Faith looks at the bustling nightlife of New York city far below her. All the people walking around, some alone, some in groups. From where she stands it looks like none of them have a single care in the world, despite knowing that’s probably not correct.
She turns around and looks at her bedroom, her tower, her prison. A canopy bed, clad in silken sheets and drapes with a soft arctic blue colour.
A single vanity table, and a door leading to her ensuite and walk-in. It’s minimalistic, but it’s her punishment.
Her gaze slips back to the nightscape and the streets below. She would give everything to walk those streets now, but there is nothing she can do.
Why did she try to resist the marriage? She knows how her parents are. ‘24 years old, my life should just be starting, but I guess it’s already over.’ She thinks to herself.
She keeps recreating the conversation regarding her new fiance over and over in her head, but she doesn’t see any way out. Her parents care more about their company and reputation, than they do her.
“Just do as you’re told.” Her father keeps telling her, while her mother stands besides him, looking at her with disappointed eyes. It’s the same thing every time, like a video on repeat.
She can’t run away, she’s not naive enough to not know the lengths her father would go. The first issue would be having no resources, and all her friends and family cower in front of her parents and their influence. If it wasn’t for the resources, she knows she’d literally be hunted down. Sure they’d try to retrieve her at first, but she knows ‘accidents’ tend to happen around those who really are obstacles to her family.
Faith barks out a laughter, sounding hollow. Her life is like a bad gangster drama from the 50’s.
Despite the ‘imprisonment’, they still expect Faith to do her job.
‘Ah, if only I could enter the dungeons, or even the tower myself.’ She thinks.
Earth changed a lot a year ago. There was a big uproar about the class of social elites that vanished out of thin air. That focus didn’t last long, as only a week later things started to change in a big way.
The entire world blanked out or lost unconsciousness, nobody knows what really happened, as there would have been a lot of accidents, injuries and even deaths if everyone actually fainted. No, nothing happened. Some speculate that time simply froze, but again, nobody knows what truly happened, they only know what changed after.
Fantasy was just that, fantasy, until “the shift”. Regular humans changed into different species. Elves and beast people were the most common, having their own variations, with even a few [High Elves] popping up here and there around the world. The rare few even changed into something draconic, or angelic.
On average 85% of the population changed. The authorities are still trying to discover every new species and categorise them, but that’s not the most important change.
With the different species, came different supernatural abilities. Magic, martial arts, new technology, new resources. People were able to do fantastic things, but miniscule. Sure people could shoot fire out of their hands, talk to plants and make them grow, conjure a shield of ice, and other magical phenomena, but it was just the beginning.
The dungeons came first. Random portals opening around the world. In the forests, in the streets, under the oceans, above the clouds. So far there are probably around 10.000 dungeons just in the americas, and more are being discovered every day.
Dungeons weren’t really a new concept, not to a lot of people. They behaved more or less like they do in different works of fiction. A dungeon manifests. There are different biomes and themes for each dungeon, and different monsters. Clearing the objective of the dungeon resets it, and generates rewards in addition to the resources that can be harvested both from the flora, and the fauna. If a dungeon wasn’t reset for a period of time, it would break and overflow, spitting out monsters onto Earth.
Then came the tower. People have named it the Tower of Babel, from the bible. A massive tower sprouted in the middle of the North Atlantic ocean, reaching the bottom of the stratosphere. Portals and gateways connecting to the tower appeared in governmental buildings in every major city across the world.
Lastly, the system. The world had already seen changes over the last month, before everyone across the world had a screen pop up in front of them, and there were [System Messages] floating in the sky in every city.
That’s when chaos descended. Sure people realised the world had become reminiscent of a game, but when the system was introduced, these game elements were becoming tangible, turning into numbers and letters that could be compared.
Faith sighs while shaking her head, casting a glance at the floating screen that opened with just a thought.
Name: Faith Rosetti
Race: Kitsune (1 tailed)
Class: Elementalist (Cryo)
Level: 5
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Tier: 1
Physical: E
Magical: C+
Mental: C+
‘A year, and only five levels.’ Faith thinks as she laughs bitterly. The popular shifted in the media are already tier 2, level 20 and above. Sure levels don’t really matter, it’s your tier that unlocks new abilities amongst other things.
“Haah, enough procrastinating. I should get ready for work. Don’t want to get even more punishment.”
✧ ⋄ ⋆ ⋅ ⋆ ⋄ ✧ ⋄ ⋆ ⋅ ⋆ ⋄ ✧
Faith lets out a sigh as she enters the back seat of the car. Ignoring the driver paid by her parents. ‘It’s been six months since the engagement, six months of imprisonment. Still in the same predicament, with no way out.’ She thinks. Sure she’s envisioned different scenarios and plans, but she knows none of them work. Her parents are too powerful, have too much of a grip. She holds back a laugh, a habit she’s formed. Laughing when she’s desperate.
Faith watches the people walking the streets, the cars passing by, the shops and boutiques. She watches it all, but it doesn’t really register. Her mind is still too busy lamenting her future. She knows she’s complaining and whining a lot. While she won’t deny being spoiled when it comes to luxurious items, they’re not really for her. Yes she has the best of everything, designer clothes, cutting edge technology, but it’s not really for her, it’s for her image.
‘Politicians, why did my parents have to be politicians.’ Faith shakes her head. Her father has ties with the military, as he used to serve, but nowadays he’s working on something confidential, yet she knows it’s regarding the shifted and planning the future of the country. Her mother comes from a technological family, and she was slated to be the new head before she married Faith’s father. Now she’s a lobbyist for technology companies, and an important one.
‘Would you throw away everything you have, everything you are to gain power? To become free?’
Faith yelps as she hears a foreign voice in her head, before gathering herself and quickly pacifying the driver that wanted to notify her parents. Shaking her head at the man, she starts to wonder if she was just imagining things.
It does make her wonder though. ‘Would I throw away everything to gain power and freedom? Yes. I would. Maybe I wouldn’t know how it’d be to be poor, I’d still trade it for freedom. Would I give up who I am? No. I like who I am, while I could compromise on certain things, I wouldn’t throw away my sense of self just for another prison, another warden.’ She thinks, before laughing to herself at the ridiculousness. She knows the world has changed, but hearing voices is still not a good sign.
‘You have passed my test. Follow the woman of white. Her past may be frozen. Her path may be perilous, and her future may be drowning in blood. She will be your freedom, your salvation.’
This time Faith didn’t outwardly react, but now she knows she’s not imagining things. Her mind starts to whir at the words, but no matter how she tries to ask or get more information, there is no reply.
Sighing to herself, something she has done a lot lately, she leans back for the rest of the ride back to her home. Pondering the words.
✧ ⋄ ⋆ ⋅ ⋆ ⋄ ✧ ⋄ ⋆ ⋅ ⋆ ⋄ ✧
“Faith. You are required in conference room four at noon. There is a customer wanting to buy the rights to one of our dungeons.” Faith is dragged out of her thoughts, as her father speaks to her.
She raises an eyebrow, secretarial work? “Is there a reason I am being tasked with this, despite already managing over half of our dungeons?” Faith tests her limits, but flinches upon the grim expression on her fathers face.
“Stop asking questions. Just do as you’re told.” His voice is devoid of all emotion, like he’s talking to someone lesser, and it makes Faith shiver.
She sighs as he leaves the room. She’s still a prisoner in her own home, a year after the engagement. She knows that in three months, she will be wed and become a trophy wife and broodmare. She will have even less freedom than she has now. While her parents don't give her any freedom, she doesn’t really see them too often, maybe once or twice a week. It suits her fine, as it gives them time to cool off, as she’s become rather reckless as of late, pushing the boundaries and limits of her parents' tolerance. She knows it’s pettiness, but it’s the only way she can get back at them, a snarky comment here, a sarcastic reply there. Fully knowing it’s not making anything easier, she takes pleasure in knowing she’s making her mother uncomfortable with her change in behaviour, as it doesn’t fit the “perfect” image.
Throwing a glance at the clock, she sees it’s a quarter past eleven. ‘Haah. If I leave now I should have 15 minutes to spare.’
Faith quickly grabs her jacket before taking the elevator to the first floor, where she sees her driver waiting. Exiting the building, the driver opens the backdoor, and Faith climbs in, still pondering why she has to meet this client in person. While she’s not overwhelmed, she still has a lot of work to do. She’s managing around a thousand dungeons, not the day to day operations, but the developments, contracts, bids, insurance and the overall management.
Faith isn’t sure how her father managed to gain ownership of that many dungeons. It started out small, around ten or so in the first six months after the [System] manifested. It slowly increased to a hundred in the next half a year, and then rapidly expanded to almost two thousand dungeons over the next year. They own almost 20% of all dungeons in the Americas, and are the only entity outside of the guilds and the government to own dungeons. She has an inkling and a lot of suspicions, but she has nothing concrete on why their family in particular owns them.
Her thoughts are interrupted by the driver telling Faith that they have arrived. She takes a look at her watch, seeing it’s a quarter to noon. ‘I suppose I should be there a bit early.’ She thinks, as she doesn’t want the client to wait for her, despite it being before the appointed time. A client that her father told her to handle has to be important.
Making her way to conference room four, she greets a few of the workers on her way. While they all know her circumstances regarding the marriage, and while she knows a lot of the men look down on her, she’s still feared, as slighting her means slighting the Rosetti name, something nobody wants to do.
Entering the room, she sees the back of a person as they look out of the window, and she can’t help but notice something peculiar about the person in front of her.
A mane of pure white hair, as white as freshly fallen snow. Cascading down the back of the person in front of her, falling into soft curls at the person’s lower back.
Despite being silent upon entry, the person in front of her turns around, and the beauty of the woman is ethereal.
Snow white hair, icy blue eyes with the depth of an iceberg. A figure of pure femininity, yet hints of muscles. Curves in all the right places, enticing and delicious.
She’s tall for a woman, taller than Faith.
The woman in front of her reminds Faith of an angel, but the demeanour and aura she’s emitting reminds her more of battle hardened veterans.
While all of this runs through Faith’s head, there’s only one sentence that repeats over and over, as if resonating with her mind, body and soul.
She has just met the woman of white.