The throne room was long and narrow, its towering walls swallowing sound. A woman with sagging black hair and fair skin hurried across the stone floor, her grip tight as she dragged a small child behind her.
"You better not mess this up for me," she hissed, not slowing her pace. "If this works, I can finally start a new life—leave that miserable past behind."
She glanced over her shoulder, eyes sharp. "Are you listening? I'm your mother. That means your life belongs to me."
The child didn't answer.
He didn't nod. Didn't protest. He simply stared ahead, his expression blank, too calm for a child his age.
The woman clicked her tongue in irritation.
"Gosh, you're such a creepy brat. You never cry, never laugh—don't even smile." Her voice dropped, bitter. "I wish you were never born. Just looking at you reminds me of him…"
Abruptly, she stopped.
The woman fell to her knees, pulling the child down with her. "I thank you for meeting with me, Guild Master Jose."
Seated upon the throne was a flamboyant man, lounging as though the room existed solely for his amusement. He was slim, with long, straight dark red hair falling to his shoulders and a thin, neatly groomed mustache.
His face was long and sharp, ears subtly pointed, eyelashes prominent enough to seem deliberately styled. His dark lips curled upward in delight.
"Oh my~?" Jose chimed, resting his chin in his palm. "Well, well, well! What a surprise!"
He leaned forward slightly, eyes sparkling. "I never would have guessed you'd come crawling back to me, my dear little runaway."
His gaze slid lazily over the kneeling woman.
"After all these years away from the guild… surely you've come with the money to repay your debt, yes?"
"Well—about that…" Her voice wavered. She gestured quickly to the child beside her, who bowed stiffly.
"I don't have the money. But I can give you him instead—to settle everything."
The amusement drained from Jose's face.
"You don't have the money?" he repeated softly.
His eyes narrowed.
"And yet you dared to return?" His tone sharpened. "How utterly disgraceful."
"You joined this guild of your own free will," Jose continued, his voice rising as he stood slightly straighter. "I welcomed you. Sheltered you. Treated you as one of my children."
His smile vanished. "So why is it that after all that… you chose to abandon us?"
The woman trembled beneath his gaze.
"I—I had no choice, Master Jose," she stammered. "How was I supposed to know I got pregnant by that man?!"
"It isn't my fault!" she cried.
"Not your fault?" Jose echoed coldly. "You sound like a child caught in a lie."
He tilted his head. "Was it not you who became pregnant? Was it not you who fled the guild?"
He straightened.
"No. It was you." His voice hardened. "You left. And after that, I gave you a place to call home. You know the rules, leave the guild, and you repay everything I invested in you."
"I gave you days. Weeks. Months." His lips curled in disgust. "And now you dare to sell your own son as compensation?!"
Jose waved his hand dismissively.
"Shade Binding."
Shadows twisted.
Translucent, ghostly hands burst forth from the darkness, gripping the woman's arms and throat, lifting her screaming body into the air. Her cries echoed through the throne room, raw with fear and pain.
Jose rose from his throne, standing tall at 6'2" (188 cm), his slender frame looming over her.
"How about I simply kill you right here?" he said brightly, a wide, cruel grin stretching across his face. "That would certainly erase your debt."
He scoffed. "This world is ruled by magic. It exists in everything, yet not everyone can wield it."
"If you're not a mage… if you lack magic power…" His eyes gleamed. "Then you're nothing but trash."
The woman groaned, struggling uselessly against the spectral grip.
"M-Master Jose! Please—let me explain!"
"The boy!" she cried, pointing desperately at her son, who now stood upright, watching her without expression. "His father was a powerful wizard!"
Jose's gaze followed her finger.
The child met his eyes calmly, emotionless, unreadable.
"…If that's true," Jose muttered, interest flickering, "then there's a chance he could possess Innate Magic."
"Yes! Exactly!" she nodded frantically. "He hasn't undergone an Eternal Awakening yet, but you won't have to wait long!"
Jose looked back at her, unimpressed.
"Even if that were true, I have no way to confirm it. And there's no guarantee he'll awaken at all."
The ghostly hands tightened.
Tears streamed down her face.
"You won't have to wait," she gasped. "He'll turn six soon. Then you'll know for certain."
She forced a smile through the pain.
"He won't cause any trouble. He's obedient."
Her voice dropped to a cruel whisper.
"After all… he's worse than nothing. Because at least nothing can only disappoint you so much."
'What is the worth of a human life?'
'If I were to ask such a question… would anyone truly be capable of answering it?'
'No—worth is not the correct term.'
'What is the value of a human life?'
'And more importantly…
Who am I to decide the value of anything at all?'
'Then—what, precisely, is the value of my life?'
The child's thoughts were cut short by his mother's trembling, desperate voice.
"That's what you want, isn't it?" she cried. "For your guild to become the strongest in the land—second to none?!"
She pointed at him, hands shaking.
"He can help you achieve that! You can use him however you wish—however you need!"
Jose remained silent, eyes half-lidded as he considered her plea.
'Even if the boy inherits nothing from his bloodline', he thought, 'he may still awaken magic through proper guidance.'
Then…
"Why… do you despise me so deeply, Mother?"
For the first time, the boy spoke.
Both adults turned toward him.
"Have I committed some wrongdoing?" he asked quietly. "I… do not understand your words. I do not understand your hatred."
His expression remained composed, almost unnervingly so, yet his eyes betrayed him, dulled by sorrow.
"Is it because of my father?" he continued. "I possess no memory of him."
At the word father, a vein throbbed along his mother's temple.
"Is that why you loathe me?" the boy asked, lowering his gaze. "Because I resemble him?"
He bowed his head slightly.
"If I have caused you pain… then I offer my sincerest apology."
His small hands clenched at his sides.
"If it would ease your heart, you may strike me as you please. You may wound me as you wish."
His voice did not waver.
"I ask for nothing in return… except your love."
Silence followed.
Then…
"Someone like you could never be my son."
Her voice shook, tears streaming freely.
"Look at you. Sometimes I wonder if we're even related by blood."
She laughed bitterly. "And now you're useless. Completely useless."
Her words grew sharper.
"The only reason you ever mattered—
the only reason I kept you alive—
was because I could sell you."
She spat the truth like poison.
"That was all you were ever good for."
Her breathing became erratic.
"You make me sick. Just looking at you turns my stomach."
She shook her head violently. "You're weak. You can't stand on your own. You survive only by clinging to others."
Her voice cracked, but not with remorse.
"If you had never existed… maybe I could have become something. Maybe my life wouldn't have rotted like this."
Her lips curled in fury.
"I curse the day you were born." She glared down at him. "You should have never been born at all."
The boy did not cry.
He did not tremble.
His face remained unchanged.
And yet…
Something inside his chest grew heavier.
"I accept your terms," Jose finally said.
With a dismissive wave of his hand, the ghostly restraints vanished as if they had never existed.
The woman collapsed to the floor, bowing deeply.
"Thank you," she said hoarsely. "I am truly grateful."
She turned toward the exit, then paused beside the boy.
"This is my final gift to you," she said coldly.
"A curse."
"A curse born of hatred."
She did not look back as she left.
'Hatred shapes the sou'l, her thoughts whispered. 'A person's heart determines the nature of their power.'
'Hatred can destroy nations… even the world itself.'
'Embrace it, my son.'
'You are the last of his bloodline—
worthy of the name Ebonveil.'
The chamber fell silent.
After a long moment, the boy lifted his head.
"…What was my mother's debt?" he asked calmly.
Jose considered him. "Seventy thousand Jewels."
At that, a faint, sorrowful smile touched the boy's lips.
"That sum…" he said softly, "would not even purchase a modest home."
His gaze lowered once more.
'So this is it, 'he thought.
'This… is the value of my life.'
Author's Note:
This story contains themes of abuse, trauma, and sexual assault. While the events are not shown explicitly in this chapter, they are intentionally implied and will be explored more fully later in the story.
These themes are not included for shock value, nor to excuse any character's actions, but to explore how trauma can distort people—and how its consequences are passed on. Reader discretion is advised.