Morning arrived without mercy.
The crooked streets slowly filled with people—men and women moving in tired lines, some heading to work, others already burdened with it. Wooden carts rattled over broken stone. Vendors shouted weakly, their voices hoarse from repetition. Life in the lower districts of Rigelia never slept long enough to heal.
I did.
I lay beneath my shelter, wrapped in rags and shadow, my body pressed against a thin rug that barely protected me from the cold ground. Above me, scraps of metal and rotten wood formed a roof that threatened collapse every time the wind grew bold. The morning weather was calm. Almost kind.
Sunlight slipped through cracks in the shed, laying itself gently on the streets beyond.
I wish I could sleep all day, I thought, pulling old papers over my face.
For a moment, I almost drifted back into nothingness.
Then—
A cold drop of dew slipped through a hole in the roof. It landed directly on my forehead. I flinched, sucking in a sharp breath as the chill spread across my skin.
"…damn it."
I pushed myself up slowly, muscles stiff, eyes heavy. Outside, I could already see movement—people walking with purpose, shoulders hunched, eyes hollow. No one walked because they wanted to. They walked because stopping meant death.
Darn it. I have work today.
I stood, grabbed my clothes hanging from a nail in the wall, and slipped them on. They smelled faintly of smoke and iron—scents that never truly left me. With one last glance at the shelter, I stepped out and headed for the morgue.
---
My boss was waiting at the entrance.
He stood with his back straight, eyes locked on a pocket watch in his hand, his face twisted into a deep frown. He looked like any ordinary overseer—probably in his forties—but everything about him screamed excess.
He was large. Broad. Heavy. Light skin. Rough, calloused palms. A thick stomach hung over his belt, yet his arms were still packed with muscle, stretching the fabric of his expensive sleeves. A wide bald spot split his thinning brown hair in two. This was not a man who lived in the lower districts. But shockingly he lives here. He wore wealth on his body. A man paid by citizens of the Golden District.
"You're late! Kenji " he barked, snapping the watch shut. "Where have you been?!"
"I'm very sorry, sir," I replied immediately, lowering my head. "It won't happen again."
"Hmph."
He pulled a cigarette from his left pocket, a lighter from the right, sparked it, and inhaled deeply. Smoke poured from his mouth as he pointed behind him.
"You're needed today," he said. "Take the dead to the burning site in the east."
I followed his finger. A massive carriage stood there—overflowing with corpses stacked like cargo. Limbs hung loose. Heads lolled at impossible angles.
"The east?" I asked carefully. "But the route passes through the Golden District. Commoners aren't allowed there."
"All I hear is grumbling," he snapped.Something cold struck my chest. I caught it. A square metal tag. Etched into its surface was a single word:
PASS
"What's this?" I asked.
"A pass tag," he said flatly. "Show it to the guards. If you don't… they might kill you on the spot."
---
I set off, pulling the heavy cart forward. The road split ahead—an intersection. To the left lay the eastern region. To the right stood the path to the Golden District. The guards spotted me from afar.
Weapons were raised. My grip tightened around the cart's handle. For a second, fear rooted me in place. My heart hammered against my ribs as memories of last night's beating flashed through my mind.Then I forced myself to move. Step by step. When I reached them, I held up the pass tag with a steady hand. They inspected it briefly, grumbling, exchanging looks before finally lowering their weapons.
"Well," one guard sneered, "at least the commoner gets to set his eyes on the Golden District path." They laughed.
I said nothing and continued forward. The moment I crossed the threshold, a breeze brushed against my face.
Cool. Clean. Gentle.Air unlike anything I had ever breathed. It filled my lungs without burning them. A tear slipped down my cheek before I even realized it. The road beneath my feet was smooth—perfect. No trash. No rats. No cracks. No filth. Just a flawless road shimmering faintly in gold. I stopped for half a second and stared.
Then exhaled. What kind of hope does this world truly have? I turned away and kept walking.
The Golden District loomed in my mind even after I left it behind.
The Karnyx vale kingdom is divided into five.
The golden district the largest region in the kingdom, protected by towering walls and endless guards. No commoner—no matter how curious or desperate—had ever seen what lay beyond those walls. It was a land for the wealthy. A paradise for rich men and women who enjoyed everything life could offer: clean water, rich food, free movement, strong security, and luxury beyond imagination.
Their power came from one truth— They were descendants of the Absolutes. Not just any Absolutes, but the most respected and well-known ones. Out of the hundreds that once existed, only around twenty were remembered—among them the Seven Great Absolutes. At least, that was what I had been told.
---
While Down here the 4 lower districts north,east,south,west —the land of the worthless—life was different. Some people were also descendants of Absolutes, but of those deemed insignificant. The Absolute of Water. Of Nature. Of the World Tree. Forgotten names. Forgotten legacies.while the rest are regular people. Not decendants just regular people. Because of that, the Golden District looked down on us.
They even passed a law that no one here was allowed to use their abilities{ that's to those that have} , as if stripping us of dignity wasn't enough.
Here, every meal felt like the last. People worked endlessly for wages that meant nothing—then were crushed by taxes heavier than their earnings. Those who couldn't pay were killed or thrown into prisons to rot. Disease spread freely. Medicine was too expensive. Guards were either few or none. Bandits and wild beasts attacked without restraint—creatures I often felt were deliberately unleashed.
This system of kingship was cruel.
A ruler was meant to protect those beneath him—not divide the world into the chosen and the disposable.
"I wish I could do something about this," I muttered, rubbing my bandaged arms.
---
The east was no better.
Fog hung thick in the air, darkness clinging to the streets. The towering Golden District blocked the sunlight, casting shadows that never moved. A thin man suddenly knelt before me. His skin was pale. His clothes torn.
"Please," he begged. "Can I borrow your tag? Not everyone here has one. I need to leave—my child is sick." He pointed toward a small girl curled in an alley. Without a word, I handed him the tag. They need permission just to survive… what is wrong with these people? At the graveyard, I unloaded the bodies into a massive pit and set them ablaze. Flames roared as smoke rose into the sky.
I stood there for a full minute. Silent. Watching the smoke disappear into the clouds.
---
Later . I stopped by the bar before heading home. It was quieter without the royals. I sat by the window, staring at my bandaged arms, my thoughts heavy. Everyone deserves good things in life. If I could change this world… I would.
"Hey, Kenji ," the bartender called. "Need a drink?"
"No," I said softly. "I can only afford dinner."
"This one's on the house."
I drank. Life spilled out in words—taxes, debt, slavery. Then I saw the poster. SCHOLARSHIP EXAM. Hope ignited. Even as the royals arrived,they mocked me. Even when they mentioned the fee.
Three hundred gold pieces.
Still—I did not back down.
---
The bartender smiled at me, he took me upstairs. He gave me his savings. I hugged him.
That night, I wrote everything down.
Plans. Costs. Resolve.
"I must get into that school," I whispered. "Not just for me—but for everyone living in the lower districts."
The Golden District.
The man from the east.
The bartender.
The people of this kingdom.
They stayed with me as I fell asleep.
---
End of Chapter 2