When I first heard about the awakening ritual, I could not believe it.
It was like being told that to grow stronger, a part of you had to be severed—like a lizard's tail, but infinitely more personal and violent. Would you believe something so brutal?
Of course not.
But then, the Empress showed me the process a year ago. I watched as children, some no older than ten, were led forward. They stood before a priest who held a ceremonial dagger. With a single, swift motion, the blade was plunged into each child's chest, aimed for the heart. I saw them stiffen, their eyes flying wide before glazing over. Blood bloomed on their tunics as they crumpled, falling into a deep, death-like unconsciousness—the state they called "the Awakening sleep."
Some woke hours later, their eyes alight with new power—affinities for flame or stone, abilities to command beasts or bend light. But others… others never stirred again. Their small bodies were carried away on silent stretchers.
I was terrified. My first instinct was to run, to hide—because what sane person would willingly let someone stab them in the heart?
Not me.
The Empress was insistent. "Everyone who belongs to the royal family must awaken," she had said, her voice leaving no room for argument. "There is no place for the weak here."
Over time, the fear didn't vanish, but it was buried under layers of harsh training. The best instructors drilled me, preparing my body and mind for the violation to come. Part of that training involved being stabbed. Not in the heart, of course, but perilously close. I lost count of how many times a practice blade pierced my flesh just beside my ribcage. It was hell. Each time, the pain was a white-hot brand, a shocking reminder of my own fragility.
But I endured. If I wanted to be more than the weak, pathetic creature I felt like, I had to.
Even as I grew accustomed to the idea, a deep pity settled in my heart for the children of this world. Comparing their harsh childhoods to the relatively safe ones back on Earth was like comparing an ant to a frog—the scale of suffering was incomparable.
I shook the dark thoughts away, focusing on the present. I had just finished eating, wiping my mouth with a linen napkin. When I looked up, I found everyone at the table staring at me. I was confused for a moment, until my eyes fell on the empty platters stacked beside my seat—enough food to have fed three grown men.
"Ah…" A soft sound of realization escaped me.
I had been so lost in my head that I'd eaten mechanically, devouring everything within reach. Now they all thought I was a glutton.
The Empress looked at me with her usual impassive, cool gaze. "Are you done?"
I nodded, feeling a flush of embarrassment. "Yes, Your Majesty. Sorry to have kept you waiting."
"Then let us depart."
Suddenly, a warm, golden light—the color of the midday sun—wrapped around our bodies. It didn't burn; it was a gentle, harmless warmth that hugged my skin. We didn't flinch. We were used to it. This was Alexandra's power, wrapping us in solar energy to whisk us away.
Just before the world dissolved into a swirl of light, I heard Alexandra's voice whisper directly in my ear, a note of dry amusement in her tone. "You eat too much."
Then my vision warped, and I couldn't even form a retort.
We reappeared somewhere deep within the palace, standing before a pair of massive, intricately carved golden doors. Two guards in full, gleaming golden armor stood sentry, spears held perfectly vertical. As reality settled around us, they dropped to one knee in perfect unison, their armor clinking.
"We greet Your Majesty, the Princesses, and Young Master Lucas!"
Alexandra merely waved a hand in dismissal.
No matter how many times I see it, Alexandra's teleportation is amazing, I thought, my mind momentarily distracted by the sheer power on display.
From what I'd uncovered, she possessed the Sun Affinity, one of the rarest in this world, and she was its sole known holder. If you're thinking she must also have a Space Affinity to teleport, you'd be wrong.
Mages can create teleportation portals through complex spellwork, often requiring rare reagents and hours of chanting. What Alexandra did was unique to her. It was Solar Teleportation—an ability that allowed her to transform herself and anyone she chose into a beam of pure solar radiance, traveling instantly to any unwarded, sunlit location. It was a breathtakingly powerful, and frankly, broken ability.
The only downside was its limitation: it couldn't be used at night, in absolute darkness, or under powerful anti-light wards.
The guards rose and heaved the colossal golden doors open. We walked through.
The hall inside was cavernous, with tiered seating along the sides filled with figures who exuded a palpable, terrifying aura. The air itself felt thick with power and scrutiny.
The moment we stepped across the threshold, dozens of red gazes locked onto us. Most settled on me—the outsider. I felt their stares like physical weights: some dripped with displeasure, others with cool assessment, and a few held a spark of morbid amusement.
I ignored the hostile ones, keeping my face a careful mask of neutrality.
Are they the Uchiha clan or something, with all this glaring? I clicked my tongue inwardly.
In the center of the hall was a large, rectangular pool of clear, still water. Standing within it was a man I knew well.
Arthur Morgan was tall, easily six and a half feet, with a lean, powerful build and broad shoulders. His hair was the color of spun gold, cut short at the nape of his neck. His eyes, a matching molten gold, found mine the instant we entered, and a small, professional smile touched his lips. As Alexandra's personal guard and right hand, he was the one who would guide us through the awakening—the one who would wield the dagger.
Everyone in the hall rose. Arthur and the assembled elders brought a fist to their chests in a synchronized salute. "We greet the Sun Empress!"
Alexandra gave a slight, regal nod. Then, in a flash of red-gold light, she was no longer beside us but seated upon a throne of refined black wood at the far end of the hall, red velvet padding accenting its severity. She rested her chin on a clenched fist. "You may begin the awakening ceremony." Her gaze swept over us, lingering for a fraction of a second. "Do not disappoint me."
The collective focus of the room swung from the Empress to us. The pressure of their combined attention was overbearing, a dense wall of expectation and judgment. I focused on my breathing, on keeping my expression utterly still, refusing to let a single crack show.
Seeing that none of us buckled, the subtle pressure they were exerting eased. An old man with fiery red eyes in the front row gave a grunt of approval. "They should be able to handle this much, at least."
"Now," Arthur's voice rang out, clear and resonant in the silent hall. "We are here to witness the awakening of the future of our empire. The ones who will one day lead." His golden eyes moved from Londres, to Andromeda, and finally, to me. "Of course, that includes Young Master Lucas, who was not born into the royal family but now finds himself within its orbit. However, his place is not yet cemented. His performance today will determine whether he truly becomes one of us. We do not allow weakness in our circle." He offered a shallow, polite bow in my direction. "I hope I have not offended you, Young Master Lucas."
"No offense taken," I replied, my voice steady. I had almost let myself forget that my position here was conditional, hanging on the thread of whatever power—if any—I awakened today.
Some of the elders had been furious when the Empress brought a commoner into the palace. Did she care? Not a whit. So they had struck this bargain: I could stay only if I awakened an ability worthy of the royal name.
I didn't know what awaited me in that pool, but I had to believe it would be something decent. The alternative—being cast back into the grinding poverty I was born into—was not an option.
"Who will be the first to step into the basin?" Arthur asked.
Londres glanced back at me, her eyes sparkling with a clear challenge, hoping I would go first and humiliate myself. I denied her the pleasure.
With a gracious, slightly exaggerated bow, I said, "Ladies first."
Her frown deepened, and she threw a glare so sharp it could have cut glass. She then looked at Andromeda, who met her gaze with the same unreadable, placid expression she always wore. Knowing Andromeda, she would never volunteer to go first.
"Fine," Londres bit out, turning back. "I will go first, Uncle Arthur."
"Splendid," Arthur said, clapping his hands once. The sound echoed. "Please, step inside."
Londres walked into the pool, her boots making soft ripples in the water. She didn't bother removing them; the ritual didn't require it. She stopped in the center, standing before Arthur.
A silver dagger materialized in his hand, not through any obvious magic, but as if it had always been there. It was longer than a knife, its blade etched with faint, glowing runes in a language I didn't recognize.
Arthur placed his left hand firmly on her shoulder, a gesture that was both steadying and inescapable. With his right, he positioned the tip of the dagger over her heart. The runes flared with a soft blue-white light. "Are you ready?"
Londres looked at the blade, and I saw her throat bob as she swallowed. She would be lying if she said she wasn't scared, but she would rather die than show that fear in front of me, the "commoner bastard."
"Yes, I—" she began, her voice tight.
Thrust.
She didn't get to finish.
Arthur's arm moved with the smooth, unhesitating precision of a surgeon. The runed silver blade sank into her chest, clean and deep, up to the hilt.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Blood, shockingly red, welled around the blade and spilled from the corner of Andromeda's mouth. It fell in heavy drops, staining the clear water around her crimson. Her eyes flew wide, a gasp trapped in her throat by the fluid filling her lungs. The pain was clearly unimaginable—a violation at the most fundamental level.
Her knees gave out. Her vision darkened. The last thing she saw before the world went black was Arthur's calm, smiling face as she fell backward, sinking beneath the blood-tinged water.
A cold, detached thought drifted through my mind as I watched her submerged form.
I wonder what you'll awaken, you little bitch.