Warmth,
The sun rays beamed down on her causing her to feel a sensation she almost forgotten. It felt like a lie.
She was dishevelled. Her dark hair was a matted nest, her simple dress tattered and stained with the filth of the dungeon. She smelled of straw, damp stone, and despair. All because she had fought back. All because of the evil she had once called her uncle.
The Church hadn't cared that she was a child, or even that she was a Synchrite. She had assaulted an Arcon in training, and punishment was the only language they understood. They had banked on the imprisonment breaking her. And in the darkness, sobbing for her executed father and the mother who took her own life, it nearly had.
Her salvation came from the most unlikely source, Lucius, the Arc's Authority himself.
Hearing of the girl from Geneeva who had caused such an uproar, he found it amusing. His offer to the Church was simple, release her to train for the Chimera Cross Trials. To sweeten he deal, he offered to participate himself. After refusing multiple times before, his sudden change of heart was an offer they couldn't refuse.
They had no choice but to let her out of her cage.
She remembered how she was woken.
"How cruel…"
Ester blinked. A pair of polished boots stood outside her cell. She looked up to see a man in a white cloak and black armour, his face pale and hallow, his hair slicked back. He smiled, but it was hollow.
"Huh…?" she mumbled, still half asleep.
"Get up child. You are being granted your freedom."
The words should have been a thunderclap of joy. Instead, they landed with a dull thud. She had been certain her fate was to rot, to die as the monster she believed herself to be.
She stood slowly. The man loomed over her. She said nothing, her trust in promises from Officials had long been exhausted.
He exhaled, rubbing his brow as if she were a pain in the ass.
"Your freedom is conditional. You will enrol in the Halls of Synchrites and train for the Chimera Cross Trials."
The Cross Trials… She remembered seeing a segment as a little girl. It was weird, her freedom now supposed to be the prize.
Her hesitation was a second too long.
"Why hesitate?" he snapped, waving a frantic hand at the environment. " Look around you! Do you like this shithole.?"
"That's not it.."
"Then why?"
".. I'll be proving them right," she lowered her voice, the confession torn from her. "That I'm just a monster."
The Man just snorted. "So? You better hope your a monster if you want to rank in the Trials . Besides, once you have enough, what can their words do to you?"
The concept was so alien it was almost incomprehensible.
"I'll give you another fact," he said, leaning in slightly. "The reason I'm here...your patron...is Lucius the Praised."
Ester couldn't believe it. Lucius? The Lucius?
"Why..why does he..?" she stammered.
He didn't answer. Instead, he turned to a Geneevan official and nodded. The man fumbled with a heavy ring of hundreds of keys.
"Son of a-" Jacen cried, his impatience boiling over.
"Are you a Synchrite?" Ester asked.
"Yes, girl," he said, exasperated. "My name is Jacen."
The name rang a bell. Her eyes dropped to the twin swords on his hips. The slayer..?He seemed to catch her recognition, letting out a dismissive scoff.
"The paperwork is done. You'll be there for the introductions. These two will escort you," he stated, then paused at the door. "If Lucius sees something in you...I will hold you to that standard. May blessings follow you, Ester."
He disappeared into the light, leaving her with the jangling keys and the cursing official.
"Alright," the man finally grunted, unlocking the door. "Get out of there, you little monster."
If he sought to provoke her, she was provoked. But she let it slide, storing the insult in a cold, new part of her heart. She simply stepped out, snatching the brown cloak he held out for her.
The carriage ride was quiet, golden-hued dream that lasted the whole afternoon. But inside, Ester's mind was a storm. She didn't know what to feel, gratitude or suspicion were both irrelevant. The only fact that mattered was her own weakness. But that was their mistake, letting her out of that cell. They would regret it.
They arrived in the evening. The institution loomed before her, a grand training ground with fields that bled into the distant shadows. Torches blazed, leading up a flight of steps to massive doors that swallowed the light. Her escorts guided her forward. When she asked if she could clean up first, they just laughed. "You're already late," one said. She didn't believe that was true reason.
The world outside vanished as they stepped into a hallway of profound, swallowing dimness. Why light the outside so brightly, only to shroud the inside in shadow? She kept the question to herself, a seed of unease.
Then, the doors at the end swung open. A wave of sound and light hit her. About eighty kids sat in the auditorium, their attention fixed on three adults at the front. The groan of the hinges turned every head. Eyes, sharp and judgmental, quickly turned around, scanning her ragged appearance. Whispers slithered through the room like snakes. For the first time, she was acutely aware of the dirt on her skin and the taters of her dress. Her heart plummeted. She was marked before she'd even spoken a word.
The man at the front cleared his throat, pulling the attention back to him. He was dark-skinned with close-cropped white hair. A single scar carved a path from his forehead, down past his left eye, taking it and a piece of his ear as well. His hands rested on the pommel of a great-sword that gleamed silver and gold.
"Where's the other one?" grunted the man built like a fortress beside him.
"I suppose he's running late as well," the woman on his other side replied, her voice gentle.
"Ester, I presume?" the scarred man said, his voice carrying an easy authority. "Please, sit." He offered a genuine-looking smile. She numbly found an empty space, careful to make herself small.
"I'll start this again, since we had one person late," he said, as groans filled the air. "...I'll skip to the important parts. My name is Markos Alauris. A Geneevan son. One of the few Five-star Synchrites on the continent, currently ranked….top ten. I will be your instructor." He paused, a subtle smile playing on his lips. "Some of the Synchrites you'll face...you may have already heard of them. Like Lucius the Praised."
The name was a lightning strike. A shockwave of gasps and murmurs electrified the auditorium. Lucius. The name was a legend, a story she'd listened to with wide-eyes from a boy she'd once knew.
Markos raised a hand, regaining control. "I know how that sounds. But wouldn't you like the chance to prove yourself against a legend? To prove to the world you can become one In your own right? Who knows," he said, his gaze sweeping across the room, " maybe the one who can best him is sitting here right now." His words were a spark, igniting a blaze of excitement.
"Tomorrow, we begin training at first light. Get a good night's rest, because we start by whipping you all into shape. That is all."
As the crowd filed out, making sure to stare at Ester, Markos called Ester back. His two companions watched her approach. The bearded fortress of a man, and the woman in the green with a serene, motherly smile. A lion with a body of shimmering pale blue glass slept at her feet, while a dark-feathered bird with glowing green eyes watched Ester from its perch on her shoulder. The woman's smile was warm, but everything about her screamed deadly.
Ester searched his face and found no deceit ,only a weary pity. She managed a quick nod, her eyes dropping to the floor, afraid that meeting his eyes...eye? Would shatter her completely.
The woman, Lillia, stepped forward and pulled her into a gentle hug. Ester stood stiffly for a moment before yielding, the unexpected kindness a painful ache in her chest.
"I pray you succeed in these Trials. Ester," Lillia whispered. "Doing well can open so many doors for you."
She didn't need to say it. Ester already knew. In this world, status was power. And power was the only tool that could exact her revenge. They told her where to bathe and that new clothes were in her dorm. As she left, Ester noticed the tension she had missed before, the clenching of the fortress-man's fist, the tightening of Markos's jaw. Something big was in play.
That night, sleep was impossible. She wrestled with the thin sheets, her mind lopping on a nightmare reel, the crack of bone, the slick warmth of blood on her hands, her mother's voice screaming monster. A groan escaped her as she turned, making the bed creak.
"Um...is everything okay down there?"
A head popped down from the bunk above hers. Her dorm mate, Sapphire, or Saphy, as she insisted, was a small girl with a face full of concern. When Ester had first encountered the dorm, Saphy had hugged her without a second thought, utterly oblivious to Ester's grime or stiff resistance.
"Yes...I'm fine," Ester whispered, her voice raw.
Saphy, however, wasn't buying it. She dropped down and jumped into Ester's bed, a bundle of innocent energy. "What are you doing?" Ester asked, startled.
"Comforting you, duh," Saphy said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. She pulled the blanket over her head, her voice becoming muffled. "I'm not the brightest, so I have no clue what could be troubling you. And you don't have to tell me. But I do know things are a bit easier if someone is with you."
The simple words disarmed Ester completely. She didn't have friends. The gesture was foreign, uncomfortable, but not unwelcome.
"...Thank you," Ester murmured, the words feeling strange on her tongue.
Saphy then launched into a rambling story about her younger sisters and their nightmares. Ester listened, soothed by the girl's presence, which seemed to exude an unnatural calm. As if, for now, everything might actually be okay. She slowly drifted into a peaceful sleep. Morning would come, and the preparations for the Trials would begin. But for tonight, she was content.