Mosh wiped the sweat from his head, looking across the field at the rows of freshly turned soil devoid of weeds; a few bits of chopped stems and roots showed his mind wasn’t on his work. He didn’t need to concentrate much; aside from watching out for buried rocks, which would harm his hoe, all he had to do was look and make sure that any offending weeds met their deserved end and were destroyed as needed. The field had been in his family for decades, and after the years of it being worked, the number of stones to be found was negligible. Still, it was a good workout, and it gave him the exercise he needed, exercise he would otherwise have lacked as he loved his books more than hoes and swords. His father did not care much about books or swords; his love lay in the fields and his farm. His descent had granted him the class, domestic nature aspected, but Mosh did not see that as his path.

Mosh sighed, knowing that despite his predilection for books, his father still supported him. The family had prepared a large celebration with an advanced awakening element to try and ensure a higher chance of all family members gaining what they wished for, rather than the weaker awakening element in the publicly conducted Celebrations of Age. Many said the Earth Mileu worked hard to try and find the energy and money to elevate the awakening element for all, dedicated to strengthening all on Earth, but the reality remained that if you had wealth, your awakening and the descent that came with it were more likely to follow your wishes.

His mother was of a similar practical bent to her husband, her class of , domestic nature aspected, a solid accompaniment to his father’s due to the fertilization, irrigation, pest, and weed extraction it provided. Mosh and his siblings often joked and wondered if they found each other because of their class synergy, though expressing that in front of them was a ticket to a scolding! It also helped that Mosh was one of fifteen children, and three of his brothers had followed his father’s example and worked the land, helping to expand the family holdings and soliciting the help of the Adventurers Guild to clear the new land as they expanded their holdings into less protected areas.

Mosh’s eyes went blank when he dreamed of coming into a mage or academician class; any of the mind or mana aspects would be his dream, enabling him to live amongst the spirals with access to all the great libraries and perhaps, in time, even contributing his own works to them to be preserved.

Mosh stretched his back, taking up his hoe, feeling it settle along the calluses in his hand, while he stared out at the distant spires of Kalthek as it floated in the air, the massive city and symbol of the Human Polity. Tomorrow he would be there; he would be one of those who entered adulthood and underwent the Celebration of Age, one of those entering into his eighteenth year. He gripped his hoe and bent back down to work. Tomorrow would come; today he would do his duty to his family, and there was a field to weed.

***

In a room within one of Kalthek's spires, three men sat around a table. The lines of age marred their faces, but none showed any signs of weakness due to age. They paid attention to a pyramidal crystal set into a gilded silver tripod. A holographic image was projected out from the crystal, the image of a silver-scaled head, close to a human but lacking ears and with a much wider mouth and eyes, being projected from it.

“It is confirmed that Earth has been chosen for the lottery this year. Ten to pay homage, randomly chosen from those coming of age.”

One of the men watching sighed. “How much longer must we pay? It has been over three centuries, and still, we are punished. None of us alive now are responsible for the great cull, yet we remain in their Game, performing for their amusement. Did they not say it was not a perpetual punishment but would end?”

“Davos, we all suspect that the honesty of the Mileu Council is a thing of fantasy, as is their honor. We lack strength. There is no rebelling until we can grow our strength and have those strong enough to stand against the Mileu champions who are thousands of years old. We have only had three centuries to grow. We will find a way, but not yet; we lack the strength and knowledge. Patience, silence. We will grow, but we need to bide our time.”

The one addressed as Davos looked at the other. “We send our children off. They come back, twisted, parodies of themselves, allowed only short visits home to parade before us and ensure we notice how they are being mutated and abused. And then when their furlough is over, they have to return to the Game, leaving to be the twisted entertainment for the Mileu!”

On the screen, the snake man frowned. “We have the same anger as you, but as Milev said, it is not yet time. We will seize our freedom, but at the moment we can only obey the wishes of the Mileu.”

The third man spoke up, his voice low and raspy. “Have they said how it is to be distributed? Who will be taking it?”

“I have not seen the full missive yet. It was sent as partnered communication; it can only be viewed when our partnered species is present. To make sure it was shared, it seems to be configured to need a human present, though it was sent to us.” The snake man could be seen fiddling with something behind him. A crystal appeared, which was quickly slotted into a stand taken from a drawer beneath the table. It was locked in place, and a black orb appeared above it; nothing appeared from within, but a voice emanated from it.

“As part of your sentence, the lottery is announced to take place this year. A reminder of the sentence: Due to the action of stopping the mana flow on the planet locally known as Earth, cutting it off from the Greater Mileu, thirty-seven sentient species dependent on mana were killed. This genocide is deserving of the death penalty for all on the planet, as all those living there, devolved species and others alike, took part in the decision to secede from the Greater Mileu and to partake in the genocide. In its mercy, the Mileu council decided against the indicated punishment of death, as all those directly involved had long since died, and those alive a thousand years later had no knowledge of it. In return for this mercy, the Mileu Council has instated the lottery, a random selection of individuals from those native to Earth to fight through the Game, said lottery to be held at random intervals.

This lottery is to be held across the planet known as Earth at the Celebration of Age ceremonies. It has been determined that seventeen million individuals are coming of age in this cycle. Of those, ten shall be chosen from the seven sapient races on Earth. They will remain within the Game and are only allowed to visit outside at set points as they play, determined by each one’s path within the game. Each player has their path and their means to grow in the game. Once the minimal success level of their path is reached, they may choose to leave or to remain in as a volunteer and grow further.”

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The black sphere turned white and disappeared. Those watching were silent for a moment before the snake man spoke. “Why the change?”

The others looked at his image, all with quizzical expressions.

“Did you not notice that it stated they would be freed when their path reached minimal success? It has not stated that previously.”

Davos frowned, then looked at each in turn, including the snake man. “Did they listen in to our previous conversation and seek to placate us? Could they have changed a sealed communication with such ease?”

Milev looked up, his expression neutral. “Is that also an answer to how long until the punishment is completed? Someone has to play their path to a certain level?”

The third man spoke, his face expressing his anger. “I can only agree with Davos. They spy on us. And as soon as we express our discontent, they seek to dangle the prospect of freedom. Nothing concrete, no real information, just a hint as if that is meant to placate us. I can see why our ancestors chose to forsake this so-called ‘Great Mileu. It is nothing more than petty tyrants abusing those below them.”

The snake man spoke, “Best not to express such sentiments; if they do spy on us, it could be used against us in the future.”

Silence fell over the room, and after more mundane matters were discussed and dealt with, the meeting was called to an end.

***

Arbiter Zak sat before his deck, holographic screens cycling before him. He kept an opaque screen behind them, stopping the distracting view of the diving dragons playing in the sky beyond. He sighed, thinking of his mate, the mighty red, Rophel. She sat upon her clutch in her natural form, a form she would maintain until he entered their home, and she took on a degraded form that mirrored his own until it was time to return to her eggs.

He bent to his tasks, frowning as he felt the door behind him opening.

“Why do you disturb me, Kai’Rop? Did I not leave word to not disturb me?”

“My apologies, Arbiter Zak’Kinli’Liker’Morten. We have a growing problem with those beholden to the lottery. They discuss rebellion.”

Zak turned in his chair. “Rebellion? Do they not know the Lottery and Game are a mercy? A finite sentence rather than a permanent eradication? Oh, and call me by my full name outside of a formal occasion again, and I shall be most upset! A single syllable or just my title, the rest is just vanity.” He watched amused as his assistant squirmed uncomfortably, like all dragons overly enamored with pomp and ceremony.

“That is the problem, Arbiter. They question what we say. They see no end; they question our honor and honesty. They just see us as stealing their young and warping them for our pleasure. They do not believe it will ever end, and they see the only way to save their future generations is by rebelling. They see us as nothing more than enslavers, abusing and torturing their young for pleasure. With no reason to believe what we say, as we have given no targets, no goals, and have never stated when it will end.”

Zak frowned, his scaled brows coming down over his slitted brows. “They question our honor? They see us as liars! As nothing more than abusers kidnapping, torturing, and killing their young?” He breathed in, trying to enforce calm and control his temper. Unsuccessfully. His temper flared as he thought of the hidden war, of how many lived and fought. That these puny creatures living in a world guilty of genocide would question their honesty and honor was unbearable. He didn’t need to know the specifics of what the world had done; the fact it was a lottery world meant it had committed atrocities and been granted the leniency of the lottery instead of eradication. “Kill their leaders; show what questioning us leads to!”

Zak watched as his assistant bowed his head, clearly holding something back. “Speak! You have something to say?!”

“Arbiter, please, do not turn your anger towards me, but such an action would not achieve your aim. On the contrary, it would be interpreted as us killing those who could grow to challenge us so we can keep them enslaved and as toys for our pleasure. The rebellion would not go away, just become more concealed.” He paused, clearly thinking about how to phrase his next words. “The truth, my lord Arbiter, is that I can understand their complaint, their point of view. We are talking of judgment GH90876907-FDE8978. They were not part of the Mileu, did not know of it, and did not know about mana. We arrived, accusing them of a genocide that they did not know of. A genocide committed by those they were ignorant about and had died a millennia ago, in a species where reaching a century in age was a rare and noteworthy milestone before the reintroduction of mana. Our arrival was not benign; the reinfusion of mana to their world resulted in the death of five billion sapient beings from mana oversaturation and an eradication of their way of life. All they see is a tyrannical power responsible for what they can only view as atrocities. More tyranny will cement what they think, not cause the problem to go away.”

“Perhaps, but they can see that others have gone through the lottery and Game, and, after time, been freed as full citizens,” the Arbiter remarked as he listened to the very valid points of his assistant, making him tone down his condemnation and redirecting his impatient and misdirected judgment.

“And where do they see that, Lord Arbiter? In what we tell them. They see nothing for themselves. As yet, they have not been allowed a teleportation platform. They have no interaction with the Greater Milieu aside from our contingents on the planet, and those are seen as us, not as independents. They are not told what the goal is or what the target is. They see such claims as an attempt by us to create hope of freedom while we abuse them and try to placate them into silence and inaction. The rebellion will grow, and killing their leaders will not help. Instead, it will cement their opposition. It will show them that, like the tyrants and slavers they accuse us of being, we spy on them and kill any who dissent.”

The Arbiter leaned back, an ache forming in his rear brain, sending spikes of pain throughout his back. “Leave me, I will think on this.” In his mind, he could not help but think, Mammals! So attached to their young. We take so few; we put only those with the possibility of passing through the Crucible within to fight and grow within the Game to find one to be set as a Magister over the planet so they will be citizens within the Mileu. Yet they risk it all to save a handful. Not really their fault; they do not understand the Crucible and see only the by-product. How much would change if we could tell them? Could all rebellion be averted if we reveal the purpose of the game? That it is a crucible, an enforced understanding, an evolution to a higher plane? That the torture and changing of form for understanding and power, not just to entertain? But that is forbidden; the Upper Mileu council has been asked in previous instances and answered in their usual terse answer, ‘FORBIDDEN’! Where do we go from here if taking harsh action will just lead to a greater spiral of violence and rebellion?

Zak flared his nostrils, a brief whiff of the outside coming in, the perfume of dragons brought in on the wind. The perfume that used to be his, the form that used to be his. Did he regret his evolution, his passage through the Crucible? Never, but he had chosen it; perhaps that was the problem. With the lottery races, they had no choice, no understanding. In his thoughts, they should just let them know. Let them understand, but ‘FORBIDDEN,’ a word that tolled in his mind when such thoughts arose, was part of the conditioning embedded when he became Arbiter. The Upper Council claimed that the ignorance of such races was essential, though they would not say why. It was his responsibility to oversee this planet, this lottery, so he would send his report up. A report he was sure would be read and then discarded. With another flare of pain from his second brain, he went back to his screens, briefly bringing one up to send the report on the planet known to the locals as Earth, the subject of judgment GH90876907-FDE8978.