I thought I knew despair three years ago, but I was wrong. True despair came later. I was chained and thrown into a prison deep in the bowels of the Clan's main castle, left to rot on the cold ground of the prison.
The prison was cold, with low light from the lone torch that burned all the way down the long hallway in which the prison was constructed. The door was rusted, and the beds rotted. The Athrimir Clan did not imprison, their judgment usually came with heads rolling.
I was the only prisoner there and was fed once a day, sometimes none at all if the guard forgot. That happened more times than I could count, and I got used to staring at the darkness with a stomach too tired to grumble.
For the first few months, when I was still able to keep track of time, my anger simmered and built, at Nadia, my father, my stepbrother, the Clan, and the world. The anger fed me, and I dreamed of training myself and breaking out of the prison to show my father, but hunger and helplessness beat that out of me.
Train myself? That was laughable, since I didn't even know anything about Knight training. All my previous training was for manifesting my core and martial arts. My anger was replaced by dread, fear that took root inside me and mixed with my hunger, and I knew not when one began and the other ended.
Reality slowly began to sink in. This would be the place I would rot. I had found some spark, clawed at the door till my hands bled with desperation, and cried out. My bellows echoed down the hallway and bounced off the far door. I cried and shouted until my voice was raw and ragged. No one answered or came, except the guard who delivered food not fit for pigs.
I ate it anyway, and with gratitude.
I had shouted like that for a few days before the guard grew tired of me and beat me until I whimpered and soiled myself. I never cried out after that.
Six months passed like this, and I knew it was six months because Nadia finally visited me. She sat in front of me with the caged door between us and looked at me in silence. Seeing her was a shock to me because she had changed.
In just six months, I could already feel the power that rolled out of her in steady pulses. Her brown eyes were sharper, with a glint like stars, and she carried herself with the assurance only power gained and earned could give.
I hated her then and refused to say a single word to her. But she spoke, telling me what had happened since I was dropped into the hole.
"Everyone is pretending you don't exist. The Clan has moved on, and your brother has gained a lot of support while your father gained... some dishonor because..."
"Anyway, my mother, Cleir, has been crying herself to sleep every night, and her waking days are spent in front of the Clan building, pleading your case."
That roused me a little, and my green eyes watched her, dull and lifeless. Cleir was Nadia's mother, my mother's maidservant, and the one who raised me since my mother's death in childbirth. She was more of a mother to me than anyone.
Her fighting for me stung more than anything. I felt embarrassment and shame. I didn't deserve it.
Nadia chatted about her training and explained why she hadn't come sooner, Cleir had managed to beg for this much. She didn't stay long, and for that, I was glad.
Time became meaningless, and hunger became my companion. Hunger and cold. The cloak around me grew tattered, my hair thick with dirt and lice, my eyes sunken and lifeless, and my skin pressed tightly against my bones.
After one year and two months, Nadia came again and told me how much time had passed. I saw the shock on her face when she saw me, even though she tried to hide it.
I spoke first, my voice dry, raspy, and choked. "Your oath. Give it to the Clan."
Nadia stilled and pressed her lips together.
Knights could make names and advance through the ranks in various ways. Advancing required resources, massive resources, that Clans and the Knight Assembly could provide. They could also go independent or join Guilds and associations. But most people joined Clans or the Knight Assembly.
Basically, anyone who could sponsor their advancement.
Once they were officially Knights, they were expected to choose. When I declared that I wanted to become Emperor, Nadia promised to swear her Knight Oath to me.
She watched me for a long time before shaking her head. "I..." She took a deep breath. "I will not. At least, not until you die."
I cried again that day, later when she left. Stupid, when I should have been preserving the water in my body. I found a spark again, a drive to train, to grow strong but it died when I saw how thin my hands had become.
Two years after my imprisonment, I heard that my stepbrother, Thrain, became an official Knight. His Aspect was divine magic.
I knew this because Thrain told me himself.
"You look pathetic," Thrain said, his pale green eyes staring down in disgust at the rag I had become. He wore golden armor with a longsword on his back. He held a mirror to show me how I looked but shattered it. "You were always pathetic, but now you really look it. Strutting around as if you were something, this suits you. I will be Clan leader, and you will rot. Your friend, Nadia, I will get her oath. I can't let her waste away because of you." He left as if he couldn't be bothered anymore.
I felt humiliation, anger, and then... fear. Because I knew Thrain spoke the truth.
In the third year, I would be removed from my current despair and thrust into another, better one... maybe. I didn't care much at this point.