A scream ripped through the quiet morning of Dravelyn. Smoke curled from one of the central market stalls, and wood and metal fragments tumbled to the ground. People scattered in all directions, clutching their tools and crates—but never coins.
Soren Malric's boots pounded the cobblestones as he ran toward the chaos. At 22, he bore a responsibility far beyond his years—he was the anchor for his sisters, Elara and Seris. His sharp eyes scanned the panicked crowd. Sparks from the fire leapt onto nearby stacks of fabric and produce, turning the morning bustle into a dangerous maze. He ducked under a low-hanging sign and twisted around a corner, narrowly avoiding a falling beam. The bells of the market square rang frantically, warning everyone that control had slipped completely.
Amid the chaos, Soren noticed the difference: those who moved with precision, guiding and protecting others, commanded attention. Those without skills were pushed aside, swallowed by panic. This was the law of Dravelyn in practice—silent, harsh, unavoidable.
By the time he reached the quieter lanes near his home, the noise of the market was fading into the distance. The small, worn houses stood orderly, a stark contrast to the disaster he'd just navigated. Smoke still lingered faintly in the breeze, a reminder that even the familiar could turn dangerous in a heartbeat. Soren pushed open the creaking wooden door of his home and entered. Inside, two figures stirred, eyes alert to his arrival.
One of the sisters, eyes wide with concern, asked, "What happened in the town?"
Soren's jaw tightened. "The Hollow Exchange has struck again. They've come for another victim."
Seris stepped closer, her voice trembling slightly. "Who… who is their victim this time?"
Soren took a deep breath, his eyes darkening. "Someone from the eastern district. We don't know their name yet, but the Exchange doesn't strike randomly.you have to "Stay inside. For the next three days, no one leaves this house until every member of the Exchange has moved on. Elara, make sure the windows are secure. Seris, keep the kitchen and corridors clear.
The house fell silent after Soren's orders. Elara and Seris obeyed, listening closely to him.
Suddenly, Through the window, Elara noticed a shadow moving swiftly past the street outside. She leaned closer, her voice tense. "Soren… one of the Hollow has passed by here."
Soren moved quickly to the window and drew the curtain tight, blocking any view from outside. He pressed his forehead against the cool fabric for a moment, listening. The faint sounds of the street—the distant clatter of footsteps, the soft whisper of someone passing—kept his senses alert. He stepped back and told Elara to sit beside him on the couch.
Once she sat down, he asked quietly, "Which field did you feel when they passed by?"
Elara shook her head. "I… I don't know."
Alone in his thoughts, Soren muttered under his breath, "My field… my ability…"
Then he called to his other sister, Seris. "In your field… remind me, what is your ability?"
Seris answered softly, "My ability… is to detect poisons."
He turned back to Elara, "Your field is Trade… your ability is to detect lies."
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "But as for me… I haven't discovered my true talent yet, even though I know I belong to the Crafts field."
He sank deeper into his thoughts. "I have to discover my ability as soon as possible… I hope it's something that allows me to fight, so I can protect my only family—my dear sisters." Suddenly, Seris pulled him into a gentle hug. "I know you're worried about us, But there's no need to fear—we are strong".
then glanced at Elara "right?"
Elara nodded firmly, meeting Seris's gaze. "Yes… we'll face them together."
Soren felt a warmth spread through him, a mixture of relief and determination. He had to discover his ability soon, for their sake. His mind began turning over possibilities within the Crafts field, thinking of ways he could test even a small spark of his power.
Four days had passed. The streets were quiet again, and the danger from the Hollow Exchange seemed to have moved on—for now. Soren decided it was time. He needed to discover his ability.
He gathered tools from around the house, preparing to test each possibility within the Crafts field: crafting, building, repair, and defense. One by one, he would attempt them, focusing all his attention, hoping to awaken even a spark of his true power.
Finally, discovered his first ability: he could strengthen wooden objects. Anything made of wood could become tougher and harder.
He held a simple wooden stick in his hands, focusing all his attention. Slowly, he felt a surge of energy flow into it. The stick became solid, unyielding, and surprisingly heavy.
Suddenly, a scream pierced the quiet of the house. "That's Elara!" Soren shouted to himself.
He rushed toward the sound, heart pounding. When he arrived, he found Elara on the ground, clutching her head, eyes wide with pain, while Seris knelt beside her, looking both shocked and worried. He rushed to her side, kneeling down quickly."Elara! Can you hear me?"
Elara clutched her head tighter, her voice weak."It… it hurts so much…". a strange symbol appeared on her forehead, glowing faintly for a moment before vanishing.
Elara: "Ah…!"
Her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed, fainting into Soren's arms.
Soren: "Elara! Hold on!" and lifted her carefully, supporting her head and back as he carried her toward her bedroom. And said: "We'll get you to bed safely, just stay with me."
About an hour later, Soren was still sitting beside her, not moving, waiting for her to wake up.
slowly opened her eyes.
Soren: "Are you alright?"
Elara: "I… I still feel some pain in my head."
Soren: "Do you want me to take you to a doctor, or…?"
shook her head weakly.
Elara: "No… I think I'll be okay… just need some rest."
Soren nodded, still concerned, and gently adjusted the blanket around her.
Soren: "Alright… but call me if the pain gets worse."
After she slept.
He walked quickly to his father's library, the house silent around him. He ran his fingers over the shelves until he found an old, dusty book on the desk: The Codex of Ancient Symbols. "Maybe this will tell me what that symbol means…"
He flipped the pages carefully, the smell of old parchment filling the air. Soon, he came across a symbol that looked exactly like the one that had appeared on Elara's forehead.
His eyes widened as he read the passage. "No… this can't be…"
The text described the symbol clearly: it marked the next victim of the Hollow Exchange. A warning, written in an old, faded hand, read: "Whoever bears this mark walks toward inevitable doom unless protected by the true strength of their field. His chest tightened, and his hands shook as he clutched the book to his side.
Soren: "Elara… no… I can't let anything happen to you."
His mind was a storm of fear, imagining the danger that now hung over her, and his heart pounded so hard he thought she might hear it from where she lay.
he strarted searching the shelves for another book that might explain how to remove the symbol.
Suddenly, a shadow appeared behind him, its voice cold and low.
"Hello, Soren Malric… it's already too late."
Soren spun around, heart racing, his breath coming in short gasps.
"W-who… who are you? What do you mean, too late?"
The shadow remained silent, its presence suffocating, filling the small library with a cold, ominous weight.
The shadow spoke again, its voice chilling.
"Listen…"
A sudden scream pierced the air—Seris.
Soren: "Seris!"
He dashed toward the sound, only to see another shadow holding Elara, while Seris lay on the ground, bleeding heavily from her stomach.
His eyes widened in horror as the first shadow approached him. Furious, he swung his fist at it—but his hand passed through the dark figure as if it were nothing.
The shadow's voice echoed around him, calm yet menacing.
"You can't touch me, Soren… I am not really here. This… this is only an illusion."
Soren's voice trembled, but he forced himself to speak. "Who… who are you?"
The shadow's tone grew deep and terrifying.
"We are the Hollow Exchange. You've surely heard of us.
We come to this city every four days."
Soren's voice cracked with anger and fear.
"Damn you! What do you want from my sister?"
"She belongs to us.
We are here to reclaim what is ours… nothing more."
Soren clenched his fists, his voice shaking with rage.
"And what will you do to her after you take her?"
The shadow answered without hesitation. "She will become one of our slaves from this day on.
We will do with her whatever we want."
Soren screamed, his voice breaking with fury.
"Damn you! I won't let you take my sister—even over my dead body!"
The shadow replied without a hint of concern.
"And can you really do anything about it?""Be grateful we didn't take you with her… and that we haven't killed her yet."
It began to fade, its form dissolving into darkness. "We are still busy taking others for now.
I don't have the time to talk to you any longer."
With those words, it vanished completely.
Soren fell to his knees, rage exploding inside him. He slammed his fist into the ground. "Damn it… damn it!"
He turned quickly toward his sister lying on the floor and grabbed her shoulders.
"Seris! Stay with me—please! Don't you dare die!"
Her lips trembled slightly as she let out a weak breath.
"Soren…"
The moment she responded, Soren rushed to the cabinet, his hands shaking as he grabbed medicines and bandages. He knelt beside her again, working as fast as he could, pressing the bandages against her wound. She had lost too much blood there was no time to waste.
After a tense few moments, she slowly regained consciousness.
Soren:"Are you… feeling any better?"
He studied her carefully, worry etched on his face.
"How… how did they do this to you?"
Her voice was weak, but clear. "When I tried to stop that shadow from taking our sister… it stabbed me with some strange weapon it had."
A sudden knock on the door made Soren jump. He rushed to open it, heart still pounding from the recent chaos.
Standing there was a tall man in a dark uniform, his expression serious.
"Soren Malric? I'm Zack… from the city guard. We need to talk."
A scream ripped through the quiet morning of Dravelyn. Smoke curled from one of the central market stalls, and wood and metal fragments tumbled to the ground. People scattered in all directions, clutching their tools and crates—but never coins.
Soren Malric's boots pounded the cobblestones as he ran toward the chaos. At 22, he bore a responsibility far beyond his years—he was the anchor for his sisters, Elara and Seris. His sharp eyes scanned the panicked crowd. Sparks from the fire leapt onto nearby stacks of fabric and produce, turning the morning bustle into a dangerous maze. He ducked under a low-hanging sign and twisted around a corner, narrowly avoiding a falling beam. The bells of the market square rang frantically, warning everyone that control had slipped completely.
Amid the chaos, Soren noticed the difference: those who moved with precision, guiding and protecting others, commanded attention. Those without skills were pushed aside, swallowed by panic. This was the law of Dravelyn in practice—silent, harsh, unavoidable.
By the time he reached the quieter lanes near his home, the noise of the market was fading into the distance. The small, worn houses stood orderly, a stark contrast to the disaster he'd just navigated. Smoke still lingered faintly in the breeze, a reminder that even the familiar could turn dangerous in a heartbeat. Soren pushed open the creaking wooden door of his home and entered. Inside, two figures stirred, eyes alert to his arrival.
One of the sisters, eyes wide with concern, asked, "What happened in the town?"
Soren's jaw tightened. "The Hollow Exchange has struck again. They've come for another victim."
Seris stepped closer, her voice trembling slightly. "Who… who is their victim this time?"
Soren took a deep breath, his eyes darkening. "Someone from the eastern district. We don't know their name yet, but the Exchange doesn't strike randomly.you have to "Stay inside. For the next three days, no one leaves this house until every member of the Exchange has moved on. Elara, make sure the windows are secure. Seris, keep the kitchen and corridors clear.
The house fell silent after Soren's orders. Elara and Seris obeyed, listening closely to him.
Suddenly, Through the window, Elara noticed a shadow moving swiftly past the street outside. She leaned closer, her voice tense. "Soren… one of the Hollow has passed by here."
Soren moved quickly to the window and drew the curtain tight, blocking any view from outside. He pressed his forehead against the cool fabric for a moment, listening. The faint sounds of the street—the distant clatter of footsteps, the soft whisper of someone passing—kept his senses alert. He stepped back and told Elara to sit beside him on the couch.
Once she sat down, he asked quietly, "Which field did you feel when they passed by?"
Elara shook her head. "I… I don't know."
Alone in his thoughts, Soren muttered under his breath, "My field… my ability…"
Then he called to his other sister, Seris. "In your field… remind me, what is your ability?"
Seris answered softly, "My ability… is to detect poisons."
He turned back to Elara, "Your field is Trade… your ability is to detect lies."
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "But as for me… I haven't discovered my true talent yet, even though I know I belong to the Crafts field."
He sank deeper into his thoughts. "I have to discover my ability as soon as possible… I hope it's something that allows me to fight, so I can protect my only family—my dear sisters." Suddenly, Seris pulled him into a gentle hug. "I know you're worried about us, But there's no need to fear—we are strong".
then glanced at Elara "right?"
Elara nodded firmly, meeting Seris's gaze. "Yes… we'll face them together."
Soren felt a warmth spread through him, a mixture of relief and determination. He had to discover his ability soon, for their sake. His mind began turning over possibilities within the Crafts field, thinking of ways he could test even a small spark of his power.
Four days had passed. The streets were quiet again, and the danger from the Hollow Exchange seemed to have moved on—for now. Soren decided it was time. He needed to discover his ability.
He gathered tools from around the house, preparing to test each possibility within the Crafts field: crafting, building, repair, and defense. One by one, he would attempt them, focusing all his attention, hoping to awaken even a spark of his true power.
Finally, discovered his first ability: he could strengthen wooden objects. Anything made of wood could become tougher and harder.
He held a simple wooden stick in his hands, focusing all his attention. Slowly, he felt a surge of energy flow into it. The stick became solid, unyielding, and surprisingly heavy.
Suddenly, a scream pierced the quiet of the house. "That's Elara!" Soren shouted to himself.
He rushed toward the sound, heart pounding. When he arrived, he found Elara on the ground, clutching her head, eyes wide with pain, while Seris knelt beside her, looking both shocked and worried. He rushed to her side, kneeling down quickly."Elara! Can you hear me?"
Elara clutched her head tighter, her voice weak."It… it hurts so much…". a strange symbol appeared on her forehead, glowing faintly for a moment before vanishing.
Elara: "Ah…!"
Her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed, fainting into Soren's arms.
Soren: "Elara! Hold on!" and lifted her carefully, supporting her head and back as he carried her toward her bedroom. And said: "We'll get you to bed safely, just stay with me."
About an hour later, Soren was still sitting beside her, not moving, waiting for her to wake up.
slowly opened her eyes.
Soren: "Are you alright?"
Elara: "I… I still feel some pain in my head."
Soren: "Do you want me to take you to a doctor, or…?"
shook her head weakly.
Elara: "No… I think I'll be okay… just need some rest."
Soren nodded, still concerned, and gently adjusted the blanket around her.
Soren: "Alright… but call me if the pain gets worse."
After she slept.
He walked quickly to his father's library, the house silent around him. He ran his fingers over the shelves until he found an old, dusty book on the desk: The Codex of Ancient Symbols. "Maybe this will tell me what that symbol means…"
He flipped the pages carefully, the smell of old parchment filling the air. Soon, he came across a symbol that looked exactly like the one that had appeared on Elara's forehead.
His eyes widened as he read the passage. "No… this can't be…"
The text described the symbol clearly: it marked the next victim of the Hollow Exchange. A warning, written in an old, faded hand, read: "Whoever bears this mark walks toward inevitable doom unless protected by the true strength of their field. His chest tightened, and his hands shook as he clutched the book to his side.
Soren: "Elara… no… I can't let anything happen to you."
His mind was a storm of fear, imagining the danger that now hung over her, and his heart pounded so hard he thought she might hear it from where she lay.
he strarted searching the shelves for another book that might explain how to remove the symbol.
Suddenly, a shadow appeared behind him, its voice cold and low.
"Hello, Soren Malric… it's already too late."
Soren spun around, heart racing, his breath coming in short gasps.
"W-who… who are you? What do you mean, too late?"
The shadow remained silent, its presence suffocating, filling the small library with a cold, ominous weight.
The shadow spoke again, its voice chilling.
"Listen…"
A sudden scream pierced the air—Seris.
Soren: "Seris!"
He dashed toward the sound, only to see another shadow holding Elara, while Seris lay on the ground, bleeding heavily from her stomach.
His eyes widened in horror as the first shadow approached him. Furious, he swung his fist at it—but his hand passed through the dark figure as if it were nothing.
The shadow's voice echoed around him, calm yet menacing.
"You can't touch me, Soren… I am not really here. This… this is only an illusion."
Soren's voice trembled, but he forced himself to speak. "Who… who are you?"
The shadow's tone grew deep and terrifying.
"We are the Hollow Exchange. You've surely heard of us.
We come to this city every four days."
Soren's voice cracked with anger and fear.
"Damn you! What do you want from my sister?"
"She belongs to us.
We are here to reclaim what is ours… nothing more."
Soren clenched his fists, his voice shaking with rage.
"And what will you do to her after you take her?"
The shadow answered without hesitation. "She will become one of our slaves from this day on.
We will do with her whatever we want."
Soren screamed, his voice breaking with fury.
"Damn you! I won't let you take my sister—even over my dead body!"
The shadow replied without a hint of concern.
"And can you really do anything about it?""Be grateful we didn't take you with her… and that we haven't killed her yet."
It began to fade, its form dissolving into darkness. "We are still busy taking others for now.
I don't have the time to talk to you any longer."
With those words, it vanished completely.
Soren fell to his knees, rage exploding inside him. He slammed his fist into the ground. "Damn it… damn it!"
He turned quickly toward his sister lying on the floor and grabbed her shoulders.
"Seris! Stay with me—please! Don't you dare die!"
Her lips trembled slightly as she let out a weak breath.
"Soren…"
The moment she responded, Soren rushed to the cabinet, his hands shaking as he grabbed medicines and bandages. He knelt beside her again, working as fast as he could, pressing the bandages against her wound. She had lost too much blood there was no time to waste.
After a tense few moments, she slowly regained consciousness.
Soren:"Are you… feeling any better?"
He studied her carefully, worry etched on his face.
"How… how did they do this to you?"
Her voice was weak, but clear. "When I tried to stop that shadow from taking our sister… it stabbed me with some strange weapon it had."
A sudden knock on the door made Soren jump. He rushed to open it, heart still pounding from the recent chaos.
Standing there was a tall man in a dark uniform, his expression serious.
"Soren Malric? I'm Zack… from the city guard. We need to talk."