A young boy and his father, followed by at least a dozen servants, walked out of a room meant for military strategists. The servants were all dressed uniformly and walked in such perfect unison it could be confused for a march straight out of a military parade. The boy and his father walked ahead of them, both in clothes so extravagant and luxurious a peasant of their empire would faint at a mere thought of the possible price. Their snow-white hair clashed against their pitch-black tailored suits. The whole sight was so bizarre; an observer would be forgiven if they didn't catch a pair of white, fox-like ears and a bushy tail on the two of them.
"Finally! I thought the meeting would never end!"
Loudly and exasperatedly groaned the boy. The hall was what an aristocrat would call "tastefully decorated", which in simpler terms meant it had so little decoration an echo of the sentence reverberated throughout it. The father's milky-white eyebrows furrowed into a grimace as he spoke.
"Alexander, while you're not the firstborn, you still have a decent chance to the throne because of your mother's actions. Would you like to squander her efforts?"
Alexander's face fell at the chide, but he knew that no matter what he had said his father would somehow manage to scold him for it. One would think it'd have to be his Spiritmark ability to be so effective.
"No father. But I listened through the meeting! Not only that, I gave a couple of solid suggestions! The generals were impressed, you know they were!"
The father smiled a bit, but tried to remain stern so his son didnt get conceited.
"I will admit, you did argue your points eloquently, but thats to be expected of an heir to the throne. It is not something to be proud of."
Alexander turned around to admire the paintings of the past rulers, and used the opportunity to roll his eyes at his father's words. He decided to change the topic.
"So father...have you thought about that gift I requested?"
"You're not getting a pet."
"But whyyyy?! I will take care of it! I promise, I promise!"
"Your last pet was dead within a week! You caved her head into the floor!"
"I was 8! Please father! Sergei has at least 7 pets!"
"He takes care of them, and he's- Why am I even explaning myself to you?! No means no, Alex."
"But-"
"No buts!"
As Alexander started sulking, one of the servants from behind lightly tapped on the shoulder of Emperor Borian IV, informing him that he should go get dressed for the talks with the diplomats of the Elves and Dragonkind about the slavery laws. He turned to his son, ruffling his hair a bit. If you questioned them, the staff would report seeing the tail of the Emperor wag a bit.
"Its late. I have some buisness, but you go sleep."
"Yes father."
Unsatisfied with his fathers earlier words he quickly moved away from his hand, basically sprinting to his room. He opened the door, thinking about the whole evening.
'I really want a pet though! Guess operation sneakout is a go.'
While not as smart, eloquent, or well mannered as his elder brother Sergei, nor as social as his younger sister Elinia, he had one reedeming quality that put him in the race for the throne. Well, two, but his mother's status as a noble of the neighboring kingdom Dramalia couldnt be called "his quality". Or maybe it could. He wasn't in the mood for philosophy, so he looked through the window, waiting for the current guard's shift to end.
The factor that made him be able to compete was his sheer talent of mana arts. He had a mark, 2 sigils and even a crest at 15! While someone could undermine that fact by mentioning his inadequacy at his bloodline arts, it's not like it was necessary to be able to use it at his age anyways.
He started by using one of his sigils. It glowed on his skin, warming up his pectoral muscle, the black, inky marking becoming more and more like the purest gold. He concentrated and...Poof! In his bed was a perfect clone of him. The good thing that he didn't need to keep feeding the illusion mana, otherwise the next part of the plan would be undoable.
He climbed to his window, and surpressed his mana completely. He couldn't allow a singular morsel of it to flow out from his body, or the highly trained guards would notice him in 2 seconds flat. Then, he climbed the small balcony fence, held the bottom of the railing and dangled. There was at least 7 meters to the ground. His stomach was doing summersaults.
He knew he wasn't in serious danger, of course. Even if he made a mistake in the next step, he could just send mana to his legs, strengthening them. It'd alert the guards, obviously, but not much more. Even so, his brain couldn't work against the instinct something is wrong. He jumped, grabbing hold of an lamp, and slid down.
The fact no one noticed that stunt wasn't a coincidence, of course. For the last week he looked through his window every night so he'd know when to strike, memorizing the shifts of the guards. He ran to the gates of the castle, and even though the property is huge, he knew it like the back of his hand. Alex ran to the closest gap in the fence and squeezed through.
After getting a bit further from the castle, he used his second sigil, feeling the familiar warmth on his deltoids this time, which allowed him to create ice. While that ability would usually be limited to simple attack power, he could combine it with his crest, which warmed his lower back as it activated, that allowed him to change properties of ice, making its texture or feel almost anything, as long as it would still melt like regular ice.
He turned ice into a large cloak, obscuring his features. An average person would think he'd be cold, being encased in ice, but he was a snow fox-human, thusly it worked out. He was confident in his abilities, but if someone noticed he was the prince and he was attacked, it wouldnt turn out well.
Alex walked, went out onto a main street, got to a carriage taxi, and enjoyed the view of the frozen over forest forest on this stunning, imposing mountain.
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A slave in a market shivered. His cage was cold, cramped, and uncomfortable. He was hungry, his frozen over chains biting into his skin. He was careful not to move too much, lest the shackles rip his skin off. But he was a human, so he deserved it. Thats what his mother, father, slavers, and fellow slaves used to say. They, all humans, were a blight on the world. They did horrible things during the True War, and now they get to exist, no Spirit of humanity, no Spiritmark bearer.
He tried to bring himself comfort by thinking about his mother. She was bought 7 years ago, so he hadn't seen her in a long time. Still, she went to a royal! A real royal, and as a pet no less! Not as a worker, not as a servant, as a pet! She had to be happy now. The little prince had to be spoiling her rotten. The thought brought him happiness.
He looked around. In cages like his were dozens of slaves, around fifty of them. All humans, as only their race deserved it. He knew that to be true...and yet...why was he so angry? Maybe it was because he was a teenager. Or maybe it was because of that ugly thing in his dreams claiming to be the Spirit of humanity-but that can't be true, it died during the True War. And even if it was that abomination, his parents and owner taught him the Spirit was evil, so he didn't respond in his nightly visions.
He was so lost in his thoughts he didn't notice a cloaked figure and his current owner conversing about a price for him.
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"He has to be worth at least 75 Lumels! He even has a capacity for magic!"
The experienced slave seller said, shivering in the biting cold. His long ears wiggled. As an elf, this climate didn't suit him at all, despite having lived here over 10 years. Whatever, he was raking in serious money. The royals even visited his market once!
"A human with magic aptitutde? No way."
"Its true, esteemed buyer! He doesn't have a mark, but he has a core! If you trained him well enough..."
Alex considered the offer, saying:
"70 Lumels."
The seller pretended considering it, but he wouldve sold the pathetic slave for less then 50.
"Sold! His name is Rolan. If you want, you can use the slave contract mana arts here, we have an area-"
"No need. And, change the mana suppression chains for regular ones."
He knew he couldn't walk into the castle with either the collar or the chains on the pet, lest he risk the guards feeling the subtle residue of mana on the items. He planned sneaking him in (somehow), then using the arts to make him his slave officially in his room. Afterwards, his father couldn't break the collar even if he wanted to, and he wouldn't kill his son's pet. The guards...they might not have as much mercy.
"Alright."
The slaver changed the chain with practiced precision, then handed it to the buyer, sending him on his way.
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Rolan followed his new master into a carriage, not daring to speak when not spoken to. He learned that lesson the hard way. The memory of the thorough beatings made his blood boil with rage, for some odd reason. He had never felt this way before.
Before long they were in a dark tunnel near the mountain of the emperor's castle.
'Does my new master live near?'
As he was pondering these things, the coat of the person...melted? Can clothes melt? Maybe it was a new trend with the rich, he thought. Then, the figure turned around, and Rolan's eyes had stars in them.
"A..are you prince Alexander?!"
In his stupor he forgot that he shouldn't speak, but the memory of the child that bought his mother was fresh in his mind even after 7 years. He changed, grew, but that was Alexander, Rolan was sure of it!
"Oh? How'd you know? I thought slaves don't get access to pictures and newspapers."
"I..I knew it! T..that's perfect! I remember you, you had bought my mother! How is she, can I see her?!"
Any rage, any bit of indignity Rolan held vanished in a milisecond. He was as happy as when he got fed! No, he was even happier! He couldn't wait to see his mother, to get to hug her again, to see just how spoiled she had-
"Oh her? She's dead. Caved her head in playing with my sigil."
Rolan's head went blank. He thought he had misheard him. He must have, she was a pet of the royals! She had to be lying in a warm bed with access to three meals a day! In the end, all that left his lips was an pitfiul, confused:
"Huh?"
"Yeah, I wanted to see how tough humans were! I knew you had no mana, but I didnt expect that to happen so easily. Still, to think I bought her son, what a cool coincidence!"
Alex beamed Rolan a smile, then turned around, leading him to the castle. Rolan followed for a few steps. He watched the floor, but his gaze wasn't on it. He didn't even know what his thoughts were, if he had any. He just saw his wonderful mother standing in front of him.
The next thing he remembers is running to the prince, tying his neck with the chain and pulling.