Rain poured endlessly over the small town on the northern edge of the Middle District, drumming on the stone rooftops and slicking the palace courtyard below. The sky was a dark, brooding gray, and the downpour seemed endless. Under the heavy deluge, a group of onlookers had gathered in the courtyard, their shadows flickering in the torchlight that fought the storm.
At the center of their attention stood a tall young man of about nineteen. His name was Kael.
A loose, mocking smile rested on his lips as he looked around at the youngster on ground,
"Heir of the Third Family,"
he scoffed loudly, his voice slicing through the storm's roar.
"Really? It all sounds like fairytales to me."
His words trailed off into laughter, and his companions joined in, the sound echoing off the wet stone walls.
A hush fell suddenly over the courtyard – as if the rain itself had paused in curiosity – until it was broken by the Elise's sharp laugh cut through the stillness echoing off the stone walls, A woman in her mid-thirties. She was elegant and calm, beautiful even in the rain, with dark hair clinging to her shoulders. Her smile was small but cruel as she stepped forward and raised a slender finger.
"This?"
she echoed, her voice sweet but biting. She pointed down at the other figure in the courtyard as if the very notion of him as an heir were a joke.
Kneeling in the cold, soaked mud was a boy named Alex, perhaps seventeen years old. He was gaunt and bent; his head bowed low so that his dripping hair fell like a curtain over his eyes. Alex's trembling fingers were knotted together tightly, though the chill of the rain seeped into his bones. His body shook, but not from fear alone – something else lurked beneath that trembling. Curiosity, determination… something he kept hidden from all eyes.
No one could see Alex's face. Perhaps that was for the best. Because if someone had dared to meet his gaze… they might have seen what even Alex tried to keep hidden.
The tall young man with the mocking grin lifted a long wooden staff and jabbed it toward Alex.
"Stand up!"
he barked. His voice was icy, a command with no room for refusal. Alex obeyed at once, pushing himself unsteadily to his feet. His body swayed like a reed in the wind – not from panic, but as if fighting against exhaustion and pain. Every breath he took was loud in his ears, ragged and heavy.
A ring of children and teenagers circled them all, pressed close despite the rain. On many faces were cruel grins; on others, open scorn. Some of the younger boys snickered as they aimed furtive glances at him. A few of the older girls giggled, hiding behind their hands. Others stared impassively, as if observing some tragic experiment playing out in front of them.
The woman beside the boy who had spoken chuckled softly and peered at Alex. The torchlight glinted off her eyes as she allowed her gaze to sweep over him. Then she leaned in, letting a faint smile spread across her face, and spoke with theatrical softness, as if delivering a final verdict.
"Seventeen years old… and his sigil still hasn't awakened," she purred.
Her words rippled through the crowd like poison. For a moment, the rain-drenched courtyard was eerily silent, save for the distant rumble of thunder. Then murmurs began, low and cruel.
"He's already seventeen… he's nothing more than a joke by now."
"No sigil? No worth at all."
"In this world, a human without a sigil is nothing but a burden."
Each whispered sentence was another nail hammered deep into Alex's heart. His cheeks burned even under the cold rain. He glanced up, but met only a sea of smirks and pitying stares. A sting of shame flushed through him, and he bowed his head still lower.
Faster… faster… The chants of disdain in his ears grew louder, but Alex dared not protest. He felt the weight of a thousand eyes on him – each one judging him, condemning him without mercy.
With a heavy sigh, he sank back to his knees. The mud squelched beneath him, icy and unforgiving. He buried his face in his arms, as if curling into the only place he truly belonged – the damp, unfeeling ground.
Just then, something shifted under Alex's right hand. The wet earth he pressed against trembled — but only for the barest instant. It felt to him like the ground itself had drawn breath, just once, beneath his fingers.
It was so subtle, so slight, that not a single person noticed.
Not a single soul.