(Seira's Pov)
I woke up in a place I didn't know, shivering from the cold that seeped into my bones. The walls around me felt like they were closing in, pressing tighter with every breath, as if trying to crush me completely. I was alone in this tiny, empty room, with nothing but my own thoughts for company. But those thoughts weren't kind. They clawed at me, trying to drag me down into a dark place where even the faintest flicker of light could never reach my heart again.
I lay on a dirty, stained mattress on the floor. The fabric was scratchy, and the smell of rot filled the air. My eyes stayed fixed on the ceiling, gray and cracked, with a faint pattern of water stains spreading like a broken web. I didn't dare let my mind drift, as if thinking about anything else might make me do something I couldn't take back.
I wanted to feel something—anything. Just one tear. Just one. But no matter how much I wished for it, nothing came. My chest felt heavy and hollow, like my heart had turned into a dark, empty cavern. I thought about the bad men, the ones who put me here, and wished they could feel just a tiny fraction of what they'd done to me.
"To be divine is not to command; it is to endure. To create is to suffer, and to suffer is to truly live."
A woman voice spoke to me, the words rang in my head, clear and sharp, like church bells in the distance. They sounded soft yet strong, echoing in my ears as if someone had whispered them directly to me. For a moment, the emptiness inside me faltered. But then the darkness surged back, swallowing me whole again.
"Who… who are you?" I whispered, the words barely leaving my dry lips. My voice cracked, too small to fill the silence of the room. No answer came. The quiet returned, heavier than before, and my bad thoughts crept back in, wrapping themselves around me like a suffocating blanket. I didn't want to be here anymore, but I clung to the words, trying to make sense of them. "Divine?" I thought. Why did everyone keep saying that word? Even the bandits had called me something like that.
Time passed, though I wasn't sure how much. I sat up on the mattress, my arms wrapped around my knees. The cold, heavy chains around my neck, wrists, and ankles dug into my skin. Every movement felt like a struggle to breathe.
The sound of footsteps echoed down the hall, growing louder and sharper with every step. Then came the clanking of metal, the unmistakable scrape of a key in a lock. The door creaked open, and a towering man stepped in. His voice was harsh, snapping like a whip. "Chattel, on your feet. Come with me."
He grabbed my arm roughly, his grip like iron, and yanked me out of the room. I stumbled after him, his heavy footsteps echoing against the cold stone walls. The corridor was dimly lit by torches mounted on the walls, their flames casting flickering shadows that danced like restless spirits.
He dragged me into a large room filled with people. They were like me—dressed in thin, ragged clothes and weighed down by chains. Their faces were pale and gaunt, their eyes hollow, yet there was something in their gaze when they looked at me. It wasn't just pity. It was like they understood, as if we all shared the same silent pain.
I paused for a moment, trying to take it all in. The room smelled of sweat and despair, and the air was thick with the weight of our suffering. But my pause was a mistake. The man, Reymar, struck me across the face with the back of his hand. Pain exploded in my cheek, and I fell to the ground, the cold stone scraping my palms. "Did I say stop?!" he barked. "You stop when I tell you to stop! Now move!"
My head throbbed, and the world spun for a moment. But I didn't cry. I didn't say anything. I just picked myself up and kept walking. The others in chains watched me, their expressions growing heavier, like they knew that pain all too well.
Reymar shoved me toward the group, and I fell again, my knees hitting the hard floor. A girl with long brown hair and kind blue eyes crouched beside me. "Hey," she whispered, her voice soft, almost timid. "My name's Ara. What's yours?"
She helped me to my feet, her touch gentle. She looked older than me, maybe eight or nine years old. I tried to answer, but my throat was dry, and the words wouldn't come. "Se-i…" I stammered, my voice barely audible.
"Sei?" she repeated, tilting her head. "Is that your name? Okay, Sei. Do you want to be friends? We have to stick together if we're going to survive here. We're nothing more than objects to them."
I nodded weakly. For the first time, something warm flickered in the cold void inside me. But it was fleeting, snuffed out by the booming voice of the owner.
"Listen up, vermin! Four of you will go to the mines with me. The rest will tend to the household chores. A servant will give you instructions." He walked among us, a strange device in his hand, choosing the strongest among us based on the device's evaluation, with a clinical, heartless gaze.
Ara and I were left behind with another boy about her age. He had dark, messy hair and a wary expression. Reymar shoved the chosen slaves forward, chaining them together like animals, and dragged them out.
A servant stayed behind with the rest of us. He had a calm, distant look, so different from Reymar and the others. "My name is Nirin," he said in a quiet voice. "Follow me."
As we followed him through the house, I noticed his eyes. They weren't cruel. They weren't angry. They almost looked… sad. Like he wanted to help us but couldn't.
The house was enormous, almost like a sprawling maze that seemed to go on forever. The long, winding corridors twisted and turned in all directions, and it would be easy to get completely lost. The walls were tall and covered in dark wood paneling, with grand paintings hanging in every corner. The floors creaked beneath our feet as we walked, the sound echoing in the quiet air. The atmosphere felt heavy, like a blanket wrapped tightly around us.
We were guided through the mansion by the servant, Nirin, who gave us directions on where to clean, but my mind wasn't really on what he was saying. I kept my eyes fixed on the ground as I walked, feeling numb inside. Everything around me seemed so empty, so pointless. Why was I here, scrubbing and dusting for a man I didn't even know? Why did he spend such a ridiculous amount of coins to buy me, just to make me do chores? It didn't make sense.
Ara was the only one talking, her voice full of energy and excitement, like she had just met a new friend. "You know, I have a little sister who's probably around your age," she said brightly, her eyes sparkling. "Or, I had a little sister, I guess. I don't know where she is now. She might be dead for all I know."
She looked at me with a curious smile, as if waiting for a response. "How about you? Do you have any siblings?" Ara asked, her smile wide and warm, completely unaware of the pain building inside me.
In that moment, my heart stopped. My eyes widened with a mix of fear and horror. Suddenly, I wasn't in the mansion anymore. I was back in my village, lying under my dying mother. The world around me blurred as the memories came crashing down, too vivid to ignore. The screams, the blood, the fire… the crushing weight of everything that had happened to me.
All Ara and the others saw was me gasping for air, my chest heaving as I struggled to breathe. I fell to my knees, overwhelmed by the panic that consumed me. My hands shook as I tried to calm myself, but the horror wouldn't stop.
Sei? What's happening?!" Ara's voice was full of worry as she knelt beside me. "I'm sorry! That was really insensitive of me. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I didn't mean to upset you."
I could hear the urgency in her voice, but all I could do was breathe in quick, shallow gasps. I felt like I was suffocating, the weight of everything pressing in from all sides.
The servant, Nirin, who had been paying attention to the instructions he was giving us about the chores, rushed over. He scooped me up carefully, holding me tightly to his chest as he tried to soothe me. His movements were swift but gentle, and he carried me on his back as we continued the tour of the mansion.
I clung to him, trying to steady my breathing as I rested my head against his shoulder. The air smelled faintly of wood polish and dust, mixing with the faint scent of Nirin's cologne. Slowly, very slowly, my breath began to return to normal.
"I-I'm okay now," I whispered to Nirin, my voice shaky. "Y-you can put me down now."
He didn't say anything but nodded silently, lowering me to my feet after a while. I stood there, my hands still trembling, but I managed to keep myself together.
Time passed, and we finished the tour of the mansion. Nirin had explained everything we needed to do. First, we had to clean the stairs and the railings that led to the second floor at the entrance. After that, we would move on to the corridors and the window panes, making sure to clean the corners, too. Next, we had to tackle the kitchen, where the cooks prepared meals for the residents of the house. Then, we had to clean all twelve bedrooms—every single one of them. Finally, the last task was to clean the library, where we were now.
Nirin had left us alone after giving us the instructions. He checked on us from time to time, but for the most part, we were on our own.
The boy who was with us, Vuras, didn't talk much. He reminded me of myself, quiet and distant. Ara was the only one who spoke all the time, filling the silence with her chatter. "His name is Vuras," she said, pointing to the boy who was cleaning a shelf across the room. "He doesn't speak to strangers much either. He only talks to me."
We worked quietly for a while, cleaning the bookshelves in the library. The room was filled with rows and rows of books, some old and dusty, others newer and well-kept. The smell of paper and leather filled the air, and the only sounds were the soft swish of dusters and the occasional scrape of a chair leg against the floor.
As I moved along the shelves, my eyes landed on a book that caught my attention. It was a thick, leather-bound volume with golden lettering on the cover that read Secrets of Mana Control. I picked it up out of curiosity, my fingers tracing the edges of the pages as I opened it. I landed on a specific page saying:
Mana Essence: The Fundamentals.
Every realm within the Cosmic Plane draws its vitality from mana essence, an omnipresent energy flowing within all living creatures. Harnessed properly, it enables individuals to channel the elemental forces of nature, weaving spells of tremendous power. The way to unlock one's Mana Essence one must first demonstrate their resolve, their reason for wanting power, their reason for fighting. Only then can one unlock the vastness of one's potential, and utilize their Mana Essence and Life Energy to its fullest.
The strength of this essence varies among individuals, categorized into distinct mana ranks that symbolize innate potential:
Three levels of Green Essence: The weakest and gentlest, likened to the tranquility of grass and the calm of blooming flowers.
Three levels of Yellow Essence: The average essences, the ones most beings gain upon learning to utilize the flow of their essence. As well as the ones most people struggle to get past.
Three level of Red Essence: The strongest most mortals can achieve, embodying the fierce hue of flames and the indomitable spirit of battle.
There are also those individuals rejected by the gods who are incapable of awakening their innate potential and as a result their Mana Essence is locked, for never to be used. However, those rejected individuals might still be able to attain power by being chosen by spirits who can see their locked potential and choose to transfer into their soul, occupying their body and lending them power. These chosen ones are often referred to as Hollowborn for their hollow soul that cannot unlock their Mana Essence.
I don't really get all these big words, but they still kinda pull me in, like they're whispering secrets I can't quite hear.
"Sei!" Ara's voice cut through the quiet, sharp and scolding, like a lioness growling at her cub. "You need to clean! He'll punish you if he catches you slacking off!"
Her warning came just in time. The moment her words hit the air, Nirin appeared in the doorway, his tall frame casting a shadow over the library. I froze, the book still in my hands, and turned to meet his gaze. He didn't yell or scold, just sighed softly and shook his head, his expression unreadable. Walking up to me, he reached out and gently took the book, placing it back on the shelf with a careful precision that made me feel even guiltier.
"Listen here, little one," he said as he crouched down, his voice calm but serious. His dark eyes met mine, steady and heavy with meaning. "You mustn't let yourself get distracted from your tasks. The lord won't like it. You must always follow the master's orders. Always."
I didn't trust my voice to say anything, so I just nodded, slow and small, my gaze dropping to the floor.
We went back to cleaning after that. The library was enormous, its high shelves stretching toward the ceiling like the walls of some ancient castle. Dust motes floated in the air, catching the faint streams of light that filtered through the tall windows. The scent of old paper and leather filled the room, and each of my small footsteps seemed to echo forever.
As we worked, Ara kept up a stream of chatter with Nirin. I mostly just listened, letting their words wash over me. They were both so different from anyone I'd known before—kind, even though life had been cruel to them. I envied that kindness, like it was some treasure I could never have. My heart felt like it had shattered into tiny pieces a long time ago, and now there was nothing left to feel with. How could I show kindness when I barely felt real?
Nirin's story was hard to ignore, though. He used to be a noble from a fancy family, but Reymar ruined everything—took all their money, threatened to kill Nirin's sister unless he became Reymar's servant. That was nine whole years ago. Nine years of being loyal to a man who destroyed his life, all because of a promise to keep his sister safe.
I wanted to feel bad for him, but instead, I felt... nothing. Like his story was just another tale in one of these dusty old books. It wasn't that I didn't care—I just couldn't. What happened to me was worse, so why should I feel anything for him?
Vuras didn't feel the same. He started crying, his quiet sobs breaking through the stillness of the library. Was it Nirin's story that made him cry, or was he thinking about his own past? I watched Ara move to his side, her movements soft and sure, her hand stroking his back.
"It's okay. I'm here with you. You're not completely alone, Vuras," she said, her voice so gentle it almost hurt to hear.
Something sharp and heavy twisted in my chest. Hearing those words said to someone else felt like a thorn digging into me. I wanted someone to say them to me. I wanted Mommy and Papa to be here. My eyes fell to the floor, staring blankly at the tiles as if they held the answers to the ache inside me.
But the moment passed, like everything does. We kept cleaning and finished not long after.
"Come on, guys," Nirin said firmly, his voice pulling us back to reality. "The lord will return soon. We need to hurry back to the main hall."
We followed him through the long corridors, the walls lined with tall, cold windows. Outside, the garden stretched wide and lush, dotted with bright patches of flowers. Ara kept talking to me as we walked, her words bouncing around like little riddles. I could tell she was trying to tell me something, but I couldn't quite figure out what.
"Sei, look there," she said suddenly, pointing toward the garden.
I followed her finger to a strange object in the middle of a flower field. It looked like some kind of giant speaker, the kind you'd use to make really loud noises. It sat there like it didn't belong, and I couldn't stop staring at it until we reached the main hall.
Reymar was already there, standing among the other children. His face twisted into fury as he saw us arrive late. Without warning, he stormed toward us and punched Ara in the face. She fell hard, landing on the cold stone floor. Blood trickled from her lip as she struggled back to her feet.
"I'm sorry, master," she said, her voice steady even though her body shook.
I couldn't move. I couldn't even breathe. I just stood there, useless and frozen, as Reymar turned toward Vuras. He raised his hand to strike again, but something inside me snapped.
It was like the world shifted. Vuras looked so much like Kaelen—my brother. How had I not seen it before? His dark, messy hair, his almost-glowing red eyes. The resemblance was uncanny, and it hit me like a thunderclap.
And then I wasn't myself anymore. My vision blurred, and I left my body like I was watching everything from far away, floating at the top of the room. My body felt weightless. I saw myself, my hair glowing golden like a sunbeam. My body lifted off the ground, floating like gravity had forgotten me.
"What's happening?" I thought, my mind spiraling. "Is this really me?"
The glow around me grew brighter, stronger, but then it started to fade, pulsing like the seconds on a ticking clock. Something terrible was coming. I could feel it, like everything around us would dissipate in an instant.
Before anything could happen, Reymar shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice echoing through the room. "It's happening! Guards! Grab her quickly!" The words barely left his mouth when, in an instant, several guards came rushing in. They tackled me—my glowing, radiant body—straight to the cold, hard ground. The light from my skin flickered and dimmed as they forced me down.
I was floating above them, watching the whole scene unfold like I was seeing it from the outside. It was like I wasn't even there. I didn't understand what was happening, but I could feel the panic growing in my chest. Then, without warning, I snapped back into my body, and everything around me went completely dark.
Time seemed to slip away, like I was floating in that blackness forever. But eventually, I woke up. I found myself in the same small, empty room I had been in earlier. My body ached, and I felt weak, like something had drained all my strength. Something was different, though. My eyes drifted down to the chain around my neck. It had changed. Now, instead of the plain metal I remembered, it was a thick black collar with purple crystals glowing softly. The light from the crystals seemed almost alive, like they were watching me. I could feel their energy pulling at me, making my body feel heavier, as if the collar was slowly taking away whatever strength I had left.
I tried to think about what had happened earlier, but the memory was blurry, like a dream I couldn't quite catch. And then, suddenly, I heard the voice again—the same voice I had heard before. It was calm, soothing, but it sent a chill down my spine, like it belonged to something ancient and wise.
"A spark sleeps within you, child, waiting to ignite a flame that will burn away the chains of this world."
The words swirled in my mind, but they made no sense. What spark? What chains? What was inside of me? I felt more confused than ever, and the weight of fear started to settle in my chest. I wanted to go home. But as soon as the thought crossed my mind, I realized I didn't even know what "home" meant anymore. Was it just a word? Was it a place that was already lost to me?
The sound of footsteps pulled me from my thoughts. They were coming closer, the soft thud of boots on the floor getting louder. I looked up just as Reymar burst through the door, his face twisted in anger. He grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking me up sharply, and slapped me hard across the face. The force of it made my head snap to the side. "How dare you use your powers without me telling you to?!" he snarled, spitting in my face.
My head was spinning from the shock of it all, and I could hardly understand what was happening. My cheek throbbed where he had hit me, and my whole body ached. I stared up at him, unable to say a word. "Don't look at me with your dirty eyes!" he barked, his voice full of hatred. Then he slapped me again—harder this time—and sent me crashing to the floor. I cried out as I landed on the cold stone, my knees scraping painfully.
He didn't even wait for me to get up before grabbing me by my hair again, dragging me across the floor like I weighed nothing at all. I stumbled behind him, barely able to keep my balance as he pulled me into the main hall. My vision blurred, and I could see Ara standing next to Vuras. They both looked worse for wear, beaten and bruised, like they had been through something terrible.
Ara wouldn't look at me. She kept her gaze fixed on the floor, desperately avoiding my eyes. I could see the disgust in her face, the pity, but mostly the fear. Vuras looked at me with a sad smile, but there was something in his eyes—a sadness I couldn't quite place. It felt like he knew something I didn't.
Reymar stepped forward, holding me up by my hair so everyone could see me. "Everyone. This girl is special," he announced, his voice loud and commanding. "She's new here, so show her around your chambers. Ara, she will sleep with your group tonight. The reason she hasn't slept there before now is because we had to arrange a few things for her." His grip on my hair tightened as he spoke. "As you can see, her collar is different from yours. It's to keep us all safe." His words were meant to reassure everyone, but I could hear the coldness in his voice, the threat behind them. He wanted them to know that I was different—something to be feared, something to keep their distance from.
That was the moment I knew things wouldn't be the same. Over time, the others would start to avoid me. They'd watch me from a distance, wary of what I could do, of what I might become. But Ara and Vuras, they were the only ones who ever stayed close. They were the only ones who didn't turn away.
And even though I would find myself drowning in loneliness, surrounded by people who couldn't—or wouldn't—understand me, it was Ara and Vuras who would help me through it. But that didn't change the fact that the emptiness inside me felt like it was crushing me, little by little. The loneliness would become my constant companion.