Warmth,

  The

  sun rays beamed down on her causing her to feel a sensation she

  almost forgotten. It felt like a lie.

  She

  was dishevelled. Her dark hair was a matted nest, her simple dress

  tattered and stained with the filth of the dungeon. She smelled of

  straw, damp stone, and despair. All because she had fought back. All

  because of the evil she had once called her uncle.

  The

  Church hadn’t cared that she was a child, or even that she was a

  Synchrite. She had assaulted an Arcon in training, and punishment was

  the only language they understood. They had banked on the

  imprisonment breaking her. And in the darkness, sobbing for her

  executed father and the mother who took her own life, it nearly had.

  Her

  salvation came from the most unlikely source, Lucius, the Arc’s

  Authority himself.

  Hearing

  of the girl from Geneeva who had caused such an uproar, he found it

  amusing. His offer to the Church was simple, release her to train for

  the Chimera Cross Trials. To sweeten he deal, he offered to

  participate himself. After refusing multiple times before, his sudden

  change of heart was an offer they couldn’t refuse.

  They

  had no choice but to let her out of her cage.

  She

  remembered how she was woken.

  “How

  cruel…”

  Ester

  blinked. A pair of polished boots stood outside her cell. She looked

  up to see a man in a white cloak and black armour, his face pale and

  hallow, his hair slicked back. He smiled, but it was hollow.

  “Huh…?”

  she mumbled, still half asleep.

  “Get

  up child. You are being granted your freedom.”

  The

  words should have been a thunderclap of joy. Instead, they landed

  with a dull thud. She had been certain her fate was to rot, to die as

  the monster she believed herself to be.

  She

  stood slowly. The man loomed over her. She said nothing, her trust in

  promises from Officials had long been exhausted.

  He

  exhaled, rubbing his brow as if she were a pain in the ass.

  “Your

  freedom is conditional. You will enrol in the Halls of Synchrites and

  train for the Chimera Cross Trials.”

  The

  Cross Trials… She remembered

  seeing a segment as a little girl. It

  was weird, her freedom now supposed to be the prize.

  Her

  hesitation was a second too long.

  “Why

  hesitate?” he snapped, waving a frantic hand at the environment. “

  Look around you! Do you like this shithole.?”

  “That’s

  not it..”

  “Then

  ?”

  “..

  I’ll be proving them right,” she lowered her voice, the

  confession torn from her. “That I’m just a monster.”

  The

  Man just snorted. “So? You better hope your a monster if you want

  to rank in the Trials . Besides, once you have enough, what can their

  words do to you?”

  The

  concept was so alien it was almost incomprehensible.

  “I’ll

  give you another fact,” he said, leaning in slightly. “The reason

  I’m here...your patron...is Lucius the Praised.”

  Ester

  couldn’t believe it. LuciusLucius

  “Why..why

  does he..?” she stammered.

  He

  didn’t answer. Instead, he turned to a Geneevan official and

  nodded. The man fumbled with a heavy ring of hundreds of keys.

  “Son

  of a-” Jacen cried, his impatience boiling over.

  “Are

  you a Synchrite?” Ester asked.

  “Yes,

  girl,” he said, exasperated. “My name is Jacen.”

  The

  name rang a bell. Her eyes dropped to the twin swords on his hips.

  He seemed to catch her

  recognition, letting out a dismissive scoff.

  “The

  paperwork is done. You’ll be there for the introductions. These two

  will escort you,” he stated, then paused at the door. “If Lucius

  sees something in you...I will hold you to that standard. May

  blessings follow you, Ester.”

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  He

  disappeared into the light, leaving her with the jangling keys and

  the cursing official.

  “Alright,”

  the man finally grunted, unlocking the door. “Get out of there, you

  little monster.”

  If

  he sought to provoke her, she was provoked. But she let it slide,

  storing the insult in a cold, new part of her heart. She simply

  stepped out, snatching the brown cloak he held out for her.

  The

  carriage ride was quiet, golden-hued dream that lasted the whole

  afternoon. But inside, Ester’s mind was a storm. She didn’t know

  what to feel, gratitude or suspicion were both irrelevant. The only

  fact that mattered was her own weakness. But that was their mistake,

  letting her out of that cell. They would regret it.

  They

  arrived in the evening. The institution loomed before her, a grand

  training ground with fields that bled into the distant shadows.

  Torches blazed, leading up a flight of steps to massive doors that

  swallowed the light. Her escorts guided her forward. When she asked

  if she could clean up first, they just laughed. “You’re already

  late,” one said. She didn’t believe that was true reason.

  The

  world outside vanished as they stepped into a hallway of profound,

  swallowing dimness. Why light the outside so brightly, only to

  shroud the inside in shadow? She kept the question to herself, a

  seed of unease.

  Then,

  the doors at the end swung open. A wave of sound and light hit her.

  About eighty kids sat in the auditorium, their attention fixed on

  three adults at the front. The groan of the hinges turned every head.

  Eyes, sharp and judgmental, quickly turned around, scanning her

  ragged appearance. Whispers slithered through the room like snakes.

  For the first time, she was acutely aware of the dirt on her skin and

  the taters of her dress. Her heart plummeted. She was marked before

  she’d even spoken a word.

  The

  man at the front cleared his throat, pulling the attention back to

  him. He was dark-skinned with close-cropped white hair. A single scar

  carved a path from his forehead, down past his left eye, taking it

  and a piece of his ear as well. His hands rested on the pommel of a

  great-sword that gleamed silver and gold.

  “Where’s

  the other one?” grunted the man built like a fortress beside him.

  “I

  suppose he’s running late as well,” the woman on his other side

  replied, her voice gentle.

  “Ester,

  I presume?” the scarred man said, his voice carrying an easy

  authority. “Please, sit.” He offered a genuine-looking smile. She

  numbly found an empty space, careful to make herself small.

  “I’ll

  start this again, since we had one person late,” he said, as groans

  filled the air. “...I’ll skip to the important parts. My name is

  Markos Alauris. A Geneevan son. One of the few Five-star Synchrites

  on the continent, currently ranked….top ten. I will be your

  instructor.” He paused, a subtle smile playing on his lips. “Some

  of the Synchrites you’ll face...you may have already heard of them.

  Like Lucius the Praised.”

  The

  name was a lightning strike. A shockwave of gasps and murmurs

  electrified the auditorium. The name was a legend, a

  story she’d listened to with wide-eyes from a boy she’d once

  knew.

  Markos

  raised a hand, regaining control. “I know how that sounds. But

  wouldn’t you like the chance to prove yourself against a legend? To

  prove to the world you can become one In your own right? Who knows,”

  he said, his gaze sweeping across the room, “ maybe the one who can

  best him is sitting here right now.” His words were a spark,

  igniting a blaze of excitement.

  “Tomorrow, we begin training

  at first light. Get a good night’s rest, because we start by

  whipping you all into shape. That is all.”

  As

  the crowd filed out, making sure to stare at Ester, Markos called

  Ester back. His two companions watched her approach. The bearded

  fortress of a man, and the woman in the green with a serene, motherly

  smile. A lion with a body of shimmering pale blue glass slept at her

  feet, while a dark-feathered bird with glowing green eyes watched

  Ester from its perch on her shoulder. The woman’s smile was warm,

  but everything about her screamed

  “I..heard what happened in the capital,” Markos said, his voice

  low. “For a child to endure that… I am sorry.”

  Ester

  searched his face and found no deceit ,only a weary pity. She managed

  a quick nod, her eyes dropping to the floor, afraid that meeting his

  eyes...eye? Would shatter her completely.

  The

  woman, Lillia, stepped forward and pulled her into a gentle hug.

  Ester stood stiffly for a moment before yielding, the unexpected

  kindness a painful ache in her chest.

  “I

  pray you succeed in these Trials. Ester,” Lillia whispered. “Doing

  well can open so many doors for you.”

  She

  didn’t need to say it. Ester already knew. In this world, status

  was power. And power was the only tool that could exact her revenge.

  They told her where to bathe and that new clothes were in her dorm.

  As she left, Ester noticed the tension she had missed before, the

  clenching of the fortress-man’s fist, the tightening of Markos’s

  jaw. Something big was in play.

  That

  night, sleep was impossible. She wrestled with the thin sheets, her

  mind lopping on a nightmare reel, the crack of bone, the slick warmth

  of blood on her hands, her mother’s voice screaming A

  groan escaped her as she turned, making the bed creak.

  “Um...is

  everything okay down there?”

  A

  head popped down from the bunk above hers. Her dorm mate, Sapphire,

  or Saphy, as she insisted, was a small girl with a face full of

  concern. When Ester had first encountered the dorm, Saphy had hugged

  her without a second thought, utterly oblivious to Ester’s grime or

  stiff resistance.

  “Yes...I’m

  fine,” Ester whispered, her voice raw.

  Saphy,

  however, wasn’t buying it. She dropped down and jumped into Ester’s

  bed, a bundle of innocent energy. “What are you doing?” Ester

  asked, startled.

  “Comforting

  you, duh,” Saphy said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the

  world. She pulled the blanket over her head, her voice becoming

  muffled. “I’m not the brightest, so I have no clue what could be

  troubling you. And you don’t have to tell me. But I do know things

  are a bit easier if someone is with you.”

  The

  simple words disarmed Ester completely. She didn’t have friends.

  The gesture was foreign, uncomfortable, but not unwelcome.

  “...Thank

  you,” Ester murmured, the words feeling strange on her tongue.

  Saphy

  then launched into a rambling story about her younger sisters and

  their nightmares. Ester listened, soothed by the girl’s presence,

  which seemed to exude an unnatural calm. As if, for now, everything

  might actually be okay. She slowly drifted into a peaceful sleep.

  Morning would come, and the preparations for the Trials would begin.

  But for tonight, she was content.