You know why. I'm not here to divide." He turned and walked away, the crowd parting for him.
Mira watched him go, determined. This isn't over.
As the lector's figure faded into the shadows of Unity Grove, a tense silence settled among the crowd. Mira watched him go, her mind racing, uncertain if she should feel impressed or suspicious. That choice... it was too perfect, almost as if he'd known about the hidden option all along.
Still, she couldn't ignore the truth behind his presence—the strange shadow he carried. The lector had come from a fallen kingdom, and a fallen kingdom leaves scars.
Eldorath wasn't always a land of divided peoples and scattered lives. In the days of the Eldorath Kingdom, all humans were united under one throne, with dwarves and elves kept apart by firm, almost ruthless boundaries. Eldorath's heart was the capital city, and from there, the kings held a thousand-year grip on the continent. But, as history had proven time and again, a kingdom's heart is only as strong as its people's faith.
Eldorath's kings ruled with iron fists and greedy hands. Each king's goal was simple: keep the throne powerful, keep the people under control, and let the nobility enjoy life unbothered. Taxes were relentless, leaving peasants with barely enough to survive. These kings didn't hide their wealth—they flexed it, building wealthy palaces while commoners worked in near-starvation.
Eldorath was a kingdom that served itself first and everyone else last. Corruption ran so deep that the people's voices were drowned out before they could even be heard. This wasn't just ruling; it was domination.
The kings and nobles feared one thing above all: the common people's potential. Magic held massive power in this world, and if commoners grew strong, it could mean revolt. So, they built barriers. Laws prevented ordinary people from accessing higher levels of magic, making it impossible for them to level up. Only the noble class could freely wield and strengthen their magical abilities. The only school teaching advanced magic was in the capital, strictly for nobles. Commoners were turned away, forced to settle for scraps of magical knowledge, if any at all. This monopoly on magic was unbreakable, the nobles' failsafe against rebellion.
Though the path to advanced magic was closed, a new industry sprang up: magic workshops. Engineers created gadgets and devices infused with the magic they could access, innovations that powered everyday life. Becoming a workshop engineer was the one path out of poverty. Inventions were in high demand, and nobles paid handsomely for anything that brought convenience or status.
Yet, this path was double-edged. The competition was fierce, and only the best could reach wealth. Many engineers sold their creations on the black market, risking everything to bypass the nobles' restrictions. Magic workshops became a lifeline for some and a cage for others, as they fought to escape poverty or survive the harsh demands of their rulers.
The capital city was a fortress of privilege. To live there, one needed money, status, or academic achievement far beyond what was possible for most. It was an exclusive club for the powerful and the well-connected, untouched by the hardship that plagued the rest of the kingdom.
Life was narrowed by control. Other careers fell by the wayside, overshadowed by the focus on workshop engineering. For commoners, it felt like the kingdom had designed their lives down to the smallest detail, trapping them in a cycle of labor with no escape. Every hint of rebellion was squashed before it could spark.
For a thousand years, this system worked. Eldorath's rulers believed they had perfected control, an unbreakable kingdom. But Mira couldn't shake the feeling that something was different now. The lector was a remnant of that fallen empire, but he had broken free from the chains that once bound him. Perhaps he would be the key to finally breaking the world's shackles, too.
With the echoes of the lector's words still ringing in her ears, Mira knew she had to confront the truth. The cycle of oppression would not end without sacrifice, and she felt the weight of her choices pressing down on her. Would she challenge the lector, or would she risk losing her chance to uncover the deeper secrets of Eldorath and its past?
The answer lay in the shadows, waiting for her to find it.